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k-dokja · 2 years

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Now I want to see the Adeuce duo's reaction when they first saw Riddle's gf😞

this got weirdly long because i was expanding upon another idea 💦 anyway, enjoy!

riddle is apprehensive.

he has no reason to be, but the anxiety underneath his concern for the festival preparation latches on him anyway. yes, the other members of his dorm have seen you before, this should be no different. in fact, he has detailed what he could about the day of his overblot to you. not only that, the organization of the upcoming cultural festival is going smoothly.

there should be no element of surprise to worry him about introducing you to his juniors.

but he’s apprehensive, anyway. he does not like being on edge, it makes him irritable. more than normal, based on what trey said.

“that’s the third freshman you snapped at in the past thirty minutes,” trey points out as the two of them are left alone in the room, “mind enlightening me on what is troubling you?”

“i don’t know,” his admission of ignorance also points out that riddle acknowledges he is being irrational, but he has no control over it, “maybe the energy of the day is getting to me.”

“the energy of the day?” trey echoes with apparent incredulity. “i don’t take you for someone easily swayed by the masses.”

riddle huffs, “it’s not that,” then, sourly, he adds, “it’s the first time she’ll be with me since what happened.”

“since what happened…?” although surprised, trey regains some gravity over the situation. “haven’t the two of you seen each other over the break?”

“we did,” riddle says, “but the circumstance was… cumbersome, i had a lot to discuss with my mother. we didn’t get to meet much because of that, i did not want her to be troubled with my problems until they’re resolved.”

“riddle,” trey fights to put down a smile, “you’ve always shared everything with each other, do you remember how well your plan to keep your overblot a secret from her went?”

“i only intended to keep it a secret until the break so i can tell her face-to-face,” riddle retorts, “besides, if it was anything else, i would have had no opposition, but this is something i have to fight on my own.”

whether trey understands why riddle has to take this stance or not, he reins back from further comment on the matter. “what’s bothering you then? do you think she’ll be unhappy with the distance?”

“of course not, she’s always understanding,” riddle holds back from adding ‘too understanding’ with a frown. “but she worries, she worries even more after my overblot. you can’t imagine the amount of fretting she made after i told her about it.”

trey looks like he wants to argue that he does know but decides to hold back with a smile, “so you want to show that she has no reason to worry then?”

“yes,” riddle admits with relief when his pinprick at his side is put into words, “that and… i expect ace and deuce to not make a bad impression of themselves, i had promised both sides to arrange a meeting.”

“oh?”

riddles nods, arms crossed, “she wants to express her gratitude for what they've done, and you were there when they overheard me talking about her.”

this time around, trey no longer bothers to suppress his own smile, “that should be interesting, i hope they get along.”

“i see no reason as to why they wouldn’t,” riddle smiles for another reason entirely, “now, we ought to double-check with the attractions one more time before the festival begins.”

“yea,” trey nods, “let’s head out.”

time always flies when he has a lot on his hands. by the time riddle gets the chance to sit down and catch his breath, you’ve already arrived at the festival ground with the remaining masses. riddle smiles at the phone when he sees the positive message he received from you. he wouldn’t have a chance to walk with you until he checked a couple more places, but the news of you warms his heart.

[ i still need to finish work, but i will catch up with you later? ]

immediately, a reply comes, [ take your time! i arrived with a few friends so i will stick with them until then 😊 ]

[ all right, i will see you then. ] if it was anyone else, they might have seen his message for indifference. but you know him, you’d know that even if he hasn’t said much, riddle presses his phone to his heart afterwards. only for a second to recharge before he returns to the fray. there’d be work to do until he sees you again.

true to his words, soon as riddle checks out of his shift for the morning, he sends you a message to notify you of his freedom. your reply arrives after he finished delegating his duty to another committee member. the warmth he feels is pleasant in comparison to the heat of the day.

[ we can grab lunch if you are hungry 🥰 ]

[ with your friends? ] he asks, not hesitant, just curious.

the bubble informing him of your incoming text pops up and then sizzles with another reply. [ i already told them about my plan with you, they won’t mind 💖 ]

[ then i want to spend time together. ]

his reply is straightforward and succinct. he has no reservations about seeing your friend, but as he told trey before, the two of you haven’t gotten much chance to be with each other. there’d be other chances for him to meet them, not now, however.

now, he only wants to be with you.

[ let me say my goodbye then, text me your location too 😊👍 ]

he smiles unconsciously. [ no need, i’ll head over. stay where you are. ]

your next message comes with your current location, the auditorium where idia shroud of ignihyde would be holding his conference. riddle briefly wonders if it’s something which interests you or if you went along to support your friends. however, he refrains from asking about the immediate moment and saves it for when he can see you again.

on his way there, riddle contemplates whether he should’ve asked you to send a picture of your outfit so he can spot you easier. but that turns out to be necessary because he recognizes you the moment he sees you.

adorned in a white chiffon dress with pretty ribbons and delicate ruffles, your beauty rivals even the daintiest of roses in his dorm’s garden. the accent of red runs into your accessories, from the thin necklace you wear to the ring with a single ruby perching on a silver band. all of it is complemented by the bag hanging on your shoulder, a gift he purchased for your last birthday.

every time he sets his eyes on you after a prolonged period of absence, riddle feels the air getting knocked out of his lungs. it is juvenile how he continues to be affected by the sight of you even after years together, yet riddle finds that he doesn’t mind this slight weakness when it comes to you. he’d stay to admire you forever if time allows, but that also means he will be deprived of your company. it wouldn’t do. squaring his shoulders, riddle walks up to you with determined steps, eager to be in your presence again.

you perk up at his call for your name, and a smile readily blooms on your lips. “riddle!”

he closes the distance in two strides, and when you greet him with a hug, he doesn’t stiffen in awkwardness. the embrace feels like home with your arms around him, but he does not dare on dragging it on even if he wants otherwise. there are too many prying eyes around, eyes which have no business caring about his love life.

“shall we go then?” he detaches from you with reluctance before offering you his arm to hold on to.

you nod eagerly and accept his extended arm. “do you have any recommendations?”

riddle hums in affirmation and the skip in your step lighten his entire day.

after the two of you ordered from one of the booths with a more substantial offering, riddle sits down next to you at one of the outdoor tables. your hand has moved from holding onto his arm to intertwining with his hand in the process.

it’s strange. he always tells you about his every day while the two of you aren’t together, yet when you are this close, his mind cancels out. he feels foolish and in love, it is inconvenient how the two can coexist and trouble him.

‘i—‘

‘woah, isn’t that housewarden riddle?’

riddle bristles. the mention of his title has him tense all over. he blames it on his deprivation of your presence. the prolonged absence has made him irritable, even when it is no one’s fault but his own. yet, despite all senses and reasonings, he relaxes when he sees who it was that spotted him among the crowd.

‘ace. deuce. i thought the two of you would be in rehearsal for the upcoming competition.’

‘we were just allowed a break,’ ace answered breezily, ‘man, you and vil are like two peas in a pod, it’s like i never left our dorm.’

‘oh? is that a complaint about my methods i’m hearing?’

ace pales immediately, ‘ugh, absolutely not, i can only deal with one of you today.’

‘uhm, excuse me,’ it is deuce who interferes, on no one’s behalf but his own, ‘but… can i ask who is accompanying you?’

riddle blinks. ace has provided a momentary distraction from you that riddle doesn’t anticipate. he glances back at you for confirmation and then returns to his underclassman once he received it. ‘i remember the two saying that you wanted to meet her earlier, and here she is. ace, deuce, this is my girlfriend.’ he says your name with a hint of pride, before meeting your gaze once more. ‘and this is the underclassman we talked about, i wouldn’t have been able to recover from my overblot safely without them.’

your eyes widen in surprise, ‘oh…!’

riddle mourns the loss of your warmth when you untangle your hand from his. but he does not stop you when you get up to approach the duo, your arms opening, ‘thank you both so much for what you’ve done for riddle,’ you hug deuce first, closest to you.

the boy stiffens in surprise, but makes no move to push you away, ‘oh! uh, it’s nothing, really, i was just doing what’s right…’ his cheeks turn a crimson red and increase in intensity even after you’ve turned to ace.

despite knowing what would be coming, ace does nothing to avoid you. in fact, there’s even a cheeky grin on his face when he accepts your hug, ‘yeah, you can count on us for anything at all,’ but the grin does not stay on his face for long, not when riddle narrows his eyes at ace.

he means not to reprimand ace, only to draw the line of his territory. the younger boy is smart enough to not tread with dangerous water, indulging no more than he should in your hug.

it amuses riddle to see the troublemaker duo interacting with you. even if they’re not saying anything, the clear contrast between you and riddle has befuddled them.

‘i should be the one saying that,’ you say, ‘let me know if there’s anything i can help you with, i’ll do my best to assist.’

soon as you have expressed your gratitude, riddle decides it’s nigh that he joins the three of you. his approach captures your notice, just long enough for ace to lean over to deuce.

‘damn, dude,’ ace whispers, ‘i can’t believe she’s real.’

‘you thought she wasn’t?’

‘have you seen the housewarden? i didn’t even know he can talk to girls.’

‘i can talk to girls perfectly fine, thank you for your concern,’ riddle demonstrates that by wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him. ‘i do not know what impression you have of me, but being able to communicate with the ladies is mandatory in etiquette lessons. which i’m sure you would’ve known if you had learned it.’

‘ugh,’ ace groans, ‘seems like having her around makes you even more hostile to others than normal.’

‘nonsense,’ riddle retorts, ‘i’m always like this with you.’

a tug on his lapel, it’s from you, ‘riddle,’ you smile, ‘let’s be nice to your underclassmen.’

‘i’d say i’m being perfectly nice to them,’ he mirrors your smile, ‘but i suppose my hunger is making me feel a bit grumpy, shall we return to our lunch?’

‘oh, of course, i’m so sorry for getting carried away,’ then, you turn to the other two to ask, ‘would the two of you like to join us? seeing as you’re taking a break as well?’

immediately, riddle makes a smile with pressed lips at ace and deuce. it would’ve been innocuous from a far distance, but this close, it’s filled with nothing but murderous intention. one smile alone speaks volumes: ‘don’t even think about it’, ‘accept and it’s off with your head’, ‘i’m going to double your gardening duty if you ruin this for me’.

in the end, it’s deuce who caves first. ‘uh, we’ll have to pass, but thank you,’ he says.

‘yeah, thanks for the offer, but we wouldn’t want to intrude on you lovebirds,’ ace is a bit more audacious in his refusal, but at least, he refuses.

‘oh, that’s a pity,’ you sigh, ‘we’ll see you both around then?’

‘yup, we’ll perform for sdc later, you should come to support us!’ ace replies readily. it almost makes riddle wonder if he has been holding that back the whole time.

‘it would be great to have another rooting for our team,’ deuce adds, ‘hope we’ll see the both of you there.’

‘of course,’ riddle answers, ‘i’m your housewarden and a student of night raven college, it’s only prudent that i come to support your performance.’

‘we’ll both be rooting for you!’ you chirp happily.

even after the boys left, the cheer continues to remain on your face. ‘you seem happy,’ riddle points out as he heads back to the table with you.

‘of course, i get to be here with you and…’ you tap the side of your chin, musing, ‘it’s nice to see you making friends, even if they seem peculiar.’

‘well, they do keep our dorm lively,’ riddle says diplomatically, ‘i still struggle with reminding them of the queen’s rules. for example, the other day when i was—‘

‘here’s your order.’

a student interrupts him by placing down the previous food the two of you have bought. you answer the boy with an amicable thank you before he left. when you look back at riddle with an anticipating gaze, riddle suddenly finds that he no longer has any desire to rant about the misbehaviours of his underclassman.

he reaches for your hand and presses gentle kisses on your knuckles, ‘i’m glad you’re here,’ he says, ‘i know there’s still a lot we need to talk about but…’

you lean forward to kiss his nose, and the hand he holds reaches up to cup his face, ‘we don’t have to do that now. let’s just be with each other, you can tell me when you’re ready.’

‘thank you,’ he kisses your palm, filled with unspoken affection. you share the same sentiment, he can see it in the warmth of your eyes.

everything hasn’t been easy, and maybe it never will be. but at least, riddle knows he has you. and you have him, always.

#riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #fics

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progressivemillennial · 11 months

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The Crisis in Gaza: What Can We Do?

When I was a child, I would become incredibly sad and would sometimes cry when I saw those commercials about starving children in the Global South. For 30 cents a day, you could feed a starving child? Why didn’t everyone give 30 cents a day? Why would we allow for so much suffering when we had so much as a people? I have always felt solidarity with people around the world, regardless of where they lived or what religion they followed.

As you might imagine, I’ve cried a few times in the last month because of the awfulness happening in Israel and Palestine. Israelis should not have to live in perpetual existential crisis. The Holocaust must not happen again. Antisemitism is not acceptable. Likewise, Palestinians–and particularly at this moment Gazans–should be able to live in safety and comfort, as well. The Nakba cannot happen again. Islamophobia is not acceptable. And more broadly, killing civilians should not be tolerated anywhere, nor should ethnic cleansing or forced migration. Or genocide, for that matter, no matter whether it’s happening to Jews or Bosniaks or Congolese or Armenians or Cambodians or Cherokee. It’s all awful and terrible and intolerable.

We are now looking at the prospects of a “long war” in Gaza that has come on the heels of what has been referred to as Israel’s 9/11. Knowing that the War on Terror–stemming from America’s 9/11–led to millions and millions of people worldwide being displaced and killed, the implementation of a torture regime, and the loss of civil liberties at home, I feel deeply worried about what could happen should the nation of Israel follow the same path that the United States did 20 years ago.

In less than a month, the situation in Gaza has deteriorated into a grave humanitarian crisis with thousands of civilians killed. Shortages of fuel, food, clean water, electricity, and medicine have all been widely reported. More than one million Gazans have been told to move South, but there is no guarantee they’ll be able to return home after the war, and there is no guarantee that they will be safe whether they move anyway. Gazans are being called “subhuman” and “animals” and “savages.” The groundwork is being laid to justify a situation that we might look back on and ask, “how could something so terrible happen?” And all well-meaning people will say that we can’t let that happen again. It is incumbent upon us now to make sure that doesn't happen at all.

We must act now to stop the crisis in Gaza from spiraling out of control and to prevent the war from escalating into a regional or global conflict. As Americans, we can contact Congress and the White House, protest, sign petitions, talk to our friends and family, give money to those in need, learn about the history, and tell our leaders to start pursuing peace again. We have options, and our government holds great sway in foreign affairs.

Thankfully, the Ceasefire Today website, https://ceasefiretoday.com/, is a great place to get started. I encourage everyone to go there and use the resources available, whether it be the protest search or donation links or information on phone banking or form letters to send to Congress.

Circling back to 9/11, critics of the Iraq War in the early 2000’s were marginalized as un-American enemies, the “blame America first crowd.” As George W. Bush put it, “Either you are with us, or you are with the terrorists.” Today, in the wake of Israel’s 9/11, if you support a ceasefire, you run the risk of being marginalized as an antisemite or a radical or a terrorist supporter. It is understandable and relatable to not speak up or do anything. I, for one, am preemptively terrified of the comments section for this post. I get it.

And yet, we must act. If you are feeling hesitant, let me provide some encouragement. When I think back to the child version of me fretting over starving children halfway across the globe, I recognize now that being empathetic and egalitarian, two of my most cherished values as an adult, have always been part of me. To want peace, to want to prevent genocide, to want the people living in Israel and Palestine to have security and safety and sustenance is not a radical impulse: these are requisite parts of being a compassionate, thinking and feeling human being.

We must not allow our values and good nature to be turned into weaknesses. Instead, we must lead with kindness, understanding, and knowledge as vehemently as the war hawks who seek to undermine peace and the Islamophobes and antisemites who pursue violence against the people they hate. Now is not the time for meekness.

Again, please visit https://ceasefiretoday.com/ and get started on agitating for a better, safer world. There are Israelis, Palestinians, hostages, foreign nationals, journalists, doctors, aid workers, and so many others who need our support and for the war to end.

Peace, love, and solidarity,

Tom 🌹🌈

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xelasrecords · 9 months

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@brighteststar707 I've started drafting the response and saved it but when I came back the edit button was GONE???

Tumblr is a mystical place. Rewriting them now.

3. Do you like the person you feel like you’re becoming?

It took me a long time to reach this level of self-acceptance, but yes! I make decisions for my own good even though they may not always feel good, I no longer let people cross my boundaries, and I do things that make me happy without feeling guilty that I'm wasting time. Never again do I want to feel so innately worthless. It was such a torturous headspace to be in.

11. Do you like who you are around people?

Also yes. It wasn't always like this—I didn't know how to socialise at work so I'd eat alone more often than not, and I was quiet and zoned off a lot when I was with my friends. They have a joke that I was like a ghost they couldn't catch because I'd always disappear whenever I felt like it.

But I'm way better now! I can't pinpoint when it happened, but over time I found myself not having to fret about what to say and always having things to ask, things to talk about. I can laugh and make jokes naturally, and I've become closer with my friends. I didn't expect this kind of change as I grew more comfortable with myself. There were a lot of joys I robbed myself from by stewing in my insecurities and not being brave enough to care about me.

30. Who have you never forgiven? Why?

Someone I dated who did some Horrible Things. I don't actively hate him but I'm not bothered about whether I should forgive him. It's tiring to nurse a grudge and I just want to live a peaceful life.

31. What are you looking forward to right now?

The annual Christmas dinner with my friends! Hoping most of these people will be available. No one told me it'd be this hard to meet up with friends as you get older. The amount of planning it takes to line up our schedules.....

61. What quirks do you have?

I like to fiddle with my ring and I've been told I throw my head back when I laugh.

#ask game #xela answers

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wardenred · 1 year

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Whumptember 2: "Let me do this for you"

These characters have been hanging out on the fringes of my mind for a while now, why not take them out for a walk.

Tonight, the tavern was warm and jovial. Flames crackled in the fireplace that took up most of the wall across from the doorway. A minstrel sat perched on a high stool next to it, their deft fingers teasing a soft, soothing melody out of a lute. Glass clinked against metal as a group of merchants laughed together, celebrating a deal well sealed and toasting future opportunities; some of them had discarded tankards in favor of going straight for the bottles. Two tables away, three people in noble clothes hidden under commoners' cloaks looked to be enjoying a romantic evening. At the bar, a city guard flirted relentlessly with the maid. A slightly exasperated patron clearly couldn't decide whether he wished to interfere for the sake of finally getting a drink or would rather not spoil somebody's fun. The air smelled of fresh stew and mulled wine.

Amidst all of this, even tucked away in the farthest corner, Raj found it easy to pretend like he could have some of this, too, one day. The simple joys, the simple comforts. Life.

Just as long as he paid all his debts first and didn't die trying.

He smoothed out the map in front of him and traced the tip of his nail over the shoreline, the faded blue expanse of the Whirlpool Gulf, the smattering of small islands to the west.

"Fortune guiding me, I shouldn't be gone for longer than a month," he told Ash. "My sisters should have enough coin or that long, but if I stall, I can count on you to check up on them and see to their needs, right? I’ll pay you back, obviously."

His friend drummed their fingers over the chipped edge of the table. A deep crease settled between their pale eyebrows; a deeper one at the corner of their mouth.

"You shouldn't be doing this."

Raj swallowed a sigh. "On the contrary. It's a fantastic opportunity—"

"To get yourself killed for real this time?"

This was... needlessly dramatic. "Excuse me, are you doubting my skills?"

"No, only your sanity. Raj, you've done two jobs with the Western pirates, and frankly, it makes for two more than reasonable. And aren't you now expected to work under the same captain as the last time?"

Raj grimaced. "Unfortunately, yes. I suppose he'll be happier to see me than I him. Still, that's a good chance to turn the tables a little bit, after all the grief the guy gave me."

"Grief." Ash's expression was unreadable.

"Well, what else would you call it?" Raj asked with a fatalistic shrug. "No, don't answer. You'll come up with all sorts of drastically tragic epithets, whereas the truth is, it was—"

Ash leaned forward so sharply Raj kind of wanted to flinch back. Of course, what he did instead was freeze and stop talking.

"If you're going to tell me it was nothing, I swear to the gods..." Ash drew a steadying breath. "I was the one who patched you up after that stint, Raj. Don't you dare tell me you were fine."

"I was, though," Raj insisted, not so much ignoring the way Ash's dark eyes narrowed as acknowledging it and saying his part anyway. "I can handle a few beatings, as long as it gets the work done and paid for. So how about you stop fretting and we keep drinking?" He reached for the jug at the center of the table and topped their glasses with gusto. "Ths is meant to be a celebration! I fought for this contract!"

"Yes, because you're a blighted fool," Ash said stiffly. Still, when Raj brought up a glass in a toast, they clinked theirs against his. Hard. So hard, in fact, that the blood-like red liquid splashed over the rims, drinks mixing together.

Raj offered an easy smile. "That's all right by me. If memory serves me right, before ascending the throne the first Astragi king, bless his spirit and all that, served as the Last Emperor's fool. Therefore, being a fool is quite the noble calling with awesome career prospects. Cheers."

Ash snatched his wrist before he could bring the glass to this lips.

"Let me do this for you. No, listen! You'll still get the money. Even the credit, should that be what you're after. Lie low here in the city, or travel to the country for a while. I've got a cover-up in the works already. Once I'm back, we'll convince the bosses you were the one who did the job."

All Raj could do was stare. There was a feverish glint in Ash's eyes, a flush to their skin that could probably be explained by all the ale they'd consumed already. This crazy idea probably boasted the same origin.

He laughed. "Now which one of us is the fool?"

Ash tightened their grip on his hand. "Please, Raj. Let me do this. The risks for me are lower, anyway. I'm not the kind of person Captain Turncoat would harbor a grudge for. I can keep my head down, lay low, pretend to be boring and unobtrusive. You know I can."

"The captain isn't the only monster aboard that ship." Raj's throat tightened when he thought about this. Ash, spending weeks in the open sea with Turncoat's crew, treated with disdain at best, because pirates hated their organization even—especially—when they agreed to work together for mutual gain? Having all possible offenses pinned on them, all possible punishments dispensed their way? No. No, and nope, and fuck this shit.

"Please, Raj."

He shook his head, wrenched his hand away, and downed half a glass in one go.

Immediately, his mind felt fuzzy. The glass cluttered out of his weakened grasp and rolled over the table surface, spilling ale everywhere. The map would be ruined if it wasn't for Ash's quick fingers, already folding it away.

Numb and with no control of his body or tongue, Raj could only slump in his chair while Ash stood, walked over, and methodically searched his pockets for the job token.

No. No, please, anything but this.

Ash bent down to plant a small kiss against his temple.

"You'll feel better in an hour, tops," they whispered. "Stay safe. See you in a month, give or take."

Their footsteps echoed away, and Raj couldn't even turn his head to watch them go. By the fireplace, the minstrel was still playing, the melody rising and falling like the tides.

You fucking idiot.

Raj didn't know if he was aiming the thought at Ash or himself.

#warden's random scribbles #whumptember2023 #my writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #original fiction #snippet #flash fiction #fantasy #whump writing #probably barely whump to be honest?#this was supposed to take a different turn #but i think i started too soon and gave the caretaker type too much free reign #sacrifice

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skippyv20 · 2 years

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https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/poor-old-archbish-welby-he-s-got-to-deal-with-the-montecito-moaners-again-92fjrgmts no other snapshots from this url 31 Jan 2023 00:08:22 ROBERT CRAMPTON Poor old Archbish Welby! He’s got to deal with the Montecito moaners again Robert Crampton Tuesday January 31 2023, 12.01am GMT, The Times King Charles has asked Justin Welby, the Archbishop of Canterbury, to mediate in the brewing row over Prince Harry’s attendance at his dad’s coronation in May. Rather you than me, mate! Welby’s already admitted he’s having nightmares about the event — leaving the crown at Lambeth Palace, like a dopey best man losing the ring, that sort of thing — and now he’s got to keep Harry and Meghan happy, and as we know, they are not a couple slow to take offence. Just when he should be fussing about his coronation oil and special frock, Welby will instead be scurrying around Westminster Abbey checking no one’s been swapping the name cards in the pews. Poor old Archbish! From Protestantism to placement in five centuries: how are the mighty fallen. Thomas Cranmer had to worry about getting burnt at the stake. Five hundred years later, his successor is fretting over whether Meghan is behind a pillar. Even Welby’s far more recent predecessor Robert Runcie got involved in weighty matters like sending Terry Waite to broker hostage releases in Beirut. The current AoC will hope his negotiations go better than Terry’s did. How will Welby handle it? Well, when my wife periodically toys with the idea of redesigning our kitchen or bathroom, or helps out a friend with advice on the same, she first makes a scale drawing of the room, marking in the windows, doors and plumbing. Then, also to scale, she cuts out paper shapes to represent the bath, shower, fridge, sink, whatever, and moves them around experimentally to find the optimal arrangement. I suggest the senior primate of the Church of England and ceremonial head of the worldwide Anglican communion of 85 million souls does the same. Except, obviously, his scheme would represent the Abbey and a shedload of posh overstuffed gilt chairs rather than household appliances. Welby reportedly had a dry run at corralling Harry and Meghan back on to the reservation at the Queen’s funeral last September. We all know how that turned out: major moaning about second-row status plus a bafflingly arcane strop over the precise insignia on a uniform sleeve. Undeterred, Charles has asked his top vicar to have another go. The peacemaker’s work is all the more difficult this time around because William, after the massive kicking he got in Spare, understandably despairs of his baby brother ever growing up and doesn’t want him there at all. Charles, bless him, despite Harry telling the world his wife is a dangerous villain, is still doing that classic hand-wringing parent thing of hoping warring siblings will agree to disagree and kiss and make up. Enter Welby, canon of compromise, father of fudge, bishop of bodging it and now putative party planner, tasked with sorting out the rider from hell. One suspects a diva’s aversion to blue M&Ms will be as nothing compared with Harry and Meghan’s demands. Trying to reconcile openly gay bishops with their fellow Anglicans who think homosexuality is evil per se will surely prove child’s play in comparison to divvying up the most flattering camera angles at the high altar. Welby has some previous with the Montecito moaners. Remember when Meghan told Oprah that Welby had married them in secret three days before their public do in Windsor? And the archbishop had to let it be known that, er, that wasn’t true? Still, at least he knows what he’s dealing with. The word is that Harry will accept nothing less than full front-row parity with his brother. How will that play out? I can’t see it going well. Should young George really be expected, aged nine, to break up a fight between his dad and his uncle on grandpa’s big day? Will the microphones pick up the second-in-line piping, “Leave it, Pa, he ain’t worth it!” while various duchesses (and one Queen Consort) urge, “Yeah, that’s right, stick the boot in” and, “My turn!” Tricky one for Welby. If he downgrades Harry, there’ll be a Californian-sized huff. If he doesn’t, he may have to keep the brothers apart with his crosier. He’s in the same position as those diplomats who have to find a way of distancing the Israeli and Iranian ambassadors at big state funerals. ● Archbishop Justin Welby plays mediator for the royals ● Hilary Rose: Harry and Meghan’s coronation preparations Harry is reportedly in no hurry to enter into negotiations, with the archbishop or anyone else. Appropriately enough, today being transfer deadline day in the Premier League, with all the posturing and brinkmanship that entails, Big Aitch is ready to take matters right to the wire to get the sweetest deal: titles; apologies; probably more cash. But mostly, he’s after the best seat in the house on May 6. The problem for Welby is, even if he somehow magics up a scheme that avoids a no-show and a punch-up, it doesn’t mean both parties will abide by the deal on the day. We’ve all been there. A big wedding. An industry bash. A charity do. Had a look at the diagram by the door and groaned, “Oh no! I’ve got that boring/handsy/drunk/racist/shouty/mumbly bloke!” Or indeed, “Oh no, I’ve got that paranoid fantasist American actress!” And then some of us — well me, anyway — have indulged in a little surreptitious name-card redistribution before our potential neighbour staggers braying into view, bumping into furniture and groping waitresses as he approaches. But enough of the Duke of York. Incidentally, will Prince Andrew want to bring his bath as a plus-one? “Room for a little one?” asks Andy, jostling along his row, pitifully inadequate bath tucked under one arm, anxious to secure valuable screen time for his prize exhibit.

Thank you❤️

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pocket-luv101 · 3 years

Text

Spoilers with Xingqiu's voiceline about Shenhe.

Shenhe is said to have a "sharpness in her personality" and Xingqiu finds her cold towards him. He predicts that it could be because he upset "someone close to her". Chongyun? There's a possibility that Shenhe and Chongyun are from the same exorcist family. We know that Chongyun is Xingqiu's favourite victim when it comes to prank. Also, Xingqiu's character story states that he often has a facade due to his family name. The one he shows his more mischievous side to is Chongyun.

I can write so many XingYun fanfics around this :3

Chongyun plans to visit Shenhe in the mountains. It has been a while since he saw his sister and he wanted advice on how to control his constitution like she does. He invites Xingqiu to join them because he's oblivious to how she would glare at Xingqiu behind his back. At first, Xingqiu is hesitant to agree when it's clear she dislikes him. He decides to go in the end because it's physically impossible to say no to those blue eyes of him. Xingqiu also thinks the visit will be a good opportunity to try to change her opinion on him. He loves Chongyun and he wants his family to support their relationship before he asks him out.

He does his best to be polite but her icy expression doesn't change. She only softens if Chongyun is there and she's doting on her little brother. While they're making dinner, Chongyun is outside gathering ingredients and leaves them alone in the kitchen. Shenhe tells Xingqiu not to add chili into Chongyun's bowl. Xingqiu directly asks her why she doesn't like him when he tried to be the perfect guest. She looks him in the eyes and says, "You know Chongyun has a huge crush on you but you do nothing but tease him and mock his feelings. He has since you two were six years old. He told me about the night he thought you were going to kiss him but then you played a prank on him. He cried for hours that night."

Xingqiu is shocked silent until he just blurts out: "Chongyun likes me?!" At the same time, Chongyun enters the kitchen and he yells: "Shenhe, why did you tell Xingqiu about my crush?!"

Chongyun is understandably upset with his sister and scared that Xingqiu would reject his feelings (assuming he would only see him as a friend). He runs out of the house and into the snowy mountain to be alone. Shenhe and Xingqiu runs after him but they lose track of him because of how dark it is. They decide to split up to find him quicker.

Shenhe is the one to find Chongyun first, sitting next to the lake. She sits next to him and apologized that she overstepped in his personal life. Chongyun has calmed down at this point and he says he says it's okay. He knows she was just trying to protect him. They talk more and Chongyun asks her to give Xingqiu a chance. "Xingqiu is a good person. I'm not only saying that because I love him but also because he's my best friend. He had helped me so much and supported my dream to be an exorcist. When Mom and Dad said I could never be a traditional exorcist, you and Xingqiu were the only two who believed in me. Let him show you the chivalrous person I know."

Then, a hilichurl attacks them. Shenhe goes to protect Chongyun but there's no need because Xingqiu takes down the hilichurl before it could reach them. Qiu rushes to Chongyun and worries over whether he's hurt. It quickly becomes apparent how much he cares for Chongyun. His fretting is interrupted when Xingqiu sneezes because his clothes are soaked after he uses his vision. Chongyun gives him his jacket and says they should go back to Shenhe's house where it's warm.

Back in the cottage, Chongyun and Xingqiu huddle beside the fireplace for warmth. Shenhe brings them two tea and Xingqiu notes that she isn't as cold as before. She leaves the room so they can talk alone and Chongyun takes the opportunity to ask Xingqiu if he loves him as well. Xingqiu blushes and he confesses that he does. Usually, he won't bother with how other people sees him but he wants his sister to like him because he knows she's important to Chongyun.

Xingqiu takes a sip of the tea and he immediately spits it out because it's spicy. Shenhe may have decided to give Xingqiu a chance but she wanted to get revenge for his pranks one time.

#genshin impact #xingyun #chongqiu #genshin impact chongqiu #genshin impact xingqiu #chongyun and xingqiu #genshin impact shenhe

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myherowritings · 4 years

Text

Maybe It’s Fate

— After discovering the mememate you fell in love with was your ex-boyfriend who broke your heart, you find yourself alone in a bar with a dead phone in a poor attempt to cope. The person who helps you at 3 a.m. is the last person you want to see.

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x f!reader word count: 10,531 genre: modern au, social media au

a/n: hihi welcome to part 25 of toya ! ;) the smau is rated 17+ so keep that in mind because it applies to this part too. it’s a bit thicc so i hope it’s able to keep your attention! skksffsd plspls chat with me and let me know what u think once u read! i’m looking forward to the convos ^-^ [edit: THIS IS NOT THE FINAL PART LOLOL]

Of all the dumb decisions you’ve made in your life, this by far had to be the dumbest of them all.

You were angry and hurt and wanted nothing more than to drown your feelings with overplayed EDM music and cheap booze that reminded you too much of the trash college parties you used to frequent. And while going out to get drunk was no where near your stupidest decision, going out alone with the full intention of returning home with someone else was.

“Is everything okay?” you heard an unfamiliar voice beside you call.

Wishing you had brought more than an empty can of pepper spray, you cautiously turned to face him. You wanted to call a cab or take the train home, but you knew walking alone in the streets in your current condition might just be more stupid than staying at the club. Besides, your phone died right after you sent Kaminari your location.

In other words-- You were truly fucked.

Not that you would let anyone know that, of course.

“Everything’s just fine,” you replied, trying to sound polite but disinterested. “Thanks.”

He kept his distance but sat down at the barstool next to you. “Are you sure? You’re a pretty lady alone at the bar and you’re staring at your drink like it just insulted your favorite grandmother.”

Immediately, the tears of stress and frustration flooded your eyes but you kept them from falling. Your bottom lip quivered and you blamed all the alcohol in your system for your seemingly uncontrollable emotions.

“Am I that transparent?” You sniffled, downing the rest of your drink as you turned towards him.

“Ah-- Wait!” he cried with wide eyes, waving his hands in front of him as you chugged what was in your glass. “Are you sure you should keep drinking? Where are your friends?”

You studied him curiously. He seemed nice and trustworthy, but you couldn’t help but be skeptical of his intentions.

“They’re...around,” you answered, unwilling to admit you were here alone to a random stranger. “And I’m okay! Just here hating men, but what’s new?”

He nodded solemnly. “Understandable. Men suck. Carry on.”

That earned a grin from you.

As the last gulp of vodka settled in your stomach and made its way to your head, you instinctively checked your phone in your pocket only to find it still dead.

Damn. And here you were hoping it would’ve miraculously charged through sheer willpower.

Drumming your fingertips against the empty glass, you let your gaze roam around the perimeter of the nightclub, blinking furiously in confusion when you thought you had spotted a head of all-too-familiar purple hair near the entrance.

“What the…” you trailed off. You could have sworn you just saw Shinsou, but the next second you opened your eyes, he was gone.

Great, you thought to yourself miserably. First he snuck his way into your heart and now you were imagining his presence too?

“You’re really had too much to drink, haven’t you, Y/N?” you chided yourself, head spinning as you instantly regretted the last few gulps.

The guy next to you glanced over in concern, drinking a glass of what you assumed to be respect women juice.

“Can I order you some water?” he fretted. “Or maybe a cab?”

You shook your head to decline but stopped abruptly when your temples started to throb at the sudden motion.

“S’okay,” you slurred. “I just thought I saw--”

“Y/N!”

You froze in your seat.

That voice… It was faint and almost like it wasn’t real, but you knew that voice.

There was no way.

“Good grief, I’m losing it now, huh?” you asked your bar acquaintance with furrowed brows.

He shrugged, not knowing how to reply.

“Y/N, thank god,” the voice said frantically, sounding closer this time. “You’re safe!”

Ever so slowly, you turned around in your seat, eyes squeezed shut.

Even hearing his voice amidst the blaring of music was enough to make your heart twist in pain. It was the same deep timbre you remembered from high school and you haven’t heard it since then. You hated just how much you had missed the familiar sound. It was like a hug of comfort telling you everything was okay and a stab in the gut all at once.

“Y/N,” he said again, almost a whisper this time.

You finally found the courage to open your eyes, but refused to meet his gaze. Instead, you developed a deep interest in the laces of his shoes, reluctant to look up.

“Shinsou…” The name left a bitter taste on your tongue and you wished you had another drink to wash it down with. Your voice hardened. “What are you doing here?”

He winced at your harsh tone but stood unrelenting. “Your friends are worried sick about you. Kaminari was so concerned he even messaged me-- Something I imagine he never wanted to do.”

Your lower lip jutted out in guilt as your stare stayed set on the intricacies of the tiled flooring.

“Why have you not checked your phone?” asked Shinsou in exasperation. “Kaminari was trying to tell you I was going to pick you up.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “My phone died after I sent Denki my location.”

“Died? Did you not charge it before you left? Y/N how could you be so irresponsible--!”

“Is everything okay here?” your unnamed acquaintance said from his seat on the bar. He glanced carefully between you and Hitoshi.

You nodded, sparing him a wry smile. “I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

Shinsou bit the inside of his cheek as he eyed the stranger who sat next to you. “Who’s this?”

“None of your damn business.”

Annoyed by Shinsou’s chiding, you bristled when he frowned at you. He had no right to sound concerned or jealous-- No right to pretend he cared!

Not when he did what he did.

“I know I was being stupid and I’ll call my friends when I get home,” you said, not bothering to hide your irritation. “But you can’t just come here and talk to me like everything is normal! Why are you even here?”

Pushing yourself out of your chair, you stood up and finally looked Hitoshi in the eye, glaring at him. You wobbled on your own two feet and felt the goosebumps on your bare thighs and arms, briefly wishing you had brought a coat with you.

Great, another thing Toshi can call you irresponsible for, you thought crossly, a mixture of hurt and anger in your face as you stared up at him.

“Why are you here?” you repeated as you paced away from the bar--turning back only to give your bar friend a wave goodbye that he returned with a confused look. You headed for the exist of the nightclub as briskly as your legs could carry you in your uncomfortable heels. “How did you know where to find me?”

Shinsou trailed not too far behind you and you begrudgingly admitted to yourself that you felt a warmth near your back from his presence. “Kaminari told me you were alone at a nightclub and this one happened to be only ten minutes from my house.”

You pouted. Small fucking world. Fate must’ve been getting a kick out of this.

“Your friends were worried-- So was I.” You rolled your eyes, but he continued. “And since I was the closest to this place I offered to pick you up.”

Reaching the side doors, you stopped by the stone wall of the building and squinted at him. “You offered and they just let you?”

That did not sound like the friends you knew. You were expecting a full Shinsou beat down from Bakugou alone.

Hitoshi scratched the back of his neck and, in your tipsy stupor, you felt comforted by the familiar habit of his. You swallowed, balling your hands into fists to snap your mind out of it.

It shouldn’t matter how many memories of the past were flooding you-- You were mad at him for lying and you had every right to be.

“Maybe offered is too loose of a word,” he admitted after a moment’s silence, having the decency to appear sheepish. “But we were worried and I knew I could get to you in half the time any of your friends could.”

Sure, it was a logical reason. But that didn’t mean you had to like it. “I would rather have waited double the time if that meant I didn’t have to see you again.”

You stared Hitoshi straight in the eyes as you said that as you tried to ignore the trembling of your lower lip. He flinched at the words, looking hurt. But another part of him looked like he accepted it.

“I know I’m the last person you want to see right now--”

“Mhmm,” you hummed just to be petty.

“--but we had no way of knowing if you were safe. Especially when you stopped replying to anyone! This was the quickest way.”

Folding your arms across your chest you stubbornly held his gaze. “Well, I’m safe. So you can leave now.”

Shinsou pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Please. I know you hate me and you have every right to--”

“I don’t hate you,” you muttered under your breath. As much as you wish you did, you don’t think you could ever really hate him.

He blinked slowly and you could have sworn you saw a shimmer of hope in his expression. You tore your gaze away, studying the small fissures and cracks on the otherwise smooth pavement.

“Oh,” he breathed almost imperceptibly. “Thank you.”

You pretended not to hear him.

“Regardless of whether you hate me or not, I know you don’t want to see me--and I apologize for showing up so suddenly--but will you please let me bring you home safely?” Hitoshi pleaded. “Or to your friend’s house if you don’t want to be alone.”

With your lips squeezed shut, you rubbed the goosebumps off your upper arm. It was cold and your head was spinning and you had no clue what to say to him.

Silently, Shinsou took off his outer coat and gently draped it over your shoulders, fastening the top button near the collar so it wouldn’t fall off your frame. You looked at him in surprise, unshed tears stinging the back of your eyes as you recalled all the times he’d given you his jacket while you were dating.

There were more times that you cared to admit where you conveniently “forgot” your jacket or wore too little layers on a cold day just so Hitoshi could give you his and you’d be enveloped in his scent.

And that’s exactly what was happening now. Shinsou’s coat surrounded your body like a warm hug and your nose was filled with a scent exactly like the one you remembered from when you were dating. He smelled like a sweet sandalwood with a mixture of fresh jasmine. He smelled like a field of flowers you’d find after a long trek through a woodsy forest. He smelled like home.

But he wasn’t.

In actuality, you haven’t been this close to Shinsou since your break up.

It had been years since you had seen him or talked to him or even been close enough to catch a trace of his scent. And now he was flooding every one of your senses with no care of the repercussions.

Your head was light.

You missed him. You cared for him. You never stopped loving him.

And now old wounds that never fully healed had been ripped open all at once.

“You were shivering,” Hitoshi stated quietly. “So I gave you my--”

He stopped short when he heard a sniffle coming from your direction, eyes growing wide as your buried your face in the palms of your shaking hands.

Through the cracks between your fingers, you saw Shinsou reach out to cup your face, stopping himself before he could touch you and withdrawing as if he had been burned. As stupid as it was, you wanted nothing more than to feel his touch against your skin and you found yourself involuntarily taking a half-step closer to him.

Your silent tears feel even faster.

“Are you crying?”

Despite the droplets of water blurring your eyes, you managed to glare up at him for his dumb question.

He grimaced. “Sorry. I’m...sorry.”

Although you were the one crying, you still noticed the pained look on Shinsou’s face. He seemed just as conflicted as you were, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands so hard his knuckles appeared white.

When he opened his mouth to speak his voice sounded choked, but still gentle. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

“Just peachy,” you murmured, barely moving your lips. The two of you stood there in awkward silence, nothing but the sounds of your labored breaths filling the air until you blurted, “Actually, you know what--? No. I’m not!”

Shinsou opened his mouth to speak but no noise came out. That was just fine by you, though. You had plenty of things you wanted to say, regardless of his response.

“I’m angry at you! And confused. And sad. And hurt! I don’t know if I want to yell at you or ignore you or run right back into your arms--” Your voice cracked and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to slow your sharp breathing.

You hugged yourself around your waist, painfully aware of how comforting his jacket felt around your body. A part of you wished you could just tear the coat off your shoulders, throw it onto a puddle on the floor, give Shinsou the middle finger, and turn away without looking back.

But you couldn’t.

Instead, you let your tears continue to fall as you glowered at Hitoshi’s shoes.

“I am so mad at you,” you managed, hands clutching the fabric at your sides. “You lied to me, Hitoshi. You lied to me and you didn’t trust me and you left!”

The hurt from your past which you never wanted to accept mixed with anger from the present, both fueling your surge in emotions.

“And now you’re here--in front of me--acting like everything is okay?!” you shouted in exasperation. Your face was burning despite the chilling breeze outside. “Do you even care about me? Have you ever even cared about me?”

He gritted his teeth, hurt that you would even ask that. “Of course. Of course I care about you, Y/N! Even through all these years I’ve never stopped caring about you.”

“Funny way of showing it.”

His laugh was humorless. “I’m a fuck up. I know.”

Your gaze softened just the slightest bit. “Hey-- I didn’t say that.”

Shinsou shrugged. “Regardless, I did fuck up with you. And I’m so sorry for that.”

“For which time?” By now, the tears flowing out of your eyes slowed, the remnants dried by the biting wind. You gave him a wry smile, unamused.

“Both times,” he answered without hesitation. “I hurt you when I broke up with you for no damn reason and I lied when I told you I didn’t love you. That was the biggest lie of my life-- I still loved you. So much. But I jumped to conclusions and didn’t give you the change to explain. I owe you so much more than an apology but it’s the least I can give you right now.”

You rolled your lower lip between your teeth, hating yourself for wanting to accept his apology and jump into his arms. He gave no excuses for what he did and his words were genuine. That much you knew for certain.

Slowly, he inched towards you.

“I really am sorry, Y/N.” He paused. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

You stayed silent, holding your breath as the pad of his thumb brushed against your damp cheek. Shinsou wiped away your flood of tears with a touch so gentle, it felt like a feather on your face.

His thumb lingered on your cheekbone, his fingertips lightly grazing your jaw, and you found yourself ever so slightly leaning into his palm. The tension in your muscles loosened and if you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend you were back with the Shinsou you loved in high school-- As if he never left and nothing had ever changed.

Just for a moment, you tricked yourself into being truly happy. You tricked yourself into thinking that maybe you and Hitoshi could still be in love.

You wanted to capture this second and replay it on an infinite loop, but just like all moments, this too had to come to an end.

As you opened your eyes, Hitoshi reluctantly brought his hand back to his side.

“Sorry,” he said, voice hoarse. “You were crying and I just wanted to--” He shook his head, cutting himself off before his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”

It sounded like his apology was meant for more than just wiping some tears off your face.

You nodded almost imperceptibly, the anger in your gaze diffused by hurt and longing. “I know.”

As the minutes passed, neither one of you made a move to step away from the other-- Your bodies mere inches apart and so close, yet never quite touching.

Suddenly, Hitoshi cleared his throat.

“Er-- If you’ll let me, I think I should bring you home now,” he said, forcibly shaking himself out of his daze and pulling his phone out. “It’s almost four in the morning.”

Blinking, you rubbed your eyes. Not that he mentioned the time, you realized just how tired you were. You wanted to take a bubble bath, change into fluffy pajamas, and sleep until the following night.

“Do you have to go to your flower shop tomorrow?”

“Hmm?” You were startled. You had almost forgotten that the man in front of you was the same person you considered your “mememate.” As much as you hated to admit it, he probably knew more about you than some of your closest friends.

Biting your lip, you snapped yourself out of it.

“Oh-- Right. My flower shop.”

He nodded.

“No, I don’t have work tomorrow,” you answered finally. “I may not have made the smartest decisions tonight, but I’m not that irresponsible.”

A shadow of a smile graced his face. “Of course not.”

Fishing his keys from his pocket, Shinsou walked to the parking lot of the nightclub, looking over his shoulder to check if you were following.

When his gaze met yours you immediately stuck your tongue out at him haughtily so he knew you were only following him as a last resort and you needed to get home-- Not because you wanted to.

You caught a glimpse of his grin before he turned around, and you managed to stop yourself before one spread to your lips as well.

Stopping at a black car with tinted windows, Hitoshi unlocked it with his keys, opening the door of the passenger seat and waiting for you to safely enter.

“I can open a door myself,” you murmured, sliding into the seat securely before he gently shut it close.

“I know,” you heard his amused voice call through the window.

It felt like there was one, singular butterfly fluttering around in your stomach and causing mayhem, and you batted it away before Hitoshi could come in and see the grin on your face.

“Did I just see you just hit yourself in the gut?” he asked when he entered through the driver’s side.

“No.”

“Okay.”

Subtly, you rubbed your tummy in a soft, circular motion. You hadn’t meant to punch the butterfly that hard.

“Didn’t hit yourself, huh?”

You flushed. “Oh, hush.”

With a snort, Hitoshi turned the engine of his car on and you let your eyes explore the interior. It was sleek and clean, smelling like a mixture of sandalwood and new car.

Reaching behind the gear level, he pulled out a white cord and handed it to you. You stared at the object in his hands.

“For you,” he said, with a raised brow. “You should charge your phone and let your friends know you’re on your way home.”

Wordlessly, you accepted it from him. Careful not to let your fingers brush against his in fear of the spark it might cause.

“I messaged Kaminari earlier to let him know you were safe. But he probably wants to hear it from you.”

You nodded as you plugged your dead phone in. “Thanks.”

He hummed, putting the car on drive and backing out of the parking spot, stopping before he reached the main street.

“Do you know how to get home from here?” he asked. As you shook your head, Hitoshi handed you his fully charged phone that was opened on the navigation app. “You can search for your address.”

“Got it.” The air between you was almost suffocatingly awkward as you typed in where you lived, each click of the keyboard ringing into the stillness of the night. After finding turning the directions on, you handed the phone back to him. “Thanks.”

Shaking his head, he waved you off. “You don’t need to keep thanking me, Y/N. This is the least I could do.”

Averting your gaze, you twiddled your thumbs in your lap, unsure what to say. You had so much you wanted to tell him--so much you wanted to ask--but when it came to it, you froze.

Just then, your phone made a sound from its spot near the gear shift, buzzing and lighting up as it finally turned on. A plethora of notifications filled your screen and you found yourself feeling guilty for making your friends worry like that.

Five missed calls for Kaminari, three missed calls from Todoroki, and nine missed calls from Bakugou. You gulped. You were definitely going to get your ears talked off by those three once they got a hold of you.

But amidst the calls and texts of worry from your friends, you also noticed a handful of messages from Hitoshi. He sent you texts asking if you were okay and telling you not to worry because he was on his way to get you. There was a lump in your throat when he saw the messages were still from your mememate-- You never did get around to changing his contact name.

From the corner of your eye you saw Hitoshi glancing down at your phone screen, a look of regret apparent on his face. When he caught you staring, he directed his attention back on the road, clearing his throat as he followed the directions on the navigation system.

To think only a week ago, things were so different between the two of you.

You thought he was a random stranger you connected with through the power of memes, never having a clue that he was your ex this whole time. You found yourself opening up and sharing your private feelings with him despite the promise you made yourself to always guard your heart.

Even anonymously, Hitoshi climbed over your walls and found his way to the inner workings of your life. Even anonymously, he made everything feel like it was okay.

But a part of you was scared--so scared--that it was all in your head and he was only playing you this whole time. And at this point, you were just too afraid to ask.

“Are you crying again?”

“What?!” you yelped in alarm, wiping at your slightly damp face with the sleeves of his coat. “No, you asshole!” You glared at him, a few loose tears still gathered by the corners of your eyes. You refused to let them fall through the use of sheer willpower. “The air conditioning is just blasting into my eyes.”

“The air conditioner is off.”

You blinked. “Well that makes sense. It’s so hot in here I’m just sweating through my eyes.”

He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “Right.”

The lighthearted mood didn’t last very long, however, when your phone buzzed once more and the notifications from earlier tonight appeared on your lockscreen.

“I really made everyone worry, huh?” You sighed, leaning back against the headrest and shutting your eyes, the effects of the alcohol long since worn off. “I can’t believe I did something like this.”

He signaled a left turn and waited until he was at the red light before continuing. “I’m sorry for causing this.”

You stared at him in confusion. “What do you mean? Causing this?”

“Yeah. If I had just told you who I was the moment I found out, this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have been scared and alone at a random nightclub and your friends wouldn’t have been in near panic for hours. Hell-- If I hadn’t run away like that all those years ago none of this would have happened.” His fingers tightened around the steering wheel so hard it left indents on the leather. “You wouldn’t have felt all the pain and heartbreak and--”

His voice grew hoarse as it broke off, as if something was tightening around his throat. Holding your breath, you gazed at him in concern.

You were angry at Hitoshi and thought he had a lot of explaining to do-- Sure. But...for him to blame himself for everything that happened? That was more weight than anyone should bear on their own.

Surprising both him and yourself, you firmly placed your hand on top of his as he gripped the steering wheel. His hands were cold and rough from the wind, and you were certain yours weren’t much better. But still, you held him. And still, it felt right.

“Not everything is your fault, Toshi,” you said quietly, his old nickname slipping out of your mouth before you could stop it, like it was natural for you to call him that.

His eyes widened and a flush filled your cheeks.

You coughed to relieve the tension in your neck. “I just mean… You don’t need to blame yourself for everything. You messed up and there’s no denying that, but this isn’t all your fault. I mean it.”

Your eyes met before he tore his gaze away to focus on driving. Quickly, you retracted your hand from on top of Shinsou’s, cradling it against your stomach as you felt the burn from his skin linger on yours.

“Thank you.” His voice was solemn and grateful, as if he needed to hear those words at least once in his life. “You’re too caring, you know? Your heart is too good.”

You let out a breath of laughter, brushing his compliment off. “Yours is too. It’s just been through some shit. And maybe didn’t make the best decisions.”

“It most definitely didn’t.”

Though neither of you were looking at each other, there was a shared sense of happiness between the two of you--regardless of how brief it may have been. There was a small smile playing on your face as you bit your lip to keep it from growing wider.

You hadn’t fully forgiven Hitoshi, he still had some explaining to do, but you felt a sense of calmness when you realized that maybe forgiveness would be possible.

Before you knew it, you heard the navigator say, “Your destination is on the right,” as Hitoshi pulled up at the curb in front of your building.

“We’re here,” he announced slowly, one hand on the gear level as if he wasn’t sure what to do next.

There was an awkward silence as you unplugged your phone from his car charger. It wasn’t that you wanted to spend more time with him exactly (that was definitely not the case), but rather you had more questions to ask. And what better time to figure out those questions than at four in the morning?

“You’ve been driving for a while…” you trailed off, hoping he caught the hint without too much embarrassment on your part. “Do you want to use the restroom before you drive back home?”

Hitoshi scratched the back of his neck. “No, I’m good. I wasn’t out for that long.”

“O-Oh,” you stuttered, a sudden feeling of nerves settling in your stomach. Not those damned butterflies again. “Well, how about… Maybe you want a glass of water or a cup of tea?”

He gave you a curious look but set his car to park and turned off the engine nonetheless. “Sure…? Some water would be nice.”

You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding, pulling your keys out of your pocket and unbuckling your seatbelt. Before you could open the car door for yourself, Hitoshi was already on the passenger’s side ready to open it for you.

“I know how to open a door,” you muttered with a roll of your eye, but felt a faint flush litter your cheeks nonetheless. You hopped out of your seat, accepting the hand he offered to stead you. “But...thank you.”

“No worries.”

For someone you were still mad at, he was making it damn hard for you to stay petty.

Despite the light throbbing in your head, both from drinking too much alcohol and from staying up too late, you were able to lead him inside your living room with no complications--only struggling with unlocking the door just a little.

“Welcome to my house,” you said, flapping your arms around and fidgeting in place. You slid off your shoes and placed them at the doorway and Hitoshi followed suit. “You can, uh, sit on the couch while I get you water. Or you can follow me into the kitchen…?”

Your eyes scanned the floors and furniture of your apartment. You liked maintaining your living space clean and clutter-free, so it wasn’t too much of a mess. Still, you weren’t expecting any guests and it wasn’t as nice as it could have been…

You shook your head, giving your face a light slap when you thought no one was looking. You shouldn’t be bothered. It was just Hitoshi here. Someone you most definitely no longer cared about.

Or so you kept telling yourself.

He followed behind you, grabbing at his neck and glancing between your walls and you, unsure what to look at in this new environment. After all, it wasn’t everyday you picked up your ex that you haven’t seen for four years at a bar only to be invited into their house.

“I can go with you to the kitchen,” he answered with uncertainty.

“G-Great!”

You grimaced. When did you become Tony the Tiger all of a sudden?

As you grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, you filled them up with ice and water, setting one next to Shinsou on the countertop.

He accepted it. “Thank you.”

You nodded and there was an awkward silence, both of you taking long sips from your glass, not knowing where to go from here. You knew you wanted to talk to him, but what were you going to ask exactly? What was the right way to go about this situation?

Next to you, Hitoshi looked like he was having some inner struggles of his own. His fingers flexed and unflexed around the cool glass, both avoiding your gaze and looking at you at the same time.

Biting your lip, you turned to look at him. As uncomfortable as it was, there was no better time to ask than now.

“Can we talk--?”

“We should talk--”

You both started and stopped at the same time.

There was a beat of elongated silence before the two of you laughed. Shaking your head, you buried your face in your hands, peering at him between your fingers.

“This is silly,” you cried in embarrassment. “Why are we so awkward?”

Hitoshi shrugged as a flustered laugh escaped his own lips. “Because this is weird. This is a strange situation we’re in and no one would ever expect something like this to happen.”

“Exactly!”

“But,” he continued, almost hesitantly, “I’m kind of glad it did, though.”

Your own laughter quieted down as the mood became more serious. You drank another gulp of water to quench your suddenly parched throat.

“Can we talk in the living room?” you asked, heading towards the hallway when Hitoshi nodded. You figured if you were going to have an uncomfortable conversation, you may as well try to find some comfort in your warm and plush sofa.

You sat down at the edge near the armrest and he took a seat not too far from you. There was less than a cushion space separating the two of you and if you were to move a few inches, your thighs would be touching.

Tearing your gaze away from your legs, you looked up to face Hitoshi. “You don’t have to answer, but… There have been some questions on my mind lately.”

He nodded, as if expecting you to say that. “Ask away. It’s the least I could do.”

You curled your legs and hugged your knees to your chest, peering at him through your lashes.

“Okay,” you said somewhat unsurely. Confrontation was never easy. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew who I was? How long were you planning on keeping it from me?”

Hitoshi ran a hand through his hair, tufts of purple sticking out in random patterns. Somehow, it suited him.

“I found out a day or so before you confessed to liking...your mememate,” he admitted. He had told you this through text when you asked, but hearing it a second time didn’t make it hurt any less. “I was going to tell you that day, too. But then you told me you liked me and I didn’t know how to break it to you then.”

You looked away, embarrassed at the reminder of the night you poured your heart out to him. He knew you were his ex the whole time and still didn’t stop you? You scoffed, “Well, you could’ve stopped me before I humiliated myself like that.”

“Humiliate-- How?”

“What do you mean how?” You glared. “I totally embarrassed myself that night by saying how much I liked you--my ex!--only to have you basically reject me on the spot!”

“I didn’t reject you.”

“I told you that you were the first person I liked since...well you,” you said, rubbing your temples to ease your own confusion. “And you never said it back. Not that you needed to. It’s totally fine that you don’t. It’s just that… I don’t even know. I just wish I never said anything.”

He placed the glass he was holding onto a coaster on your coffee table, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” said Hitoshi. “But that’s not it at all. I wasn’t trying to reject you. I would’ve told you I liked you back-- I wanted to, I swear.”

Your head snapped to his. He wanted to tell you? As in he started liking you too? Even when he didn’t know who you were?

With a wistful smile, he continued, “But it wasn’t fair to you. Not when I knew who you were and you didn’t know who I was. You didn’t deserve that bullshit.”

You stretched your legs out so they were dangling off the couch, folding one carefully over the other as you crossed your arms. “Then you should’ve just told me the truth about who you were.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He hung his head. “And if I did, you never would’ve told me your feelings.”

“Exactly,” you huffed. “They’d be safe and locked away in my heart until they disappeared.”

He was silent as you turned his body towards yours, resting his arm on the back cushions of the sofa.

“Is that really what you want, though?” he asked. “You’re so kind and beautiful and you deserve to open your heart to someone and be happy with them.” A flush rose to your cheeks at his sudden words of kindness but you shook it away. “I never knew I hurt you so badly that you were scared to love again-- And I’ll hate myself everyday for that.”

“Hitoshi…” Your gaze softened. You wanted to reach out and smooth down his hair but you couldn’t.

He hurt you, yes. But to hate himself and never forgive himself for it? You thought that was far too extreme.

“When you broke up with me,” you started slowly, unsure how to go about this, “you said that our relationship was nothing more than some cheap dates and sex.” He winced, holding his stomach as if he felt nauseous. “If you’re so regretful now, why did you ever say something like that? Did I really mean nothing to you?”

“No-- Of course you meant something to me. Y/N, you were everything to me. And it’s ridiculous of me to say this now but I never wanted to hurt you like that,” Hitoshi said, his eyes squeezed shut. “But I did and I’m so sorry. I thought if I told you those mean things you would find it easier to just hate me and move on. Be with Kaminari or someone who could make you happy.”

You glared at him with both sadness and anger, nails digging into your palms. “I was happy. With you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“A little.”

Taken aback, you stared at him. You weren’t sure what response you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“But not because of anything you did,” he rushed before you could get the wrong idea. “I just thought you were a good person who truly deserved something better than what I could give. You should be with someone who wasn’t anxious and insecure and messed up.”

You were unsure if you wanted to smack Hitoshi or give him a hug, so you sat there stock-still.

“Even when I saw you with Kaminari, a part of me thought it would be better off that way,” he admitted, a scornful look on his face as he scoffed at himself. “But that wasn’t my call to make, was it? And how I went about it was wrong and dishonest. I’m really sorry.”

He tugged at a loose thread on the sofa while staring at you in earnest. There were so many things to say and not enough time in the night to say it.

“You’re right. It wasn’t your call,” you said, furrowing your brows. “I wish you would’ve told me you were feeling this way all those years ago. I loved you--regardless of what you may have thought. And what you said really hurt me.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I fucked up and hurt you more deeply than I could’ve ever imagined. You felt like you couldn’t have feelings for anyone for all those years because of what I did, and if I could take it all back, I would.”

His hand trembled slightly as he reached out to cup your face, pulling away harshly before he could touch you.

“You deserve to find love, Y/N. Even if it’s not with me because I know I have no right to anyone’s heart after what I did--”

“Hey, don’t say that!” you interrupted, a wrinkle forming as you scrunched up your nose. You frowned at him. “You deserve to find love again, too. You may have messed up a few times, and I’m not going to pretend like I wasn’t hurt, but I still care about you. A lot. And just because you made some really bad decisions doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to ever be happy.”

He looked down at his lap, hands curled into fists by his side. You had the sinking suspicion he didn’t believe you.

Swallowing your pride, you inched closer to him, lightly lifting his chin so he stared at you face-to-face. The dark purple of his eyes stormed as a conflicted expression overcame him and you wanted to run a finger over his brow and brush the insecurities away.

Quietly, you whispered, “You’re so worthy of love, Hitoshi. And it makes me so sad that you still haven’t realized it.”

You felt a piece of your heart chip as he pulled away from you, gritting his teeth as he hung his head. When he spoke, his voice sounded choked, as if he was holding back tears.

“You’ve shown me too much kindness,” he said, words shakey. “Even after I assumed you cheated and broke up with you in the cruelest way possible--”

His voice cracked and he couldn’t speak. With his gaze avoiding yours he pushed himself off the couch.

“God, I’m sorry,” Hitoshi muttered, his face a look of self-disdain. “I shouldn’t even be here in your life right now. I should just--”

Your hand grabbed the one he used to shove himself off your sofa, holding his fingers tight in between yours. With your head bowed, you called, “Don’t leave again. Not yet.”

He froze in his spot, one leg immobile in front of the other in the direction of the door. Desperately, you tugged at his arm so he looked back at you. Your eyes pleaded with him. This wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be the end until you received your closure and Hitoshi received his.

“You know that night we played Truth or Drink?” you asked, breaking the silence.

He stared back at you curiously, slowly sitting down as you patted the seat next to you. Cautiously, he nodded in response.

That night was a pivotal time in bonding with your mememate and it was the closest you had felt with anyone besides your best friends.

Continuing, you said, “You told me about your dad cheating on your mom. And then seeing me and Denki the next day after I lied about who I was with.”

There was no accusatory tone in your voice, and you stated it as if you were recalling the facts. But still, Hitoshi winced.

“Yeah, shit.” He placed his palm over his forehead, rubbing at his temple as he grimaced. “I really just jumped to conclusions like that and it was unfair to you. I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t reply to his apology, but gave him a small smile. “That night, I told you I thought your response was understandable. It made sense that you were mistrustful at the time. Especially after just finding out about your parents-- People I know you looked up to. Even in regards to love.”

Hitoshi wore a guarded expression, but still listened keenly to what you had to say.

“Toshi… My opinion on that doesn’t change just because I now know it was me you were talking about.”

“Y/N--”

“Don’t get me wrong,” you clarified, not wanting to sound too lenient. “I’m still hurt that you couldn’t trust me. I wish you confronted me so we could’ve cleared up the misunderstanding. I wish you hadn’t stood me up on our anniversary date. But most importantly… I wish I could have been there for you when you found out about your parents.”

Hitoshi sat there in silence, mouth opening but unable to form the sentences he wanted.

You gave him a look of regret, one hand still not letting go of his even as he stayed seated beside you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”

“It’s not your fault. At all.”

As you shook your head, he faltered. “Still, you went to America, alone, and never told anyone what was wrong. You kept all these feelings to yourself this whole time and I hate that so much.”

“I didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. I don’t deserve to--”

Your fingers twitched. How many times was he going to beat himself while he was already down?

“Stop saying that!” you snapped, unable to contain your emotions. “You are not a burden. And you deserve so much more than you think you do.”

His eyes widened at your outburst and his lips parted slightly.

“It’s good you know what you did was wrong-- You can’t pretend lying and making assumptions was okay because it’s not. But you know it’s not! And you acknowledge that and it seems like you regret it.” Your voice took on a desperate tone as you tried to get Hitoshi to see his mistakes as something separate from his worth as a whole. “You’ve made mistakes, but you can grow from them. Fucking up doesn’t mean you’re undeserving of love and happiness. You don’t have to take all the blame onto yourself.”

“How can I not take the blame?” he asked, his frustration at himself matching yours. “If I had been a better boyfriend, I would have trusted you more. If I had been a better person, I wouldn’t have lied to you. And maybe if I had been a better son, my parents--”

As if your body had a mind of its own, you threw your arms around him in a hug before he could finish his sentence. You heard a sharp inhale come from him as he sat, rigid.

“Don’t,” you whispered, breathing harshly as you held him tight. “Please, Toshi. Don’t say that. If no one ever told you this, please listen to me then. It’s not your fault. Your parents divorcing has nothing to do with your worth. Don’t blame yourself for the issues they had.”

His shoulders were still tense despite the shudder of tears you felt.

“You don’t need to blame yourself for everything. Hold yourself accountable, yes. Always strive to be a better person, yes. But don’t think it’s all your fault,” you pleaded. “You don’t have to handle everything on your own. You can lean on someone, Toshi.” You gently stroked the hair on the back of his head. “You can lean on me.”

At your words, you felt him visibly relax, his body free of the tension as you held him close.

Suddenly, his arms wrapped around you as he returned your embrace, his strong hands firmly gripping your waist as if he never wanted to let you go. You found yourself loosening up at his touch and you placed your head in his chest.

Peering up at him through your lashes, you said, “I don’t know if you need to hear this, but I need to say it.”

His thumb stroked the length of your spine as you continued.

“I forgive you, Hitoshi. For everything.” He stopped moving as he looked at you in surprise. You simply smiled at him. “Your apologies were genuine and so is your regret. I know you’re a good person and I forgive you, so please stop blaming yourself now.”

“Thank you, Y/N. So much.” He pulled away ever so slightly, feelings of guilt still flooding him. “But I feel like I still don’t deserve it though--”

A noise of protest bubbled up at your throat. “I swear to god, if I hear the d-word come out of your mouth again, I’ll make you shut up.” After a moment’s pause, you tried to hide your laughter. “Heh. D-word.”

“Oh my god,” he said, his amusement escaping him. With his arms still around your waist, he challenged, “How would you make me shut up?”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Hitoshi laughed a genuine laugh that you haven’t heard in years. The deep rumble had a smile of your own forming on your lips.

But the mood turned serious when you gazed into his eyes again.

“Really, though…” you said, squeezing the fabric at his sides. “I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way for so long without telling anyone. I hope you know you can always talk to me.”

He tilted his head back, staring at your ceiling as you caught sight of his Adam’s apple. “Why are you being so nice to me after how much I hurt you?”

“Because I care about you,” you answered simply. “And I know you still care about me. You wouldn’t be this hung up over everything if you didn’t.”

There was a sort of smugness in you as you teased him and he let out a breath of laughter.

“Hah. I do. I care about you. And I’ve missed you so much.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but he hugged you even closer to him. Your arms released their embrace on Hitoshi as you brought them to your sides. He looked down at you with a strange expression.

“I’ve missed you, too,” you admitted, squeezing your eyes shut as if it pained you. “You’re the first and only person I’ve ever loved and I miss you more than you could ever know.”

Your head was bowed at his chest as you tried to steady your trembling hands by grasping the fabric at the front of his shirt.

“Why did you never call me? Why didn’t you tell me you were moving to another continent? Toshi, I loved you so much--” Your voice broke off as the tears you were holding in escaped you. “Why did you leave me?”

His fingers were laced in your hair, holding you tight. He wanted nothing more than to soothe your tears and hated himself for being the cause of them. “I’m an insecure idiot who fucked up the best thing that ever happened to him.”

Through the blur of tears, you saw the wistful look on his face. The best thing? you thought to yourself, touched.

“No amount of apologizing is going to fix anything,” he said, accepting it as a fact, “but I am so sorry. And I want you to know I’m grateful the person who AirDropped me that day was you.”

He lifted your chin and wiped your tears away with the pad of his thumb. Your knees were touching his thighs as you sat down with your legs folded under you, facing him. Letting go of the grip you had on his shirt, you unballed your fists and instead rested your palms on his chest.

You grinned at the audacity of it all. “I still can’t believe that happened. But I’m glad it did, too.”

“Must be a small world.”

“Or maybe it’s fate.” Your hand found his as you interlocked pinkies with him bashfully.

Hitoshi looked down at your interlaced fingers and a light dusting of pink colored his cheeks. A sense of enjoyment filled you as he continued to blush, a teasing grin playing on your face.

Before you lost any courage you had, you pressed your lips against the corner of his mouth-- Not quite a kiss but most definitely an invitation for one.

The red on his cheeks died down as his eyes darkened in color, removing his hand from your waist to cup your jaw. Hitoshi’s palm was warm and soft against you and you leaned into his caress.

“Do you feel like you got the closure you needed?” he asked, his voice a whisper as he leaned close to you.

“Yes.” You nodded, painfully aware of your close proximity. If you were to lift your head up any more, your lips would brush against his. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

His forehead was pressed against yours and your heart was being so hard, you were certain Hitoshi could hear it from his spot in front of you.

After a moment’s silence, you said, “Now what?”

He shrugged, eyes shut. “That’s up to you to decide. I’m happy with doing whatever will make you happiest. And if that means leaving you alone and letting you close this chapter, then I--”

You yelped, silencing him with a gentle shove on the chest.

“Are you crazy?” you asked incredulously. “You think I would ever let you go again?” There was frustration in your voice as you resisted the temptation to kiss the stupidity out of him. “I… I mean, unless that’s what you want?”

“Y/N…” Now he was the one with the tone of disbelief, like he couldn’t wrap his mind around what you had just said. “I’d want to stay with you. For as long as you’d let me.”

“O-Oh?” Your eyes widened in shock, but soon settled into an ecstatic smile. “Fate must have done us a favor with all this AirDrop stuff, huh? I fell for you all those years ago as Shinsou, and I fell for you again without even knowing who you were. There’s no way I’d throw that chance away.”

Tired of waiting for him to make the first move, you brought your hands to the back of his neck, and lifted your head up to meet his. You spotted an amused look on his face, but it didn’t last very long when your lips finally pressed against his with a contented sigh.

His movements were gentle and slow, like he was afraid if he kissed you any harder he would find this was only an illusion that would shatter. But it wasn’t. It was real and it was genuine and you wanted to prove it to him.

You broke away from his touch to pepper chaste kisses on his jawline, starting at the lobe of his ear and making your way down to the sensitive part of his throat you knew would drive him crazy, your hot breath blowing against his neck as a guttural sound escaped him.

“Eager, are we?” he asked hoarsely, his chin lifted.

You grinned mischievously against him.

“As much as I appreciate the gesture,” said Hitoshi, gently pushing you away with a roguish glint in his eyes, “you don’t always have to keep giving. You should be spoiled for a change.”

You squealed when his hands trailed down your sides to cup the undersides of your thighs, lifting you up as you sat down on his lap. His hands unclasped the button that fastened his coat on you and brushed the collar aside, exposing the supple skin on your upper chest.

“You should be spoiled,” he breathed in between each kiss he planted on your decolletage, “every day of your life.”

Your face burned at the implication of his words, the skin his mouth had touched feeling like they were searing hot. Though his jacket had fallen off your shoulders, you were still overwhelmed by his scent, the woodsy citrus filling your senses as you sighed his name and you still couldn’t get enough. He was more intoxicating than any vodka you had consumed earlier that night.

Growing impatient at his teasing, you squirmed on his lap, causing him to hiss in response.

You giggled at his expression and stuck your tongue out at him. “Just kiss me already.”

Tossing his inhibitions to the side, he obliged.

When your lips met again, this time it wasn’t uncertain and gentle. Each move Hitoshi made was firm and deliberate and if you weren’t already sitting down, your knees would have gone weak and given in.

His teeth grazed your lower lip and he kissed you harder, and your hands found themselves tangled underneath the hem of his shirt. The skin on your arms filled with goosebumps as he mimicked your motions, his fingers toying with the clasp of your bra as his name escaped your lips once more in a strangled moan.

Before it could go any further, however, Hitoshi removed his hands from the band of your undergarments and slowly pulled away from your kiss.

His face was flushed with beads of sweat falling down the side and his breathing was labored. You were certain you weren’t any better as you rested your forehead against his to steady yourself.

“Why’d you stop?” you asked with a strained voice, giving him your best pleading eyes.

“It’s late and you need some rest, baby.” He pressed a soft kiss to your nose with a smile. “I don’t want to stop--believe me,” he promised, his hands squeezing your thighs that still straddled his lap, “but I also don’t want you to rush into anything you might regret.”

You pouted, not wanting him to stop, but also feeling grateful he wanted to make sure you weren’t going to do anything you would regret the next day.

“Damn you for being such a gentleman,” you grumbled.

He ran the tip of his tongue against his lower lip. It was plump and red and it took all your willpower not to kiss it again.

“Only sometimes, princess,” he said when he noticed how your gaze zeroed in on his mouth. “But for now, you should get ready for bed. The sun is almost rising already.”

Hitoshi made a move to get up and you slowly unwrapped your legs from his hips, standing up shakily. He placed his hands on your hips to help you steady yourself, but that just made the weakness worse.

Still holding you, he stood up from the couch and looked down at you, resting his chin on the top of your head as you hugged him.

“You’re leaving?” you whimpered, a pout on your face.

“Sadly,” he sighed. “I have work tomorrow. Well, in a few hours I suppose. But if you need me to stay I--”

“Oh, my god!” you cried, jumping away from him. “You have work? And yet you still came for me and let me keep you this whole time?! Toshi!”

You folded your arms across your chest as you scolded him, but he just ruffled your hair playfully.

“It was the least I could do,” said Hitoshi. “And I’m used to running on little to no sleep. It’s fine, don’t worry about me.”

“It’s not fine! If you don’t get enough sleep this week I will smother you until you pass out.” You glared at him, holding his face between your hands and examining his tired eyes. Your gaze softened when you saw how sleepy he looked and thought about how well he hid it from everyone. You sighed. “And I think you’re a lot more selfless and caring than you give yourself credit for.”

You kissed the apples of his cheeks and smoothed his brows.

“Thank you for tonight,” you said. “You should get going.”

“No, you’re the one I should be thanking,” he replied, giving you one last embrace before getting ready to head towards the door.

Both of your legs felt like lead, neither of you wanting to leave the other after years of being apart. With a smile, he moved towards the door.

In silence, you examined him for the first time in four years. He was taller than before-- Bulkier, too. It looked like he worked out since he was in college, his plain shirt stretching against his pectoral muscles.

But still, he was the same Shinsou Hitoshi you had always loved.

You glanced at his bared arms and your eyes widened. “Oh, wait--! Your coat!”

It had fallen off your shoulders and onto the floor during the heat of the moment, and you picked it up and brought it to him. As you held it out, his hands wrapped your outstretched ones around the fabric of his sweater.

“No, it’s okay,” he said with a shake of his head and a small grin on his lips. “You should keep it. It suits you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him in warning, but hugged the coat to your body nonetheless. “I hope you know this means I’m never giving it back to you now.”

Hitoshi laughed. “I figured.”

He was about to grab the door knob when you blurted, “O-Or maybe I could give it back to you! If we were to, I don’t know, meet up for some food this week?”

Turning back in surprise, he was met with a look of utter embarrassment on your face. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire.

You bit your lip, unsure what had just come over you when you asked him on a date but also not regretting it for a moment.

“Only if you want,” you murmured, suddenly feeling more bashful.

Taking the hint, Hitoshi looked at you with a mix of wonder and amusement. “Sure. I’ll get some food with you just to have my coat back.”

You gasped, cheeks burning. “You know what? Never mind, I’m keeping this--!”

“I’m kidding,” he laughed, tone still teasing. “The jacket is just a bonus. What I’d really be there for is...the food.”

You buried your head in your hands and sighed. “I-- Why do I have to like you?”

He shrugged, feeling just as lost as you were. “Because feelings are strange.”

“They are,” you agreed. “But they’re worth it. And so are you.”

Hitoshi smiled as you gave him a gentle kiss goodnight.

“Have a safe drive home, Toshi.”

“Thank you. Go get some sleep now, kitten. We can talk when you wake up.”

You nodded feverishly, almost bouncing in anticipation at the thought of talking to him again. “I’m going to sleep right now so I wake up faster and get to talk to you sooner.”

A chuckle of surprise left his lips before he could stop himself. “You’re such a dork, you know? But I love that about you.”

Your face heated at the sound of the l-word as the two of you stared at each other, both in shock that the night happened and even happier that it did.

“I… I should go now,” he said in a daze. He didn’t want to leave and you didn’t want him to, but you knew he had work soon.

You nodded, waving at him as he left your house. “See you soon, Hitoshi.”

When the door closed shut behind him, you slumped a little. Tired and exhausted yet wishing you could see him soon. Though it might have been foolish, you couldn’t help but wish he was feeling the same.

Grabbing your phone on the coffee table, you unlocked it to check the time. You were about to shut it off and put it in your pocket when a notification bubble popped up on your screen.

“AirDrop: mememate would like to share a note,” it read, and a grin spread across your lips as you eagerly pressed accept.

The notepad application immediately opened up on your phone and you read the small message on the off-white display.

mememate: can’t wait for our date, y/n. p.s. i really really like you.

Letting out a surprised cry of joy, you held your phone to your chest, hugging it along with Hitoshi’s jacket he had left you.

From the other side of the door, Hitoshi had heard your scream and responded with a laugh of his own. A feeling of warmth in his heart as he placed his phone in his pocket and headed for his car. Thank goodness for AirDrop.

Your heart was pounding and your lips were still pulsing from the way he kissed you. Even as you got ready for bed and drifted off into a restful sleep, the silly smile never fell from your face.

You were grateful he came to get you at the nightclub, and you were grateful he was the recipient of your memes that day at the amusement park.

He made mistakes in the past and you were no saint either, but you had an opportunity to heal those wounds and be with Hitoshi again.

And you just couldn’t wait for your next date together.

a/n: AHHH THAT WAS A LOT,, pls let me know what you think! i know some readers never want to forgive shinsou at all and that’s okay, but i do think y/n forgives him and still really cares about him [and maybe l-words him? o.o] so i hope u support it 🥺 ilysm and thank you for reading! lmk ur thoughts !! xx

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collecting-stories · 3 years

Text

Cruel Summer - JJ Maybank

Request: hey!! could i request a fic where reader is a pogue and reader and jj have recently started a fwb relationship but they both start to fall for each other with out telling the other.  finally reader tells jj she can’t do it anymore and then a love confession please!! thank you i love your writing so much :)))

TS Anthology Series | Outer Banks Masterlist

_ . ◦ ⭐︎:*.☾.*:⭐︎◦∙._

The first time you slept with JJ was a party at the boneyard. It was technically in the back of the Twinkie while everyone else was down the beach, three sheets to the wind. You were drunk enough to think sleeping with your best friend was a good idea but sober enough to remember the experience the next day. 

While the initial shock of knowing that you’d had sex with your best friend, possibly altering the course of your friendship in the process, wasn’t easy, it was a welcomed relief that there were no messy feelings involved. There was no denying that JJ was attractive, you were a human with a pulse after all, but you weren’t secretly harboring a massive crush on him that had led to sex. It was just a matter of timing. You were both there, both in the mood, it just sort of made sense…in a weird way that you didn’t think too hard about. 

JJ was much more laid back than you were about the entire ordeal, even if neither of you were interested in each other. “Last night was fun, we should do it again.” 

And that was how it started, really. JJ’s suggestion, observation, whatever you called it in the moment, that you keep doing the thing you had done last night. Just as friends, just for fun. You were laidback and chill, or maybe you wanted to prove you were, so you agreed. It wasn’t like you were dating at the time. It wasn’t like you wanted to either. 

Everything always felt relaxed with JJ. Whether it was because he manufactured every single moment that way or because he was just organically that laidback on a regular basis, having sex with him just to have sex felt as bizarrely normal as meeting up for a surf or lunch. 

“I can’t believe you guys are sleeping together.” While most of the pogues knew and pretended they didn’t, Sarah was unable to shake the idea. She was the least inclined for casual sex and seemed determined to prove that it was impossible. At least, between the two of you. 

“Why?” You shrugged, sucking the last remnants of your slurpee from the bottom of your cup. The two of you had met up at the corner 7-11 and were making your way slowly down the beach to meet everyone else. “I get to have sex and it’s with someone I’m comfortable with who I trust totally…that’s not weird.” 

“So there are no feelings? At all?” She asked. 

“Well yeah, he’s my best friend and I love him but not like that…I’m not in love with him.” 

The adjunct onto the end of the sentence felt clunky and awkward. When Kiara had first found out, she’d asked if you guys were dating and JJ had answered, laughing, that “you know I’d never do that to you”. It was an ongoing joke amongst the pogues, simply because everyone else had always been convinced there was something there. Despite knowing there was nothing, you couldn’t help the twist in your stomach though you chalked it up to being caught on the couch in the porch at the Chateau. 

Now you had that feeling again and it wasn’t the slurpee or the heat. 

“What if he starts dating someone else?” She kept the probe going as you crossed over some vacationing families and spotted the other pogues already set up. 

“Well, we’re not dating so it doesn’t matter.” 

Your conversation with Sarah ended then but her words didn’t leave you, like an alarm that kept going off inside your head, just when you started to ease yourself into the afternoon JJ would do something that would set off the echo and you’d feel yourself pulling back. You’d always been affectionate with each other and maybe sleeping together, being so intimate, allowed for more affection to spill over into regular hang-outs. It wasn’t something you usually worried about but suddenly it felt like the only thing you could concentrate on. 

Maybe Sarah was right. Maybe you hadn’t liked him in the beginning but over the course of things, opening yourself up to someone you trusted and felt so comfortable with had turned into something more than friendship and you were just lagging behind, refusing to see it. You weren’t the only one in the relationship though and as soon as you had settled your own feelings you began to fret over JJ’s. Had he reached the same conclusion as you? Did he feel the same way and he just wasn’t telling you? 

He’d always been pretty upfront with his feelings. JJ was the one who wanted to keep this going in the first place, not at all shy in the proposition. Knowing that, you doubted he felt anything…he would’ve told you if did. And he hadn’t, so he didn’t. 

“Hey,” the cold glass of a beer bottled was pressed against your bare shoulder blade and you arched forward suddenly, trying and failing to get away from the sensation as droplets of water rolled down your skin. When you reached for the bottle it was removed, held above your head and you realized it was JJ behind you, grinning as a droplet of perspiration fell from the bottom ring and landed on your cheek. 

“Oh my god, JJ, that’s freezing cold.” You grumbled, “what the hell?” 

“What the hell is right,” he replied, though there wasn’t any edge to his voice, he was perfectly relaxed, “what’s up with you?”

“Nothing, why?”

“Cause you’ve been sitting over here all day.” Calling the last three hours all day was a gross overstatement of time but you knew what he meant. 

“What’s the problem with that?” You were being evasive. 

“You usually sit next to me.” He pouted. “Is something wrong?” 

You bit your bottom lip, dragging your teeth over your skin until you released it before attempting what you knew was an awkward smile. You had already pre-decided JJ’s feelings for him and were avoiding him to avoid  the conversation you were bound to have when he found out you had feelings for him. JJ had been pretty clear in the beginning, he just wanted something casual, where he didn’t need to live up to anyone’s expectation. 

“No,” you shook your head, looking down toward the shoreline where your other friends were jumping waves. You’d been so lost in your head you hadn’t even noticed they left and now you were trying to tell JJ that you were fine. 

“Are you sure?” He pushed, an obvious sign that he was sure you were lying to him. 

“I don’t think we should sleep together anymore.” You got the words out as quickly as possible, letting out a quiet huff after, avoiding JJ’s eyes. “It’s just…awkward and weird now and I didn’t think it would be but it is.” 

“Oh,” JJ slipped his hat off, bending the bill in his fist as he tried to process your words, a last ditch effort to save face, “well I’ve never had anyone describe me as awkward during sex-“

“JJ,” you laughed in spite of yourself, nudging him with your elbow, “I just...” pogues never lied to each other, they were always honest, it was like the holy grail of rules amongst your friend group. “We agreed when we started this that it was no strings attached, ya know? Just two friends hooking up.”

“Yeah, so?”

You shrugged your shoulder, leaning into it as if you could burrow your head back into yourself somehow, “so...that’s not me anymore. I don’t feel like I wanna be just friends hooking up anymore. In the beginning, it was easy...but. But I really like you, like a lot. And I don’t wanna just be your friend, waiting for you to cut this off for someone else.”

There was a beat between you, when both of you were just staring straight ahead at your friends playing out by the waves. This wasn’t the light-hearted conversation that JJ had walked over here for. This felt heavy, it felt like it could change everything between the two of you, if sleeping together hadn’t already done that.

“Maybe I want that too.” JJ finally said, adding, “No, not maybe...I do want that too.”

“What? Are you serious?” You hated sounding so surprised when you were always so sure you knew JJ better than anyone.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve thought of this as a friends with benefits thing...I’ll be honest, I’m not really sure I ever did.” JJ replied, “good to know my undeniable charm worked on you.”

“Your undeniable charm?” You laughed, turning away from the ocean to look at him.

“How is that so hard to believe?” JJ hooked his arm around your shoulders, bringing himself a little closer to you so he could lean in, pressing his forehead to yours, “we could get outta here and celebrate?”

“Do people celebrate dating?” You asked, setting your mouth in a line and narrowing your eyes as if you were truly contemplating the question.

“What are you celebrating?” Kiara’s voice sounded and JJ broke away in surprise, cursing at her under his breath. “Are you guys ditching us to have sex? Again.”

“No-”

“Yes-”

You and JJ answered respectively and you elbowed JJ again, “we aren’t leaving. We’re coming down to join you...oh, did you know JJ has undeniable charm?”

Kiara looked him up and down skeptically, “this JJ?”

“You guys are dicks!” He huffed, getting up off the towel and following you down toward the ocean. He grabbed your hand when he got close enough and you paused for a second so the two of you could walk side by side.

“You know my parents are visiting my grandma on the mainland tonight,” you mentioned, “we’ll have plenty of time to ‘celebrate’ then.”

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raineydays411 · 4 years

Text

Oh what am I supposed to do without you?

The reunion

Loki x daughter reader

Masterlist

Y/n POV

In an other room, Frigga was helping you with the gowns and your hair.

“Oh this color is lovely on you” she said, fixing the skirt of the gown.

It was a beautiful dress, light pink and flowy. It was a long sleeve and off the shoulder, the sleeves wide and as flowy as the dress. The bodice was covered in blush covered flowers. It went down to your feet where it dragged lightly on the floor. Your feet covered by beautiful golden sandals. Your hair was put in an updo, gold hair accessories intertwined.

You felt like a princess.

You turned to Frigga, “ I can’t thank you enough for how kind you’ve been to me.”

She stays quiet for a moment, a small smile on her face. “ my dear, you may not know it, but you are practically family.”

You look at her with a bewildered expression. She continues on

“ you know, in that gown, you look almost identical to your mother.”

You freeze, looking up at her, “ You..you knew my mother?”

“ Oh yes,” she smiles as memories cross her mind, “ very well, in fact, I remember helping your mother with this exact dress the day she arrived here as well.”

“You mean...this dress was hers?”

“Mmhmm, it fits you perfectly too. It was meant for you.”

You smile, tears welling in your eyes as you turn to the mirror. You could imagine your mother in the exact spot, fretting over her hair or the many layers on this dress.

“ I...I think I’ve learned more about my mother now than I ever had in my life.” You mutter, looking down and playing with a loos thread on your sleeve.

“Well, did you know that your mother loved to read?” Frigga says, “ any chance she got, she had her nose in a book. There were times Lo-“ she stops herself.

You look towards her, waiting for her to continue her story. She shakes her head and sighs.

“There were many times we had to go find her and drag her to the dining halls to eat because she was hiding somewhere reading.”

You laugh, relating to the story.

“ I can’t tell you how many times Tony had to come get me cause I almost skipped dinner by reading.”

“Tony?” She asks, unfamiliar with the name

“Oh! He’s like.. kinda like my dad/ uncle. He and the avengers raised me”

“ Ah I see.” Frigga says, her tone sad. Then a knock on the door cut through the conversation. It opened to reveal Thor, he was fidgeting with a book so he wasn’t looking up when he walked in the room.

“ I apologize for interrupting Moonlight, but I have a gift for you and I think you would like...” He trails off as he looks up at you. His heart clenches as he realizes what you’re wearing.

“ Thor, it’s improper for a man to barge into a young ladies room.” Frigga scolds from her place beside you.

“ My apologies...Y/n, you look..you look beautiful” he smiles sadly, thoughts of his best friend flooding his brain.

He, like his mother and almost everyone else that knew her, pushed those memories deep down. They had to, or else they would have never moved on. But..she was a big part of their lives. Loki never realized how much his family cared for his wife. It’s the original reason why Thor couldn’t bear getting rid of you completely. He couldn’t, not when you were the last piece of his best friend. So he took you somewhere he could see you. See you grow, live. Did it hurt him when he realized you were an exact carbon copy of your mother? Yes, but standing here, seeing you in her clothes, smiling and happy made it all worth it.

“ Hey Uncle Thor, look! I look like a princess!” You shout, twirling around the room with a large smile on your face.

Frigga and Thor share a look. He then realized that his mother felt the exact same way he did. Only, she didn’t get to see you grow up. Abd her only grandchild, has no idea who she truly is.

“ Oh dear princess moonlight!” Thor says dramatically, “ Pls except the gifts I bear to you!” He reveals the book and a beautiful necklace.

“ Thor...where did you get that book?” Frigga says lowly, recognizing the journal and who it belonged to.

“ Ahh, I may have borrowed it from my brother..” he say nervously

“ Thor!”

“ Mother he will not notice, besides where did you get that dress from?” He shot back a playful smile on his face. Frigga just says and rolls her eyes.

“ Hey..this journal belonged to..” you start to say the name.

“Yes!” Thor said quickly cutting you off, “ it did belong to your mother. When...when she found out she was pregnant with you, she decided that she would write as much about her life as she could...in case..”

“ in case she didn’t make it.” Frigga finished, looking down briefly.

You took the book in your hands, tracing the carvings on the cover. “ So...she’s...”

Thor looks up, realizing he never did make it clear on whether your parents were alive or not.

“ Yes..your mother passed” he said, “ I am truly sorry I never told you y/n..I just..” he sighs “ I was being selfish.. I didn’t want to relive that moment.”

You stay quiet. You don’t know what to think. Deep down you had the feeling that she wasn’t alive, from the little bits that Thor told you, she wasn’t the kind of person that gave away her children. But hearing it be confirmed, it hurt. Knowing your uncle was keeping it and many other things a secret hurt as well, but you understood. You saw the pain in his eyes as he told you stories of your mother and the pain now. You wonder...

“I understand why you didn’t tell me, don’t worry about it” you say, flashing a smile at him, the squeezing Frigga's hand. “ Are we going to eat? Cause I’m starving!”

Frigga laughs,” Supper will be served in an hour, I trust you can hold out till then?”

“ Yes ma'am! Do you mind if I explore the grounds then? I think my curiosity is getting the best of me”

That’s when Frigga realized that you may look like your mother and sometimes it’s terrifying how similar you act, but you were your own person. Your mother...she was never the adventurous woman. She read about them, but never felt the urge to go out and explore. You, you seem curious about the world around you.

“ Of course! But I beg of you, please don’t get your gown dirty.”

“ cross my heart” you say with a smile.

“Y/n” Thor says with a warning tone, “ I know how you are when you get bored at Tony's galas.”

“Uncle Thor, I promise! Besides, this dress is wayy too nice to mess up”

He looks you in the eye for a bit then smiles, “well alright then, go on”

You smile, then grab a shoulder bag that was laying around the room and put the book inside and your phone (that surprisingly still worked). Then you skipped out the room, an adventurous look in your eyes.

Frigga sighed, “ Thor... why did you bring her here?

“She has powers. Ice powers.”

Frigga's eyes widened, “ What do you mean?”

“On her birthday, she wasn’t feeling well, she was cold all day. And when she was put under stress, she turned a light blue and shot snow out of her hands.”

Silence takes over the room.

“We must take her to see Odin”

“I know.”

“We have to tell her who her parents are.”

This time Thor sighs. “I know.”

“Do you think that will be the only power she’ll possess?”

“Who can tell, we don’t know much about her mothers side of the family. But she was powerful, even if she didn’t show it. And Loki...”

Another silence filled the room.

“ Do you think she might run into Loki?”

“No, I told him royalty was coming to visit, there’s no way he’d leave his room.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Loki POV

Loki left his room.

He felt as if something was off. There was a presence in the palace that he hasn’t felt in...years.

He decides to go find his mother, she would most likely know what’s going on. Plus, he hasn’t seen her since the morning.

So, even though every part of his being does not want to encounter the visiting royalty Thor spoke of, he left the room.

As he walked through the hallways, he noticed the atmosphere felt...happy. The servants were bustling and smiling, something that was rare now. As he passed by, they stopped chattering and stared at him. Which was slightly unusual, but he brushed it off at first. It was when he heard the name ��y/n” whispered a little too loudly.

He turned to glare at the woman who dared to utter the name when a body bumped into him.

“Sorry mister!” then in a flurry of brown, pink, and gold the person was gone.

Loki was frozen on the spot. He could’ve sworn that...

“No” He thought, “ Its impossible”

Then he shook his head and kept walking, determined to find his mother. But as he walked, he couldn’t help but feel as if he didn’t know something everyone else knew.

He finally found his mother and Thor, in a guest room of all places.

“Mother.” Loki said, “I have been looking for you everywhere.”

“No way he’d leave his room Thor?” She muttered to Thor as he paled.

“Loki! It’s wonderful to see you out. What was it that you needed?” She said with a smile.

“Is it me, or are the servants acting strange?” He asks, “ I heard them talking about..”

Thor holds his breath, even though he knows what his brother is about to say.

“About Y/n”

Frigga sighs, looking at her sons,” Thor, you have to tell him.”

“Mother..” “Tell me what?”

“He has a right to know.”

“Of course he does, I just worry about-”

“It’s better to do it now than when she’s in the room, or have him figure it out on his own”

“What are you two talking about?”

Thor looks over to Loki and sighs.

“Brother, perhaps you should sit down.”

Loki, not understanding what going on was about to argue, but then he saw the look on his mothers face. so he sat on the bed.

That’s when he noticed the a bag on the floor.

It was a beige bag that had footsteps all over it and the words “Marauders map” on it.

“That is a Midgardian bag.” Loki states, “ Harry something, is it not?”

Thor freezes looking at the bag you had left on the floor

“Yes...That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Well, go on.”

“Loki...Brother...remember that night sixteen years ago-”

“I do not want to talk about it, I have told you this time and time again!” Loki shouts as he stands up from the bed, starting to walk to the door.

“Damnit Loki! Sit down and listen to me!” Thor shouts, surprising both Frigga and Loki. “I am tired of lying to her because you were too cowardly to raise her on your own! You will listen to me now.”

Loki squints at his brother, "What are you talking about?”

“Your daughter Loki. Y/n.”

“Thor..”

“NO, for sixteen years, she has been raised by me and the Avengers. And now she has shown that she has powers. Ice powers to be more specific.”

Loki’s eyes widen at the information. He knew that it was Thor who ultimately got rid of the girl. But that's all he knew, all he cared to know. Now he’s finding out that Thor and his...band of Midgardian friends have been raising her. On top of that, she seems to have inherited his Jotunheim blood.

“Why are you telling me this...” Thor stays silent.

“Thor.” Loki says, “Who’s bag is that?”

“Loki...” Thor says softly, “ I think you know who it belongs to.”

“She’s here?” Loki asks emotions not showing.

“Yes, but Loki she has no idea who you are.”

“Good. I want nothing to do with that...that--”

“Careful how you speak of her brother. Remember, I am the one who raised her.”

“Then I am certain she has no redeeming qualities.” Loki deadpans.

“You do not know anything about her” Thor argues back, “ If I had it my way, you would.t have known she was here until she was gone.”

“Well, I am glad we can agree on something.”

“You-”

“That’s enough. Both of you.” Frigga finally says, silencing the men.” Now Loki, I have kept quiet about the decisions you made and continue to make. But enough is enough. That child has had to grow up without knowing her parents and heritage. I for one, intend for her to learn it, with or without you.” She sighs looking at her son.

“You have suffered a terrible loss, not only your wife, but the chance to have raised that beautiful child.” And with that, Frigga left the room.

There was a beat of silence, then Loki spoke

“So, she was with you then?”

“Yes.” Thor said simply, “ She doesn’t know about you or her mother...well she doesn’t know anything about you.”

“So you told her about-”

“Bits and pieces. It is kind of hard to explain that her father sent her away because her mother died giving birth to her.”

“She should know. Know how she killed her--”

“She did no such thing. Loki she was an infant.”

“It doesn't matter, my wife is gone because of her.”

That’s when Thor exploded.

“YOUR WIFE KNEW SHE WAS GOING TO DIE.”

“wha..what are you talking about?”

“She knew brother. She didn’t tell you but she knew.”

“I don’t understand, why would she..”

“Because, she loved that child. She loved Y/n”

Loki tears up at the thought. The whole time, the whole pregnancy, she knew. She knew she was going to leave him. That he would mourn her. But she carried on anyway. That's why she wrote in that damn book all the time.

***Flash back****

“My love, why, pray tell are you writing in that book again?”

A smile forms on her face, "Because darling, I want our child to know how much it is loved by their mother. How anxiously I await their arrival.”

Loki smiles, not understanding his wifes antics, “Well in that case, make it known how much they are loved by their father.”

***

Loki stands and walks out of the room.

“Where are you going?” Thor shouts at his brothers back.

“I need to be alone. Don’t worry, the child will not be harmed.”

And with that, Loki disappeared.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/ns POV

During your exploration of the castle, you ran into some of the staff. After many apologies, you managed to introduce yourself. But it seems that the particular woman you ran into knew who you were. It was weird but added to your theory.

She directed you to the garden, saying that it was the largest in all of Asgard, so of course you had to check it out.

So there you were. You were surprised to find that it was actually pretty large. You walked around, taking in the scenery and all the plants that didn’t exist on earth. You took pictures for Tony and Bucky, they’re probably worried sick.

After a while, you got bored and decided to find a place to sit, you wanted to read that journal Thor gave you. So you found a quiet spot, it was tucked away behind some trees but it was perfect. A small gazebo, covered in wilting flowers. It was old, chipped paint came off when you put your hand on it. It creaked when you sat down on the wooden bench.

That's when you noticed it. The letter L and another that was too faded to tell. You shrugged it off, digging in the bag for the journal, your headphones and the pastry you stole from the kitchens earlier. You settled in, playing some music and started reading. You got two pages in when your favorite song came on. Unable to resist, you started singing along.

Getting lost in the music, you didn’t notice that the flowers started to perk up. The color started to come back and they blossomed. The gazebo itself looked as if it was freshly painted.

Like magic.

Your singing caught the attention of another who came to the garden to be alone.

“What are you doing here?”

You jump, ice shooting out of your hands

The person dodged it, but looked at you in surprise.

“Y/n” They whispered. That’s when you recognized him.

“Oh hey, I bumped into you earlier huh?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

General POV

Loki was speechless. At first when he heard the singing, he thought someone was trespassing. Everyone knew they weren’t supposed to go anywhere near the gazebo. That was her favorite spot.

So, he marched over, about to yell at the figure that dared to be in the space he and his beloved used to enjoy. That's when you turned around.

He thought he was seeing a ghost at first. That he had died and his beloved was waiting for him. But then he realized that this person shot ice out of their hand. And that’s when it hit him.

“y/n’

“Oh hey, i bumped into you earlier huh?”

Loki stayed quiet, still looking over your features. Realizing that the baby he sent away was now a teenager and had no idea who he was.he didn’t know what to say to you. How to explain that even though he could have raised you, he decided to selfishly sent you way. That the very sight of you had enraged him so much that he couldn’t bear to look in your eyes.

Emotions flooded his body as he looked at you. Remebering how excited he was to be a father. To raise a child with his true love.How he felt the night she died, before she could even hold you in her arms.

Then he spoke, “You..you look so much like your mother...”

Then he broke down, crying as you ran to his side, wondering who this man was, and how he knew your mother.

#loki x daughter!reader #loki x teen!reader #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #thor odison x reader #thor x reader #Loki x poc!reader #thor odinson #avengers x teen!reader #marvel x reader #marvel #angst #poc reader

1K notes · View notes

misterdowding · 2 years

Text

The opera house is a wonderful place to immerse yourself in music and drama. Singer Rachel Clarke has dazzled audiences for years and is said to be retiring. Tragic. It does seem the young, unmarried woman will be expecting a child soon. Her cruel glances at Mr. Thomas Dowding beg the question of whether his powerful words enchanted this singer and left her with something to remember him by. Poets are known for their dalliances. Could it be a coincidence?

Thomas had always been firm in the belief that gossip columns were poison to one’s mind, to one’s soul. There was nothing in them worth reading, no poetry, no heart, only cruelty. It was no surprise to his mother that when he returned home from promenading, he hadn’t the slightest idea what was going on.

“Is it true?” She asked, rising from her seat and crossing over toward him, shoving the paper against his chest with a huff and a furious glance.

“Whatever do you mean?” He asked, calm as he set his hat delicately upon the side table and strode across the room to an armchair. His mother watched him with an imperious look as he leaned back, crossed his legs, and at last cast his gaze down upon the sheet. His brows slowly rose on his forehead, lips parting as the words came to life before his eyes. “It can’t be,” he murmured.

His mother let out a long sigh of relief. “You need to get this straightened out, then.”

“No, I - Forgive me, mother, I misspoke.” It was not something that he often did and he pursed his lips together, rereading the paragraph once more. “It can be, I suppose.”

“Thomas!”

“But it might not! I must speak with her,” he stood, folded the paper and stuck it deep into his pocket. “Do not fret, Mother. Whatever the case may be, it will be fine.” His mother drew in a harsh breath, ready to spew out a few reprimands but Thomas kissed her cheek and left before she could.

* . °•☆•°∵ ∵°•☆•° . *

He burst into the opera house, thirty minutes before the matinee showing. He made his way straight for the stage, stopped by one of the workers. “Excuse me, sir, you must find your seat, only actors and friends may go back there.”

“I’m a friend.” Not quite true, after what happened, but more a friend than a patron in this instance, Thomas thought.

“Of whom?”

“Miss Clarke. Tell her it’s Mister Dowding, she’ll want to see me.”

The usher gave him a strange look and then turned to go backstage, allowing Thomas to follow from behind. It was not long before he found himself in the dressing room, a familiar enough room one month ago when he and Rachel were still enjoying one another. “Miss Clarke,” the usher said, causing her to turn and immediately catch Thomas’s eye.

“You!” She exclaimed, rising from her seat like a lioness preparing to pounce. “How dare you- That’s very well, no Mister Reid, you may go. Yes, I’m fine, please go.” The usher left and the moment they were alone, Rachel turned her full attention back on Thomas. “You have some nerve showing up in my dressing room after what you did.”

“That’s just the thing!” Thomas interrupted, eyes wide, expression so innocent one might wonder if he really had abandoned her as cruelly as they both knew he had. “I don’t know. Is it true?” he pulled out the paper and held it out to her. “Are you with child? Is it mine?”

Rachel stared at him, eyes firm, resolve unwavering. “That’s the only reason you’re here?”

Thomas blinked at her, slowly nodded his head. “Yes.” He pursed his lips, drew in a breath. “Is there another reason I should have come?”

Rachel scoffed and took a step back from him, casting him a look of utter disgust and outrage. “How did I ever fall for it? Those words, that- that face! You look so kind, so genuine, you speak so softly and yet. . .”

“Rachel, I do not know of what you speak. Our affair ran its course, you were bored with me too, you cannot tell me you weren’t.”

“That’s why you left me on my birthday? Because I was bored? You told me you loved me, you said you wanted to take me to Rome!”

“I still can if that’s the problem, Rachel! I did love you, for a spell but you must know every story meets its conclusion. All of the good ones have an ending-”

Rachel barked out a bitter laugh and placed her hand over her stomach, clenched her jaw. She looked past Thomas, staring beyond him at the velvet curtains. “I must perform now.”

“But you will tell me first if it is true!” Thomas said, stepping between her and the exit.

Rachel smiled and shrugged. “It’s yours. Now if you’ll excuse me, I will only be able to perform a few more shows before I retire. You won’t ruin my last performances, will you?”

Thomas shook his head, incredulous. “You’ll speak with me after?”

“Of course. A gentleman like you, you must have at least a small shred of honor to help fund the child’s upbringing. You do remember my address? Send what you will, or perhaps I can organize it with your mother, she comes to your box quite often, of course. Excuse me.” She passed him a sour smile as she departed for the stage, leaving Thomas frozen in place.

#self para;;

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 4 years

Text

Fools in Love

Summary: He can explain how String Theory works. He can figure out Riemann Hypothesis. He can recite all the numbers of pi until he’s blue in the face. Yet somehow, Spencer Reid can’t figure out what to do for his first first anniversary.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Warnings: Spencer Reid is a self-deprecating mf, Jane Austen quotes? But there’s a happy ending

Word Count: 3128

Fools in Love

He scratches the back of neck, a nervous habit that he’s sure makes him look weak. He wants to find the perfect recipe to make a wonderful meal for Y/N. It’s his first first anniversary so Spencer’s completely lost as to what to do. Y/N deserves the most romantic dinner, especially considering how much chaos he causes. It must be a lot to put up with him, Spencer thinks. He’s even more useless when it comes to love than when it comes to cooking. While he might not be a fan of technology, given he has the Thai place down the street from his apartment on speed dial. She doesn’t deserve some take out Thai with paper plates. But he’s a scientist, a well-known and well-educated scientist who is completely failing at planning his first anniversary.

It was useless. Completely and utterly useless, Spencer thought to himself as he ran his fingers across the various titles of cookbooks. Some featured complex dishes from Korea and others were 30 minute meals of the vaguely Midwest variety. Spencer never in his entire 33 years of living felt so out of place in a library. He’s so at home in between the stacks of books, he finds the comforting words of long dead authors and intricate mathematical theories a second home. However, it seems that Spencer Reid has found the most intimidating section of the library: cooking.

And what do academics do when they are at a crossroad? Well, they call in the experts. The love expert came in the shape of Agent Derek Morgan himself. This idea just might be the most brilliant thought Spencer’s had or the dumbest, but Y/N is worth it.

Okay, maybe it was a mistake to come to Derek, Spencer thinks as he sits in front of his friend, a coffee in his hand and an expression of pure fear on his face.

“You want me to, what?” Spencer asks, shocked at Derek’s suggestive advice.

“Lie in bed naked, call Y/N on the phone and make something up. You’ll be waiting in bed and then BAM! Anniversary sex,” Derek says, his eyebrows wagging as he sips his coffee.

“Are you messing with me, Morgan?” Spencer says, his face pale from the very thought of lounging in bed naked, waiting for Y/N to come over to his apartment.

“Why not, I’m sure it would get you laid,” Derek reasons. Get me laid? Spencer and Y/N don’t get laid, he thinks. They do have sex, but it’s not getting laid. It’s more romantic and loving than just whatever Derek suggests.

God, he can’t tell Derek that, he’d never live it down.

“You have slept with Y/N, right?” Derek asks, suddenly nervous that he touched a nerve with his friend. As much as he likes to tease, Spencer knows that Derek doesn’t mean any harm, hence why he’s the first person he thought to come to.

“We prefer to call it making love,” Spencer says, pretending to be very interested in his chocolate donut and trying to fight off the blush that rises to his cheeks. Even a year into their relationship, Spencer still gets butterflies at thinking about Y/N like that.

“So you want this to be more romantic than just fucking, because you’ve done it for a year?” Derek proposes as simply as if he’s talking about a case. Not that talking about serial victims is anymore normal or weirder than the current conversation.

“Morgan and you please stop talking about Y/N and sex in the same sentence?” Spencer says through gritted teeth.

“Reid, kid. I’m just busting your chops, I know who you feel about Y/N. When you two are in the same room, it’s like there’s no one else in the world. And it’s kinda hard to get your mind to focus on one thing, but Y/N does that,”

“I know,” Spencer says. “I can’t mess this up Derek. I can’t give another person a reason to leave me,”

“Y/N won’t leave because you can’t plan a terrible anniversary dinner,” Derek says comfortingly.

“I checked out 7 cookbooks, Morgan. 7, and I read them on the metro home. It’s useless, I’m useless,” Spencer laments.

He looks up to try to read Derek’s expression. The last thing he’d want to see on his face is pity or worse laughter. No, Spencer. Derek is your best friend. He’s the closest thing you have to a brother. Spencer feels almost guilty for thinking that Derek would laugh at him, while he might like to tease him, especially about his lovelife, they trust each other inexplicably. What’s written on Derek’s face is not pity or ridicule, it’s a smile. A smile not for Spencer, but for the colorful woman walking towards their table.

“You told Garcia?” Spencer groans, but scooting over so Penelope would have a spot to sit with them.

“Of course I told Garcia, kid. You know better than anyone that we can’t keep anything secret,” Derek explains, leaning in to kiss Garcia’s hand.

“Spencer Reid! I can’t believe you,” Garcia says, smacking Spencer’s arm lightly.

“Garcia!” Spencer shouts, clutching his coffee and hunching down in his seat to avoid being hit by the tech goddess with her hard rings on her surprisingly strong hands.

“Don’t Garcia me, Reid. You need me, whether or not you realize it or not. I’m irreplaceable,” she tells him, grabbing a pink notebook and a fluffy green pen from her bag.

Spencer nods in understanding, as much as he hates it, he knows that he needs help. It’s just a hard pill to swallow when help comes in the form of Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia, perhaps the two people on Earth who are the most in love.

“I know I need you guys,” Spencer says, looking from Garcia to Derek, half expecting them to tell him to order some terrifying sex toy from a scretchy store on the edge of town or something equally horrifying.

“What’s something that she likes? You know like a special thing that Y/N would never think about getting herself” Garcia asks, making notes with the fluffy when that bounces as she writes.

“She likes to read,” Spencer suggests, thinking about the first date that they had. They talked for hours about their favorite books and ended up getting booted from the library for overstaying their welcome. Y/N found it quite endearing that The Little Prince is Spencer’s while her is anything and everything by Jane Austen. He thinks back to her eyes gleamed when talking about the book, or how passionate she got when she argued that Mr Knightley and Emma were soulmates.

“Okay, that’s a start Spencer. Really good,” Garcia says, trying to boost her friend’s confidence.

“What else?” Derek asks, thinking about the times when he and Y/N hang out with Spencer and Penelope.

“Fret not, Boy Wonder,” Garcia says, softly patting Spencer’s shoulder, “I’ll take care of this,” she finishes as she reaches into her bag, that seems to have a never ending bottom, and pulls out a laptop.

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“So Garcia and Morgan took over your anniversary plans and basically just made it how they’d want to spend their anniversary?” JJ offers, as she hands Spencer a beer from her refrigerator and sits back down at her kitchen table.

Spencer takes a swig of his beer and shrugs his shoulders, thinking about how wrong this whole anniversary dinner has gone.

“I just wanted this to be special, JJ. I know it’s only been a year, but Y/N is it for me. God, she was it for me on the third date,” Spencer confesses.

“I know, Spence. I’ve never seen you this happy. Happiness looks good on you,” JJ tells him.

“Y/N makes me happy, she puts up with me, so the least I can do is make this perfect for her,”

“Spence, don’t sell yourself short,” JJ says, “You’re a kind man and a wonderful boyfriend, you’re both lucky to have each other,”

“Thank you, JJ, but Y/N is the better person in this relationship. That’s why this needs to be perfect,” Spencer explains, his self doubt still littering his mind.

“What about a baseball game? You can pay for a message to pop up on the Jumbotron. Like Happy Anniversary, Y/N,” JJ suggests, and Spencer really can’t tell if JJ is joking. She can’t possibly think that Y/N and he would have a romantic anniversary with the threat of getting pelted in the face with a baseball.

“Sports games are not our forte, JJ. I honestly can’t tell who’d hate sitting in the sun for hours with angry sports fans,” Spencer adds.

“Okay so no sports, I should have figured, Spence,” JJ winks knowingly. “How about this, think about somewhere that’s special to you two. Somewhere that makes you think of her,”

“The thing is JJ, everyplace we’ve been together makes me think of her. The elevator when she first kissed me, the movie theater we always go to on Saturday nights, even the sidewalk outside my apartment building. Everything makes me think of her because she’s my everything,” Spencer says, hiding his discomfort at the conversation.

“Spence, I think that anything you plan, will be wonderful. Have a little trust in yourself for once, Y/N is already head over heels in love with you, so I doubt that she’d really care where you go or what you do,” JJ advises, clearing up the dirty dishes from their Friday night pizza dinner with the boys.

“I’m going to go JJ, thanks for talking me out of my head. If I took Morgan’s advice, I’d probably end up with a restraining order,” Spencer jokes, putting his jacket on and saying goodbye to his friend.

“You think you need an Uber?” JJ asks, but immediately finds amusement from Spencer’s disgust at the idea of getting into an Uber.

“Germs and technology sound like a nightmare, JJ. And I’m not going to remind you of the statistics regarding missing persons and those rideshare apps-” Spencer offers, but is cut off by JJ’s pretend annoyance.

“Remind me to send Y/N combat pay, you know maybe she is a saint for putting up with you,” JJ teases.

He walks out into the chill of the night, recounting the advice his friends gave him. Derek and Penelope’s plan was a little outlandish, a little too much for Spencer and Y/N. JJ, who Spencer knows means well, only served to remind him of how hard it must be with him. His steps are slow and languid, but his mind anything but.

One step, you’re probably just a charity case that Y/N decided to save.

Two steps, why on Earth would a woman like her even look at a man like you.

Three steps, you’re so pathetic that you can’t even plan a dinner for her. She’s too good for Spencer, you’ll ruin her.

Everyone who you love leaves you or dies, anyway.

It’s that thought, not the thought of being alone, but the thought that he deserves to be alone that sends the tears down his cheeks.

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Somehow, someway, Spencer made it back to his apartment. It never felt so dark, so unlike home. Maybe he just didn’t never realized that these walls aren’t home without Y/N. He really should try to get to sleep, but he’d rather fend off sleep with the endless supply of coffee than have to face a night alone in the cold bed.

Just as Spencer makes his way to prepare a cup of coffee, he hears a distant jiggle of keys and the door knob rattle. And in comes Y/N, as fresh as the cup of coffee brewing and as beautiful as ever.

“Happy Anniversary, my love,” Y/N tells him, dropping the bags on the floor. She moves over to him like a light breeze. All he wants is to welcome her embrace. He wants to scoop her up and carry her far away from the monsters that lie in wake. He feels an urge to be her protector, but how can be her protector when what he really wants is to be protected.

“Y/N, what are you doing here, it’s so late,” Spencer says, praying that his voice doesn’t let go. He knows it’s futile, one look from Y/N, her palm to his cheek or even worse a chaste kiss on his forehead, Spencer would not be able to think. What is a genius without his mind?

“I couldn’t wait for tomorrow, Spence, I just missed you too much,” Y/N says, her voice a prayer that spins around in Spencer’s brain, searching for refuge in his heart.

“You really missed me?” Spencer asks, desperately wanting to believe her beyond belief. Y/N’s frown searches for an answer in Spencer’s distant expression. Even though they stand there with the kitchen light casting shadows touching as much skin as they can reach, Spencer is a million miles away.

“Of course I missed you, baby. And I just had to give you one of your gifts tonight. I just couldn’t wait to see your face,” Y/N says, practically bouncing as she bounds off to get the package for Spencer.

“So this is only the first part, and stay with me, I know how much you hate technology, but I think you’ll make an excuse for this,” She tells him, handing him a heavy cube shaped package. It’s decorated in Y/N’s handwritten flowers and hearts, and a cute doodle of who Spencer can only assume is them. His girlfriend may not be artistic. But she’s the artist who paints the stars in Spencer’s night sky. She’s the tailor who sewed him back up when he was broken. She’s the architect who has the key and blueprint to his heart.

Spencer opens the gift, his hands shaky and unsure. He’s terrified that Y/N can see right though him. He reveals the present. It’s a small wooden box with a red wooden heart that looks like it’s supposed to be pixelated. There’s a blank space on the top, that Spencer supposes is a screen.

“You gotta plug it in, Spence. So the messages can pop up. When you're far away from me saving the world, I can type a message from my phone and it’ll appear on your box,” she explains. Spencer looks up at her trying to search for what he did to get this lucky.

“Thank you, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Spencer tells her, placing a kiss against her forehead. It’s the kind of kisses that tell you so much more. It’s the kind of kiss you give when you know there’s more where that one came from. It’s safe and warm and everything good about this world.

“I gotta make sure you won’t forget me when you go traipsing all over the country. A hot genius like you only comes around so often. I’m sure you got loads of attractive people throwing themselves at you, Spence,” she says with a wink.

“Hot genius?” Spencer repeats half dumbfounded and half joking.

“Yup, I gotta make sure they know that you’re spoken for,”

“I couldn’t forget you even if I tried, Y/N. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me. I still don’t know what I did to ever deserve you,” Spencer says, as the tears and the fears of not being good enough bubble to the surface.

“Spencer, baby. You’re shaking. What’s the matter? Huh,” she says softly, brushing her hand over Spencer’s head in a comforting and loving gesture.

Spencer leans into her, his head pressed into her neck. He can hear her heartbeat and he can smell her perfume. He wants to get lost in her. Get lost in the feeling of total and complete love.

“I just wanted this to be perfect, Y/N. For you- you deserve so much more than I can give. It must be so hard dating me. I know that I’m difficult to love sometimes,” Spencer murmurs, his tears pouring down his cheeks and spilling like his darkest thoughts onto Y/N’s shirt.

“Spencer, you make my life so much brighter. So much fuller. I know that you got a lot going on up in that mind of yours and it must be kinda scary. It must be hard always being the guy people expect answers from. But I got you, sweetheart. And I’m not letting go,” Y/N tells him the words falling from lips like a psalm and taking on a new life in Spencer’s heart.

“Thank you, Y/N. I really wanted this to be the best anniversary. I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” Spencer apologizes as he peppers light, feathery kisses along her collarbone and up to her eyes.

“Well you’re my mess, Spencer. Let’s be honest, I’d be completely happy to spend our anniversary anywhere with you. Except maybe sports games, that sounds like torture for both of us,” Y/N laughs and Spencer can’t get over how she practically glows in the kitchen light. It could be that his mind is foggy with love, but Spencer hopes that he never grows out of this blissful feeling.

“Well it’s a good thing we’ll have many more to make up for this one,” Spencer says, letting himself get dragged to the large fluffy sofa.

“Oh no, Mister. The next 50 anniversaries have to try to top this one,” Y/N tells him and Spencer’s heart skips and flutters at the thought of having another 49 anniversaries with Y/N by his side.

“I doubt that 50 will be enough, Y/N”

“As long as you’ll allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” Y/N says, cuddling so close to Spencer that she can’t see where her limbs start and Spencer’s end.

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more,” Spencer says running his spidery fingers down Y/N’s side much to her delight.

“Ooh are you trying out some Jane Austen foreplay? Because that’s the way to make my panties drop,” Y/N says suggestively as she rubs her hand over Spencer’s chest and rests it on his neck.

“Maybe tomorrow, I just really want to hold you close right now, Y/N.” Spencer says, sweetly kissing along her temple exciting a bout of giggles from the two of them.

Spencer very well might be useless when it comes to love, but he was eager to learn that he’s worthy of love from his love expert.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fics #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader

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aminiatureworld · 4 years

Text

Time and Chance

Characters: Albedo, Childe, Diluc, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,028

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Confessions are tricky things. Sometimes it takes week, maybe months, maybe years of building up courage for one to happen. And sometimes life throws the oddest wrenches in our paths.

In which the reader confesses.

Author’s Note: I may or may not have decided to go full sappy this week, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you guys with my overbearing angst. Also I thought it was cute. Originally I wasn’t sure if I wanted the reader to be the one doing the confessing or whether it should be the character. I decided upon the reader on a whim essentially, with the idea that I could do the character later. We’ll see! The title today is reference to one of my favorite novels, written by Sharon Kay Penman. If anyone likes historical fiction I’d highly recommend it.

Today’s characters are Albedo, Childe, and Diluc. Tomorrow will be Kaeya, Xiao, and Zhongli. And maybe Keqing.

Like I said in my past post Happy Valentine’s Day! Although this time it’s Valentine’s Day proper.

Albedo

In your defense, who wouldn’t fall in love with Albedo?

The mysterious alchemist of Monstadt; sharp as a tack, insatiably curious, and blessed with an ethereal sort of beauty on top of it. Who wouldn’t fall in love with such a person?

And that was the problem. You’d sort of taken it for granted that everyone loved Albedo, and in that assumption you’d found a particularly distasteful discovery. That if everyone loved Albedo then you were hardly going to be the only one asking after his time. And, following that line of thought, you figured it’d be incredibly rude – not to mention supremely irritating for Albedo – for you to confess your feelings.

And it wasn’t as if you two were the closest in the world. Although you wouldn’t say you were total strangers either. You instead drifted in that odd in between; more than acquaintances, not quite friends. Or at least that’s how you interpreted it. Albedo didn’t seem to be the person with inclinations towards friendship in general, a not altogether untrue or wild assumption, so you remained content where you were, happy with the conversations you had, with the times he’d trust you with a piece of equipment or would explain to you in detail what he was working on. I mean, surely that was enough?

Absolutely not. Even in your state of perpetual irritation and fretting over your feelings, you knew that simply ignoring them was a ridiculous solution. When did that ever go well? Miscommunication was the relationship killer, no matter what type, and what could be more of a misunderstanding than this? You didn’t even know what he thought of you for Seven’s sake!

So you’d resolved yourself to telling him. Even if he’d be irritated surely he’d appreciate your honesty. And even if he didn’t you needed to tell him, for yourself if not for him.

It was with this in mind that you approached him one afternoon as he was working outside.

“Um, Albedo?” Your voice had taken on a slightly weak tone, as if you didn’t have enough air all of a sudden. It sounded weird, and you kind of wished you didn’t have to hear it. But that was par for the course when dealing something like this, although it didn’t make it any easier.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t notice you there.” Albedo turned around to look at you. You noticed that he’d swapped his regular tools for a paint set and an easel. Glancing at the painting you were struck by how he’d somehow managed to depict Cider Lake so accurately with so few brushstrokes. Never did you think about how the slight ripples that appeared in it could look a bit like circles. It was altogether impressive, and for a moment you forgot what you were doing, or perhaps you’d pushed it out of your mind.

“Was there something you wanted to ask?” Albedo’s voice pulled you out of your artistic musings. Evidently you weren’t going to be able to get out of it now. Come hell or high water, you were going to tell him.

“Well, so… you see, I… I really love you and your work!” The words came tumbling out, dropping like stones in the suddenly charged atmosphere. Almost immediately your nerves were replaced with a distinct sinking sense. “Uhm, rather. I mean –” you tried to begin again, but your voice had suddenly turned quite small, and you found yourself unable to continue.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Albedo’s voice was calm but not unkind, for a moment you felt your face grow warm. Was this actually going to happen? It’d be impressive considering how you’d botched it. “I’m so glad to hear there’s someone else interested in my work. I find that unfortunately a great many people take the world around them for granted. That you do not is commendable.”

You found you weren’t really sure what to say; admittedly the only thing going through your mind at the time was something along the lines of Holy shit. Holy shit I fucking blew it.

Okay, so maybe that was an absolute train wreck. Still, you’d gotten that far, and at this point you felt like it’d be harder to stop and deal with the memory of your botched pseudo-confession than to try again. So you steeled your courage and after a week or so you found yourself ready.

This time you tried for as he arrived at work. Originally you were going to wait for afterwards, but you found the anticipation was tearing you apart, and so decided for before. The anticipation, combined with your slight exhaustion, was nearly unbearable; and a not so small part of you kept telling yourself that this was a terrible idea, but you were too far gone.

“Fancy meeting you here at this time.” There was certainly surprise in Albedo’s voice, but he was smiling, and didn’t seem to mind at all when you stammered out that you wanted to ask him about something. He simply nodded, before unlocking his lab and gesturing for you to go in first.

You loved Albedo’s lab. Various pieces of equipment gleamed in the early morning light, everything properly labeled and put away; a stark contrast to the clutter of Albedo’s desk, filled with papers and the odd sample. The whole room was surprisingly nice in general, floors made of wood, painted over with a type of resin as to keep it from being properly damaged, multiple windows keeping the space surprisingly airy, and the smell of various herbs filling the air, though not so much as to be overpowering. You’d once mentioned to Albedo that the space seemed much to homey to be a proper lab. He’d merely laughed, replying that all homes should be comfortable, no matter how out of the ordinary.

Now you used said comfort and familiarity to ground yourself. This time you’d do it. This time for sure.

“So, um about my question?”

“Yes?” Albedo replied, dropping a few things on his desk. You took a breath, steadying yourself before pushing on ahead.

“Well… you know when I told you I liked you and your work?”

“Of course. I was very happy to hear it.” Albedo’s tone remained opaque, you had no idea how your words were registering.

“Well, you see, I wasn’t being completely clear. What I meant was more… well… well I like you, more than your work.” Seeing the look of confusion on his face you sped up slightly. “Not that I don’t like your work of course! It’s just, it’s just…” you were foundering again, feeling stupidly embarrassed. Becoming more and more frustrated with yourself you shook your head. “What I mean is I like you. Personally. And I like you a lot, more than just as acquaintances or as maybe friends. And I know that this is kind of out of the blue and kind of intrusive, and I’m sure there are a lot of people who like you. But I just wanted to tell you because, well I don’t know, just because.”

You took a deep breath, feeling as if you’d said altogether too many words. Glancing towards Albedo you saw a look of slight shock on his face. A feeling of dread was creeping up on you. Maybe it would’ve been better to say nothing.

“Well, I’m certainly flattered,” Albedo began, all your hopes beginning to sink. Urging yourself not to look away your nevertheless started picking at your fingernails, praying that at least the rejection would be over soon. “though I’m not really sure what you see in me. I’m hardly the ideal sort of person. And there certainly don’t seem to be many people who like me.” Albedo paused then; staring at him you found yourself in slight disbelief, sure that the sudden blush painting his cheeks was a figment of your imagination. “That being said, I cannot say that I don’t reciprocate your feelings. In truth I feel quite foolish now, only for assuming you were uninterested and refusing to try my hand at my own confession.”

“Really?” You didn’t mean for the tone of your voice to come out as so utterly disbelieving, but you couldn’t help yourself. Slightly light-headed you took a step forward, closing the space between you and the suddenly bashful alchemist in front of you. “You like me too?”

“Yes.” Albedo nodded slightly. “And, well, since you like me as well, might we…”

“Might we?”

“Might you do me the honor of becoming my partner?”

You found yourself giggling hysterically, half from the sudden release of nerves half from how ludicrous the situation had turned out to be. Seeing Albedo, looking for the first time uncertain and nervous, you stopped. Your face burst into a smile and you nodded.

“This is quite dramatic. But of course, of course I will.”

“I’m glad. But, might I say something?”

“Yes?”

“I wish you’d told me after work. If only because I’ll never be able to concentrate now.”

Childe

If you had to describe your crush on Childe in one word it would be: idiotic. If you had to describe it in a sentence it’d be; incredibly irritating but also impossible to ignore.

You liked Childe, you liked him a lot. And you couldn’t blame yourself. Childe was the ideal sort of partner; charismatic, athletic, with eyes that could make your heart skip a beat and hair that was asking for you to run your hands through it. Childe was attentive too, full of words that would make anyone swoon a bit, and always ready to listen, agreeing with you on every point and reacting just as you wished.

But that was the problem. Childe was a façade, his personality had been honed to be as sharp and as deadly as a knife. Of course he was understanding and charismatic and a perfect person to hold a conversation with, what else could one expect of a member of the Fatui?

At first you’d desperately tried to ignore your feelings, as if they were somehow embarrassing. You felt vaguely guilty for carrying a flame for Childe, as if you’d managed to fall into a trap you’d seen a ways away. It was an unpleasant feeling to be sure, and you tried to bury it as much as possible, sure it’d go away.

But it didn’t go away, instead your feelings somehow seemed to become more and more stubborn, as if insisting on leading you down the path that many fools who interacted with the Fatui had fallen down before. Childe was at the forefront of your mind.

You noticed when he passed by you, shooting you a blinding smile which always turned into a self-confident sort of smirk, no doubt a result of your inevitable blush. You noticed the way he always seemed to ask after your interests, but never failed to avoid more personal topics that might make you uncomfortable. You noticed how he laughed at your odd half-jokes and the way that his hand brushed your once, causing you to withdraw your own as if burned, stammering out a “nothing” when he asked what was wrong.

But still you refused to tell him. Surely that was what he wanted, another person who could be called upon to give information to the Fatui, or perhaps assist in their dirty work. That wouldn’t be you, that would never be you.

It was snowing on your way home, blocking out the normal sounds and casting the world in an eerie sort of beauty. You wished that it wasn’t so late, cursing yourself for once more forgetting how early the sun set. It didn’t help that it was blindingly cold, and that you were dressed for weather that was at least ten degrees warmer. Hurrying along you were thinking about the meal that you were going to have, unaware of the slick patch of ice lying in front of you.

“Whoah, be careful!” You were yanked out of your thoughts with alarm. Glancing around you quickened your pace, shoes slipping immediately on the ice. However instead of a hard fall on the street you found a pair of arms wrapped under yours. Glancing up you found your face only centimeters away from Childe’s.

“Sorry for causing that.” Childe’s voice was clear as a bell, marking the contrast between the two of you in your mind. Lifting you up he chuckled slightly. “I should’ve realized that a random voice yelling at you would be alarming. Nothing bruised I hope?”

“N-no.” You managed, face burning. You’d never gotten this close to Childe before, not really, and the experience was going straight to your head, as if you’d suddenly gotten very, very drunk. Shaking your head you shifted your glanced towards the ground. “Thank you.” You managed, although your voice was soft enough to be inaudible. You were still trying to process what was happening. One question kept replaying itself in your mind, why had he called out, why had he noticed you?

“I’m glad!” Childe’s voice was a beautiful thing, and you found you couldn’t really think when listening to it. “I was a bit worried I wasn’t in time.”

“Yeah…” you replied. Suddenly the situation dawned on you completely, and you found yourself looking at him with no little suspicion. “Why do you pay so much attention to me?” You blurted out.

“What do you mean?” The expression on Childe’s face was one of perfect confusion, but you could tell that he’d been somehow caught. The tone of his voice was suddenly muddied, as if you were hearing his uncertainty for the first time. This gave you courage to press forward.

“I mean it. Why, why do I always see you? I mean, why do you even pay attention to me? I’m not the kind of person to forget who you are, the fact that you’re a member of the Fatui. I won’t be roped into your schemes, no matter how much I like you.” Shit. That last part was supposed to be only in your head. For a moment you weren’t sure if you hadn’t actually hit your head somehow.

Childe looked frozen, his expression blank, filled with disbelief as well as… bashfulness? If that’s what it was it certainly didn’t fit the normal vision of Childe, still you found yourself somehow compelled by it. This was a part of the real Childe.

“I… didn’t realize you’d notice. Now I feel found out!” He chuckled again, but this time it was distinctly nervous, and he turned to the side slightly. Suddenly he paused, and his eyes snapped towards yours. “Wait, rewind. You like me?”

“…Yeah.” I mean what were you supposed to say?

“I can’t believe this.” The widest grin spread across Childe’s face, and he started bouncing on his toes slightly, it was very cute you could give him that.

“You’re ignoring the rest of my words. Personal feelings or not I still hate the Fatui, and I still don’t know why you’d target me anyways.”

“It’s cause I like you, can’t you tell?” Childe’s words rammed into you, utterly unexpected; seeing you shake your head he once more closed the space between you two. “No, I mean it. I like you. I just can’t believe that you like me back.” He let out another huff of laughter. “I can’t believe I’m this lucky, I’ve never been this lucky. Well, I’m sorry that I came off like I was some Fatui creep, I promise my occupation doesn’t include systematic wooing of civilians.”

“How can I trust you?” You were trying to stand your ground, but in reality you’d already fallen. The situation was too much, and what little resistance you’d managed to hold on in the past weeks was tearing to shreds before your own eyes.

“Because I wouldn’t lie about this.” Childe was suddenly still, his expression deadly serious. “I promise I wouldn’t lie about something like this. The fact is I like you, I like you a lot. I know my job is… unconventional to say the least; I also know that it’s entirely fair if you don’t want to associate with me because of it. But at least trust in my feelings being real, okay?”

What could you do? You nodded, a short “I trust you” falling from your lips. The feeling of happiness was surprisingly sedate, mixed with nerves, yet also somehow filled with contentment. It felt so good, it felt so good just to let go and accept what had happened. You liked Childe, you liked him so much, and he like you too. What more was there to say?

“May I ask you something?” Childe asked, voice slightly husky. Your faces were once more barely apart, and you found that you could stay like this for ages and ages.

“Yes?”

“May I hold your hand?”

You let out a laugh, smiling brightly as you slid your hand into his.

Diluc

You weren’t even sure how this one happened.

It wasn’t that Diluc wasn’t the perfect kind of guy, I mean if he wasn’t you probably wouldn’t be falling madly into one sided love with him. It was just that you two didn’t actually have much of a chance to interact with one another, what with him being the manager and part time bartender of a surprisingly vast winery, and with you being an adventurer and someone not likely to get plastered any time soon.

But the few times that you had interacted with him, usually something to do with guarding the alcohol he was exporting, had been enough to cement an intense infatuation in your mind. There was just something about him; whether it was his voice, his polite yet intense form of speech; his mannerisms, always perfectly on time with what he needed, something which helped you and the Guild immensely; or his general charm, okay look he had great hair; you’d simply gone mad for him.

And mad indeed you were. Though you weren’t about to become a stalker – besides being incredibly creepy on principle since when did that land a person in anything but jail – you’d taken to trying to find out a least a little more about him. Because if you were going to be infatuated with someone it should at least be for more than his organizational skills and the fact his hair would look great in a high ponytail.

And what you’d found out only built upon your crush. The fact that he found the Knights of Favonius lacking, though perhaps a bit unconventional, was ultimately reasonable, or at least justifiable. You liked also that he refrained from drinking, and not just because the idea of ending the night sick in the bathroom was something that haunted you a bit. The more you learned the more you wished that you were in a situation where your feelings could be reciprocated, or at least where you could become friends of some degree. Really you just wanted him to notice your existence, sure he could pick you out in the endless sea of adventurers.

So you planned on introducing yourself at some point, at least as his almost designated wine protector. The only problem was when. Diluc seemed to be busier and busier these days, and when he was around he seemed muted, as if he was carrying something. You couldn’t bring yourself to add to his burden your own baggage. So you said nothing, and as your crush grew so did your dejection.

It was a lovely summer evening and, seeing as your apartment had becoming stifling in the daytime, you’d taken a walk, snaking through the streets of Monstadt before exiting via the back gate, glad to see there were no guards around. Walking down towards the banks of the lake you slipped off your shoes and dipped your feet into the water. Letting out a sigh you sat down and tilted your head back, enjoying the slightly breeze on your face, trying to take your mind off of the past months of agony. The world faded into background noise, and you found yourself in a state of pseudo peace, glad to have it, if only for a moment.

“Watch out!” A familiar voice broke through your reverie. Turning your head towards the source of your disruption you saw a masked figure as well as a cryo abyss mage. The mage, having correctly decided you were going to be easier to deal with than the actively armed person, suddenly appeared right in front of you. Acting on instinct you pushed your hand in front of you, letting electricity bloom from your fingertips.

As the abyss mage lay stunned your felt an arm wrap around your waist, dragging you a ways away. “Wait here.” The person carrying you said, before running back to fight. Finally getting a good look at your savior it was all you could do not to gasp. Despite being the cold hard truth you still found it hard to believe, and for a second you wondered if you hadn’t passed out somewhere and were having a particularly fantastic dream.

Finally the fighting was over, lifting yourself up you jogged over to the man who could only be the Darknight Hero.

“Master Diluc?” The words flew out of your mouth.

“Just Diluc please.” Diluc shook his head. “Forgive me for being a bit rough. Cryo abyss mages and electro users rarely work well together.”

“It’s perfectly fine!” You replied eagerly. “Really, thank you!”

Diluc offered a smile in reply, one that immediately made your heart seize up. Suddenly you remembered who the person in front of you was. Seized at first with something akin to embarrassment you also came to a sudden realization. This might be the only chance.

“Diluc?”

“Yes?”

“Well, can I say something?”

“Of course you may.” Diluc relaxed his stance, leaning slightly forward. Your face was burning, you really weren’t expecting something like this to happen, but it was now or never.

“I realize this will be quite sudden, but I… I like you.” You felt the urge to add on something, some explanation or apology, but unfortunately, or perhaps thankfully, you found you couldn’t say anything more. Running your fingers through your hair you lowered your head slightly, not wanting to see the expression on his face.

“Can I say something?” Diluc’s voice was gentle, and you couldn’t help but look up at him. Though you wouldn’t say his stance had changed very much, he somehow seemed more relaxed, something you weren’t expecting.

“Of course! I realize what I said must really be a shock, I’m really sorry.” You let out a pathetic sort of laugh.

“Don’t be sorry. I realize what I’m about to say must be equally as shocking. But, the fact of the matter is I like you as well.”

“I didn’t realize you knew I existed!” You replied, still not ready to drop your defense mechanisms. Diluc stared at you, a perplexed expression on his face.

“I’m quite surprised by that, I thought that my request for you to be the guild member in charge of the Winery would’ve been an indicator. Forgive me, I didn’t realize that you were unaware.”

“I thought that was a decision by the Guild to make things easier.” You admitted. “Although I guess I just didn’t want to admit that you might be aware of my existence.”

“Why?”

“Because that would’ve been scary! I mean, what if you didn’t like me, not in that way, just… in general.”

“Well I like you a lot.” Diluc’s voice was soft and warm.

“I like you two.” You replied, voice barely above a whisper.

As he escorted you back to your home the two of you spoke about a myriad of things, some important and some quite mundane. You found that having your feeling reciprocated had truly opened up something in you. Suddenly everything seemed so much realer, made manifest by Diluc’s presence. You couldn’t believe it really. What had failed with months of planning had succeeded in a matter of moments.

And all because of an unsuspecting abyss mage.

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bookstantrash · 3 years

Text

A/N: I am so very sorry for not updating for so long. I know I said I’d try to update more frequently while I was on uni break but life happened lmao. Classes are back, but I’ll try not left y’all hanging for so long.

You can check here Pemberley’s Lake, Hooked on You, Smells like petrichor and paper, The Sound of Music and A Midsummer Night’s Dream, part one, two, three, four and five of my Nessian Pride and Prejudice AU.

That being said, I hope y’all enjoy this chapter! We got a little bit of fluff, sprinkles of angst and a lovely plot twist ✨

Bloody Day and Ominous letters

Nesta woke up with the worst headache she had ever had in her entire life. She really should not have drunk as much as she had last night but as she saw her friends and Morrigan having fun that little voice inside her head — usually her mother’s or grandmother's saying Do better, Stop being such a disappointment or Your only purpose is to marry well so forget about love — got louder and louder, judging her company and trying to make her feel ashamed.

But she had had enough. Her grandmother and mother had both passed away already. It was time to bury them for good. So Nesta took the wine bottle from Morrigan and drank half of it in one go, her friends cheering around her. And she had so much fun. Nesta would never have guessed that drinking could be so enjoyable, nothing like those uptight parties where the ladies sipped a lonely glass all night long while the gentleman lost count of theirs. The only downside was her killing headache and the fact that she had overslept, a fact she took notice of once she glanced at the wall clock.

She had just sat up on her bed — massaging her temple to ease the tension on her head — when an insistent knocking on her door made her mumble a curse. No doubt it was either Emerie or Gwyn — maybe both of them — waking her up. Those two were quite used to drinking, so it was no surprise to Nesta that they would be up and about very early.

“Would you two stop it?” she said loudly, opening the door wearing only her chemise, probably having ditched her dress during the night while she slept “I have a killer headache and your banging is not helping at all—”

She stopped mid sentence when she came face to face with Georgianam, the young lady’s hand still raised to knock on her door, Cassian right behind her.

“Oh, I apologise Lady Nesta” Georgiana said “We had agreed that we would go on a nice early morning walk today, but when I did not spot Miss Archeron at the breakfast table I got worried.”

“Please do forgive me, Miss Georgiana. I had a bit too much to drink yesterday and ended up oversleeping.” Nesta quickly said, mentally kicking herself for her rudeness “I will be ready for our walk in a minute.”

“Lovely! I will be waiting at the parlor then!”

Nesta closed the door with a sigh. Her morning had not begun the best.

However, it was only while she was brushing her hair that her sleep fogged mind caught up to the fact that Cassian had seen her half asleep wearing nothing but her chemise and with early morning messy bed hair.

She definitely could not be allowed to drink more than two glasses of alcohol if that was how she was going to behave whenever she drank more than deemed proper.

When she arrived at the parlor ten minutes later, she could not help but avoid looking at Cassian.

“Mrs. Potts brought you a little something to eat” Georgiana informed, pouring Nesta tea “And also some headache medicine”

“Please thank her in my instead later, she is too kind to me”

“Oh, it was all my brother’s doing” Georgiana smiled in Cassian's direction, serving herself some cookies “He was the one who asked her to provide not only the medicine but also the food.”

“I appreciate the gesture, my lord.” Nesta hid her blush behind the teacup.

“It was nothing, my lady” was all he answered, refusing to look at her.

That made Nesta’s heart strangely hurt. She could not help but think he had been disgusted by her earlier appearance. Her hair was such a mess and her chemise was all wrinkled from sleep—

Wait. Why did she care so much of what he thought of her? Nesta Archeron was not one to give much attention to others opinion of herself, so why was she getting so worked up when it came to Cassian? Of course, one could not help but notice how he always looked so presentable, with his spotless clothes, hair combed to perfection every single time. She had never seen a gentleman’s hair be so… perfect. She could bet her first edition of her favourite romance that he had awfully handsome bed hair. And that he had a mint breath even when woke up. And that he probably slept shirtless, if the last time she saw him at midnight at his library was any indication of his sleeping attire.

Oh Mother, why was she now thinking about all of that? She waved an imaginary hand to disperse her not so proper thoughts, focusing on the small talk Georgiana was making.

Both Nesta and Cassian kept avoiding each other during their walk, which did not pass by Georgiana without notice, especially given how her brother had made sure to stay two steps behind them, giving the excuse he wanted to give both ladies “privacy to talk comfortably”, something he had never done. Their walk, however, was cut short when Nesta showed signs of being tired and admitted that her headache had not disappeared.

“I assure you it is nothing to fret over” Nesta told a worried Mrs. Potts when they came back “It must be from yesterday’s drinking. There is no need to call a doctor.”

“Nonetheless, I will ask Chef Ramsay to prepare some light food and my special hangover drink” the old headmaid said with a motherly expression.

Thanking Mrs. Potts again, Nesta went to her room to splash some water on her face in hopes of refreshing herself. But a painful jab low on her stomach made her freeze and the blood drain from her face.

~•~

“Just knock on the door, my Lord” Lumière said as he watched Cassian drop his hand once again. The maître d’ had been watching his lord pace in front of the parlor door for what must have been twenty minutes.

“I do not want to bother her. Maybe I should call Mrs. Potts or wait until the other ladies come back” Cassian ran his hand through his hair in distress. Emerie and Balthazar had gone out with Morrigan to visit some possible new business partners — her big circle of connections proving itself to be very useful in helping expand their business — while Azriel and Gwyn had gone to the town, which was helding a small music festival. Georgiana, on the other hand, had received a telegram from a friend who had returned early from their trip abroad, and she had promptly gone to meet them.

“This, dear brother, is your chance to speak to Miss Nesta” she had said before leaving “I do not know what happened to make you both so distant, but you better make amends. I already asked Emerie to design the gown I shall wear at your wedding.”

Cassian had told Georgie to mind her own business and stop being such a busybody, proceeding to stand guard outside the parlor.

“Leave the lord alone” Cogsworth hissed, elbowing Lumiére “Her ladyship has not asked for help so it must mean she is fine and does not wish to be bothered.”

“Nonsense, old friend!! The lady is simply too shy to ask for it and the lord too polite to risk disturbing her” taking a step forward, Lumière knocked on the door.

“What do you think you are doing?!” the major-domo whisper yelled, and Cassian was sure he would have throttled Lumière were it not for the faint voice coming from the other side.

“Please, do come in” Nesta said.

Taking a deep breath, Cassian opened the door, leaving behind Cogsworth and Lumière, who were trying very hard not to start a duel right there.

The first thing he looked for was Nesta.

Nesta, who was rather pale and was clutching a pillow very hard against her stomach.

“Are you alright?” he asked, not knowing whether to sit beside her or just stay standing a few feet away.

“I am” she said, although the deep breath she took had him thinking it was not true “Where are Gwyn and Emerie?”

“Gwyn went to the town festival with Azriel. An Emerie went with Mor and Balthazar to meet prospective business partners.”

“Are you really alright Nesta?” he asked again “You do not seem fine at all if I may say.”

“I assure you I am perfectly fine” Nesta insisted through clenched teeth “Where is Georgiana?”

“At a friend’s house. They returned early from a trip.” Cassian said, a bit annoyed she was asking for his sister when he was right there. It was a stupid jealous feeling, and he was not even more annoyed because he felt glad they got on so well.

“Do you know when any of them will be back?”

“I am afraid I do not know” daring to approach her, Cassian sat beside her on the sofa “But I am here. If there is anything I could do…”

“There is no need to bother yourself. I truly am—”

And that was when Nesta whimpered and clutched her pillow even tighter, doubling over a little bit.

“You are definitely far from fine sweetheart” Cassian said, rubbing her back in hopes of helping her, nevermind proper etiquette.

“It is really nothing. Just—”

“Just what?”

“Lady stuff!!” Nesta finally said, her whole face heating up like a fireplace.

“Oh. Oh! I see. I— I understand” he said, also a little bit flustered “Not that I actually get it but I have also experienced pain and—”

Nesta wished the ground would open up and swallow her. She was used to getting her period, it was a monthly occurrence. Nothing out of the ordinary. However, this time it seemed her body had decided to punish her more than usual. Not only had she gotten a killer headache — made worse by her hangover — but she was cramping very badly, and they usually were not that bad. That was why she had gone to that walk with Georgiana, even though she was getting mildly uncomfortable soon after they arrived at the garden.

Not that she did not want to miss any Cassian time.

Him going with them had been a bonus.

A surprise, but not a pleasant one.

Maybe just a bit pleasant if she was being honest. Just a tiny tiny bit.

“I will stop talking now” Cassian mumbled, interrupting not for the first time her errant thoughts.

She wanted to die. To tell Cassian — even indirectly — that she had gotten her period was the most mortifying she had ever experienced.

“I can get Mrs. Potts for you” he tentatively said, restarting the back rubs “She can get you some tea for pain. Or a bag of warm water. You can tell her anything, do not worry.”

Nesta managed to nod her head in agreement, despite her stubborn side that refused to ask for help from the maids or other servants at Pemberley.

Cassian himself went looking for the head maid instead of just ringing for her, assuring her he would be back in less than ten minutes. And he did come back in record time with Mrs. Potts, who gave her tea and pain tonic that she assured Nesta made wonders for stopping cramps. All the while Cassian hovered over Mrs. Potts, unsure of what to do.

“Do you require anything else? Maybe another blanket?” he asked after Mrs. Potts had left. He had made sure to bring back a blanket too and had even tucked her in with extra care “Or more tea? I can ask someone to come and bring fresh hot tea”

Nesta would never have imagined Cassian to be such an overbearing mother hen. He was being extra careful around her and it annoyed her beyond reason.

“Cassian, this happens every month. Has been happening since I was thirteen, alright? Can you please stop?” she snapped.

She regretted her words as soon as she realised how rude she had been and what exactly she had said. However, he was being so overweening. As if she was made of glass or was on her deathbed.

Yet all Cassian did was crack a smile and nudge a chocolate muffin towards her. Nesta had been in such pain and so quiet he had been concerned if Mrs. Potts’ pain tonic would really work. But there she was.

There was the feisty, sharp tongued and quick-witted Nesta he knew.

There was the Nesta he fell in love with.

He barely held his tongue back and risked blutering his feelings right in front of her. Again.

“May I get you a book then? It is a good way to pass the time until your friends are back.”

“Thank you. That would be lovely” Nesta gave him a soft smile, her previous embarrassment having died down a little.

He was gone and back in a record time, and Nesta delusioned herself into thinking he had raced to the library because he did not want to leave her for too long.

“I got the book you were not able to finish last night” Cassian said, handing her Sellyn Drake’s latest romance “And I also took the liberty of getting one of my favourites too. In case you finish this one quickly.”

She thanked him again, curious as to what book was his favourite, what made her even eager to finish her current read.

Turns out Cassian was a fan of epic poems, a fact that — combined with his admission of having read Sellyn Drake’s romances — once again made Nesta view him with new eyes. She had thought he would be more of a war strategy person, all business and serious matters. Yet it seemed that Cassian had a dreamer inside of him.

“How many times have you read this book?” Nesta asked as she turned a yellowed page. The book was old, but she could see it was very loved given its good condition.

“A lot of times. It was my favourite book as a child, and I could not part with it once I moved out of my childhood home” he gave her a smile “It was also my dear companion during long expeditions. I have most of it memorized.”

“I bet you charmed every single lady during your travels with your knowledge, wooing them with beautiful words” she teased, despite the small pang of jealousy in her heart.

You refused his hand and humiliated him, she thought, you have no place to feel jealous. Cassian is a wonderful gentleman, it is expected to have women falling left and right for him, not to say him pursuing them.

“You are actually the first person apart from my family who knows that I read poetry” Cassian admitted “And I also have never met someone that made me want to declare a poem to”

Nesta did not know what to say to that. They were bordering dangerous territory, something that seemed to happen more and more frequently.

And Cassian, seated right beside her, was thinking the same thing. He had allowed himself to get closer to him again, something that yesterday he had vowed to avoid, had tried to do that morning. But to see her in pain, uncomfortable and not talking to him hurt more than those moments in which he could see a life with her. Those moments with Nesta were a double edged sword: he craved and loathed them with the same urgency.

He would kill to have even a single moment with her.

He would die if he had even a single moment with her.

Nesta made him want to be selfish.

Made him want to declare poems to her, maybe even attempt to write her one.

At the moment, he could not help but recall a certain verse of the Epic of Gilgamesh:

What could I offer

the queen of love in return, who lacks nothing at all?

Balm for the body? The food and drink of the gods?

I have nothing to give to her who lacks nothing at all.

You are the door through which the cold gets in.

You are the fire that goes out. You are the pitch

that sticks to the hands of the one who carries the bucket.

You are the house that falls down. You are the shoe

that pinches the foot of the wearer. The ill-made wall

that buckles when time has gone by. The leaky

water skin soaking the water skin carrier.

To Cassian, Nesta was the goddess of love. And he was the one who could not offer her a single thing for she lacked nothing.

“Well, I will not disturb your reading any longer” clearing his throat to break the new tense silence between them, Cassian gestured to the book in her hand “But do feel free to make comments while you read, I would very much like to hear your opinions about it.”

And she did just that. Every passage she found interesting, each line that caught her eye and interpretation she had about a certain phrase, she shared them all with Cassian. Somewhere during their conversation that awkward tension between them disappeared completely, with Cassian letting his arm rest on the back of the couch, getting closer to Nesta. And Nesta somehow ended up getting closer to him too, almost leaning on his side.

It was all very improper. Cassian staying alone with Nesta, so close to each other and acting as a married couple.

But Cassian would let himself be selfish one last time.

One last time before they had to go their separate ways.

~•~

The day would have ended perfectly were it not for the letter that Gwyn brought once she and Azriel had come back.

While Emerie, Balthazar and Mor had arrived late in the evening — with good news of new partnerships being agreed on — Gwyn and Azriel had come back much later, just when everyone had finished dinner. Nesta had not been too worried, she trusted Azriel to take care of Gwyn and her friend was not bound by the stifling high society etiquette, but she breathed a little easier when they finally arrived.

“Oh Nesta, we passed by the inn we were staying at before and the landlady gave me a letter addressed to you. It seems she had forgotten to send it to us yesterday when our things were brought here.” Gwyn gave her the letter once they had moved to the game room “She apologised deeply for it.”

“I understand, it is a busy season for them.”

“It is a letter from Feyre” Nesta furrowed her brows in confusion as she broke the letter’ seal, which she recognized as being the one representing Feyre’ status as Duchess “She sent one barely a week ago, I wonder what could have happened.”

Nesta had guessed it would be another letter from Feyre asking about how their trip was going, if she had seen beautiful scenarios and bought any souvenir for her youngest sister. Or even a curious inquiry about what she thought of Cassian. Feyre had been quite interested to know if they got along — she had always been a busybody and matchmaker, and since marrying Rhysand had tried time and time again to nonchalantly push her to Cassin. If she ever discovered that Nesta had already been proposed by Cassian — and that she had refused his hand — chaos would befall upon Nesta.

However, as her eyes scanned the lines, Nesta’s assumptions of its contents proved to be far away from reality. She felt her blood run cold, her heart stop beating and fear. So much fear.

“Excuse me” she managed to say, getting up “I need a moment.”

“Nesta, are you alright? What did Feyre say? You are very pale” Gwyn said, her voice full of worry.

“I am fine. Just cramps” she brushed off her friend’s worries. She did not want to make the others notice that something was off with her, she did not want to alarm Gwyn..

Yet as she exited the room she failed to perceive that Cassian had been paying attention to her ever since Gwyn gave her the letter. He was always paying attention to his surroundings, especially when she was around.

He left the room a few moments after her, trying not to raise suspicion to his attitude. He did not know where she had gone — Pemberley was vast and her room was too far away for him to not have caught her faster — but something led him to the small outdoor patio just left from the small gallery he had at Pemberley.

As he got closer and closer there, he heard the sound of someone crying, which made his heart beat faster and a deep fear grow inside him.

He arrived outside to find an unimaginable scene: Nesta crying. Crying as if her heart had been ripped out of her chest.

She was a mess, her careful braided hair coming undone, as if she had ran her hands through it in desperation.

“Nesta… Nes dear, what happened? Is Feyre alright?” Cassian did not care that she most probably left the room to cry in private. He was worried, he needed to be beside her, he needed to help her somehow.

“I— Feyre she—” she was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe, let alone talk, making Cassian’s heart break in a thousand pieces.

“Shh it’s okay sweetheart. I am here Nes” he gently cupped her face, making her look at him “Take deep breaths with me.”

He took a deep breath, holding it in for three seconds before letting it go. He kept doing it until Nesta did the same, slowly calming down.

“Can you talk now? Do you want me to fetch you some water?” Cassian asked, tenderly brushing off her remaining tears.

“No, I— I can talk now” Nesta took another breath “Feyre is alright. It is Elain.”

“Elain? Is she sick? Talk to me Nes, help me understand”

Elain was the picture of the perfect lady in high society. With her numerous suitors, lovely and delicate behaviour — not to mention her singular beauty — it was hard to find someone who did not like her. Given that her hobbies — cooking and gardening — did not pose a threat to her health and well being, Cassian could not understand what would have made Nesta react so strongly. Perhaps Elain had fallen ill, something that rarely happened.

“No. She is not sick” Nesta shook her head “Cauldron, I almost wished she was sick.”

“Elain was…. Elain was kidnapped” she added, her eyes filling with tears again.

“Kidnapped? How?”

That made no sense, who would kidnap Elain? And why?

“She was going to visit Feyre. And when she didn't show up Rhysand went to search for her and—” Nesta started to cry, desperation filling her voice “They found her carriage turned over and hidden near the outskirts of the city. No sign of her at all.”

Cassian was speechless. He could only imagine how Feyre must be feeling after she got the news and hoped Rhysand was doing his everything to help find Elain.

“The coachman was killed and her lady in waiting was rushed to the hospital.” she cried even harder “This is all my fault. I should never have left her. We have no male relatives and Feyre is living too far from our childhood home. I was supposed to take care of her.”

“Nesta, it is not your fault. You could never have guessed something like this could happen.” he looked deep in her eyes, the blue in them even brighter because of her tears “Is there anything I could do to help?”

“I am afraid there isn’t, '' she whispered “I have to go back home. Try to hire an investigator, talk to Feyre and hope Elain is not disgraced by society rumors. Hope she is alive”

Cassian could only nod in agreement and wait for Nesta to recompose herself before they went back inside. Their friends were as horrified and worried about the situation as he and Nesta, and decided to go back right that moment. The staff noticed something was amiss and made sure to ready the carriage in record time.

“Thank you for welcoming you at your home” Nesta said, her complexion a bit better “I can assure you we all had a wonderful time here.”

“It was my pleasure. Have a safe travel and remember that Pemberey is open to you and your friends whenever you want to visit” Cassian helped Nesta get on her carriage one last time, letting go of her hand begrudgingly.

And as Nesta and her friends got farther and farther from Pemberley, as Nesta got farther and farther away from him and took his heart with her, Cassian felt a calm fury settle inside him.

He had some letters to write to some old friends.

•

Tag list: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @arinbelle @caotica-e-quieta @vidalinav @swankii-art-teacher @ireallyshouldsleeprn @duskandstarlight @d0riansgray @thegoddessaltenia @dayanna-hatter @verypaleninja @awesomelena555 @courtofjurdan @valkyriewarriors @moe8 @illyrianwitchling13 @silvernesta @bri-loves-sunflowers @queenestarcheron @imwritingthesewords @vasudharaghavan @rainbowcheetah512 @darkshadowqueensrule @letstakethedawn @starlightorstarfire @city-of-fae @thalia-2-rose @nestaarcher0n @rowaelinismyotp @julemmaes @dontgetsalmonella @cardansgreenbriars @lysandra-tiara @inardour @hikari274 @fatimafares123 @angelina-figjam @castielspelvis @lanyjoy-13 @18moneytoad @booksstorm @terrible-and-proud @illyrianundercover @ladygabrielli1997 @loosingdreams @live-the-fangirl-life @moodymelanist

{Please let me know if you’d like to be added to my Fixed Tag list}

Reblogs are always welcomed!!

#nessian #cassian x nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #pride and prejudice AU #sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm books #sjm fanfic

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alienaiver · 3 years

Text

Half the Battle, pt. 1

Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader

find part two here!

warnings: slight angst about childhood/parents fighting/divorce, one (1) bottle of wine is opened, someone is betrayed in Mario Party, NOT beta-read! apologize for any mistakes! (lmk if there’s any warnings i missed!)

wordcount: 5.5k

content: soulmate AU, mild angst, fluff, post-timeskip but slight canon divergence (i haven’t read the manga yet so this is loosely based off of their canon timeskip lives), gender neutral reader, reader is a video editor, reader is bad at eye contact but the details as to why are vague/up for interpretation!

notes: this was made for @gg9183 ‘s wonderful birthday event, a soulmate collab! (go read the other wonderful works!) happy birthday once again, gray!! this was meant to be a 2k one shot but.... plans and inspiration changes sometimes, right? 🥺 so this ended up as a 5k part ONE lmfao i hope thats alright w u!!! part2 will be up asap, i promise!! i hope you enjoy this!!!!

—————————

Not meeting his soulmate was fine, Kuroo often found himself thinking. The odds of finding your soulmate’s way too low to be realistic anyways, he supported the thought. It’s illogical to spend so much time fretting about it, he finally added for good measure.

Soulmates were a natural part of life, always had been. But with the big wide world filled with over seven billion people, meeting yours wasn’t completely unheard of. But given the powers of soulmates even existing, it wasn’t unrealistic to also believe that some kind of fate would pull you towards each other throughout your lives so that you would meet each other. Kuroo however, prided himself in not caring about soulmates. His life was rich enough. People explaining their feelings about “something being missing until they finally meet them” was incomprehensible to him.

Kuroo had lived for 29 years without being able to see color. And you know what? His life was damn well fulfilling enough. He had a beautiful apartment, an economy that flourished, an adorable cat named Cucumber and good people around him. What would he really need a soulmate for? He could ignore his friends comments on how wonderful the world was in color, if only he would just start looking for his soulmate, how much meaning it gave life. Just because the people in his closest circle had all magically met theirs – not to mention how many of them had already met in Goddamn high school, Kuroo scoffed and was always able to move on.

Even though a lot of people actively made eye contact with everyone they met, even people on the street, to make sure they would meet their soulmate, Kuroo kept his eyes down. He wasn’t insecure, come on, he was perfectly happy! He just didn’t need to be late for a meeting because he got eye contact with some stranger, you know?

His life was in perfect balance as is.. Until yesterday, of course. It had turned out there was mold in his apartment complex so they had to evict it for a month while a crew would go through everything to remove it. He didn’t want to go to his mother’s place, that was too far from his work, but he wasn’t in the mood for a hotel, that was way too expensive, so he turned to his best friend of many years with the biggest set of puppy eyes he could muster and the prospect of making every dinner while he lived there.

“Fine… but don’t get in the way,” was all Kenma had to say.

And so Kuroo spent his last weekend in his own apartment packing things down to make it accessible to the cleaning crew. Cucumber hated other cats with a passion so he couldn’t bring him to Kenma’s, where three cats already happily lived, so his mother would pick him up tomorrow afternoon.

He sat on his couch, scrolling his phone mindlessly with Cucumber on his lap who had been stressed with all the packing down, sensing something was up. He was being extra cuddly towards Kuroo who, honestly? Didn’t mind at all. He loved when Cucumber was in mood for cuddles, though it wasn’t very often. He had been told his cat was orange and while he didn’t have a measure for what that color actually looked like, he was happy with his gray cat.

His mother was supposed to arrive any minute now, so he should have gotten up and put the cat in his carrier but it was easier to get him in it if you had two pair of hands. He scrolled through Instagram, reaching a photo put up by Tsukishima of his soulmate, the light-haired manager of their high school volleyball club, with a tooth-eating grin on her face and proudly showing off a ring on her finger, the caption said, This smile makes me wanna brag. Kuroo could physically hear the provocative tone of his voice, knowing he was one of the first in his circle of friends to actually plan a wedding. Kuroo clicked his tongue with a smile on his face and double-tapped to like the picture.

He didn’t know if it was the combination of that post and the fact that his mother was on her way but memories of his parent’s wedding flooded his mind. For a lot of people, weddings felt obsolete in the face of the whole “you already got your soulmate and you know this” thing, so a lot of couples were happy not getting married but just being together. But there was also the benefits of marriage in the practical sense, so some people did anyways, some hosting parties, some not. His parents weren’t married when he came to, but after he turned five they decided to do it so he would be protected by both of them, in case of any emergency.

It had been a small wedding, only the closest family and friends but Kuroo was vivid, so excited about being part of that whole romantic ordeal, even helping his mom find a dress and everything. He had been a huge and important part of the wedding – if he did say so himself. Everyone had been glowing at the day, the food was delicious, there was laughter, song and cheers and everyone had brought so many presents – even some for little Tetsurou, who had been very excited about his new train tracks.

But when Kuroo was seven years old, it wasn’t as romantic anymore. His parents were fighting a lot, he wasn’t entirely sure why or about what because they would never tell him about it, no matter how much he asked. When he tried to listen in, the words he heard didn’t explain anything to him because even though they were yelling at each other, the important words were always whispered, as if they knew Kuroo was listening in.

When he was eight his mom had come into his room, hugged him and with tears in her eyes and said that they were going to move away.

“Where are we going?” he asked simply, no emotion to be read on his little face. He was exhausted from his parents being this way – they were soulmates, right? Why did they fight like that?

“To Tokyo, just you and me, my love.”

That’s when he met Kenma. He had been very closed-off and shy back when they met, he reminisced. He had been a regular kid when he was younger but the way his parents split up – his soulmate parents – had closed him off pretty bad, so it was a miracle he met Kenma and started opening up again.

Kuroo smiled to himself bitterly before scratching Cucumber’s ear. He supposed this was also why he wasn’t interested in his soulmate. So many people had romanticized the whole soulmate ideal so a lot of people forgot that relationships still took work, took effort and just because they were made for each other, didn’t necessarily guarantee that they would stay together. His mom and dad didn’t officially talk anymore, but when he asked his mom as a child whether or not she still saw color, she said that she did. He also found long letters in her bedroom when he was nine, letters from his dad, so he supposed they still talked together, though Kuroo wasn’t let in on it – nor was he particularly interested. And he definitely we wasn’t interested in ending up in a relationship with someone who would end up not wanting to put in the effort for the relationship to flourish.

After Cucumber had been picked up by his mom it was time to leave for Kenma’s place. He carried the last boxes of valuables down to his basement and locked them in before trekking down to the subway with his suitcase and sports bag.

_____

You were late for work, so you scrambled to pack your things. It was Wednesday afternoon and you were supposed to meet in at 3PM, because that was around the time that Kodzuken had planned to finish his recording, he told you yesterday. You were a video editor and had met Kenma through your old part-time job in his favorite convenience store quite a few years back, back when he had first bought his house when he was 24. You remembered talking to him about video games in the store since you also played some, and after a good while of polite customer service and talk about new games, you had started hanging out outside of work as well. When you had then told him you were actually a freelance video editor but just didn’t get many jobs, he had almost instantly hired you to do his YouTube videos for him and general editing and set-ups of his streams. I know video games, not recording equipment, he had told you so many years ago.

Your original thought had been wary, because working for a friend might get messy but Kenma cared a lot about keeping it professional when you were on the clock, which you appreciated very much. In his house, down by his game room, there was a room next door with screens and all the best editing software just for you to play with. Your pay was higher than average for such a “simple” but regular gig but when prompted about it, he simply shrugged and told you it wasn’t up for negotiation and no one was being treated unfair – and who were you to go against such a good pay for a job that you loved doing and wanted to do full-time? With Kenma being a famous streamer and gamer, he often made lots of different videos for various sites so your job hours resembled a nine to five job, easy, even if the hours were off from the more conventional jobs and you usually came in later in the day and sometimes finished off late in the evening – some of his videos had a time limit for a release date of a game, so there was also days where you were extremely busy and scrambling to get the video done right for a release of a game.

As you closed your bag and ran out the door towards the subway, you checked your phone for any updates. If he’d finished early, he would’ve texted you about it, so you put your phone in your pocket and hurried towards his house.

When you arrived you immediately rang the doorbell before catching your breath, you were used to Kenma spending a few minutes before reaching the door and opening it, so when the door opened almost instantly you took a step back before looking up. The one opening the door was taller than Kenma and in a loose dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the top - that’s all you saw before your eyes darted down to your feet.

“...Hi! I’m uh… Where’s Kenma?” was all you got out while fidgeting with your purse strap, it certainly wasn’t his boyfriend Hinata opening the door today.

“Oh, hey! You must be his video editor, right? He told me about you!” The man said, pointing to himself with his thumb,

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou! Kenma’s childhood friend! Sorry to intrude, I’ll be living here for the next month, I promise not to get in your way!” As he finished his introduction, he moved aside so that you could enter. As you took off your shoes you heard Kenma’s feet shuffling towards you, “oh hey, welcome, you’re early,” Kenma said with his usual deadpan expression but you could clearly hear the teasing in his voice.

“At least I’m here now, right?” You smiled back, instantly relaxing at the sight of your boss and friend. You turned to Kuroo again, bowed and introduced yourself before taking off your coat and putting it on a hanger, while Kenma and the guy named Kuroo seemed to bicker a bit about whether or not Kuroo should answer the door while he lived there.

“I’ll go set it up, have you transferred the video files to the hard disk?” you asked Kenma as you moved towards ‘your’ office, sending Kuroo a polite smile while keeping your eyes on his neck.

Eye contact was hard for you, it always made you extremely uncomfortable and you didn’t really have any before you felt comfortable with the person. Your mother had often scolded you, saying you’d never find your soulmate at this rate, which you always acknowledged with a hum or a simple yes without starting a discussion.

You honestly weren’t sure whether or not you cared for a soulmate. Your biggest argument to wanting to find one was so that you could see colors, because it’d help your career. Kenma already had his soulmate, so he was the one deciding the color scheme for his videos and helped with the color-related editing, which worked fine as of now, but you would probably appreciate to be able to do it yourself. You had also spent some years coming to terms with your struggles with eye contact and accept that this was just how you functioned. If you missed your soulmate in a random supermarket thanks to it one day, well, you’d be none the wiser, so you felt sure you’d survive without one, but you also couldn’t deny that the sound of a soulmate sounded really nice and comforting. That someone out there existed to fit you, that you were born to love someone who was also meant to love you. You were sure that finding your soulmate wasn’t a dance on roses, it was sure to still be hard, frustrating and maybe even painful sometimes, but you also couldn’t just have all the good, there was a balance that was sure to exist within soulmates as well.

After hours of going through the raw footage from his video game play and slowly editing while watching it, you popped your shoulders and stretched your arms for a moment, yawning as you did so. Your hours were always a bit intense, but that couldn’t be helped when you had six hours of raw footage to work with. Looking at the clock you saw that it was 5.30PM which meant that soon Kenma would wake up from his pseudo-sleep (which was more like a nap in your opinion) to look at your process and ask what you wanted for dinner.

Soon after a soft knock was heard followed by the door opening slowly, Kenma standing in sweats and a hoodie with bags under his eyes, “do you like hotpot?” he asked, and you smiled at him, “sure, are you cooking tonight?” he yawned while he shook his head, “Kuroo is. He insists on a ‘fulfilling meal’, whatever that means.”

You giggled before beckoning Kenma in to see some of what you’ve done so far and making minor adjustments along the way. “Now, something smells delicious and I’m thirsty,” you stated after the two of you had talked a bit about the rest of the video’s plans. As you went towards the kitchen you could hear the sound of of a nameless tune being hummed, pans sizzling from something being cooked and kitchen utensils being used.

Inside, the table was already set with plates and prepared ingredients lying ready for the pot that Kuroo was just about to put on the table. It seemed he had made an endless supply of different side dishes and really put in a lot of work for it, so you looked really forward to eating it and it smelled delicious. You grabbed a glass from the set table and went to the sink to get some water and just as your hand reached it, Kuroo had extended his hand as well to the sink and you accidentally touched.

You both recoiled as if you had been burned and you couldn’t stop the gasp that accidentally left your lips. A feeling was rushing through your body you hadn’t experienced before and you immediately apologized to Kuroo and went back to the table, foregoing the water. You didn’t notice how Kuroo was frozen in place from when he touched you before Kenma called out to him and he immediately started moving again.

You ended up eating shortly after, Kuroo serving the food and talking animatedly about him and Kenma’s childhood, making you laugh quite a bit at their (or more, Kuroo’s) antics and their volleyball days. Kuroo was the type of person to make you relax in his presence and have fun which you didn’t even notice until you got home later that evening and really thought about what a great time you had had. You found yourself surprised by how easily you clicked with Kuroo, a total stranger. It must be his charm, you thought to yourself before going through your night routine. You had to come back tomorrow and finish work, after all. You estimated the video would take you a few more days to finish but that would end up fitting well with the weekend coming, so as you went to bed you felt yourself more relaxed than you had in a while.

_____

“What are they like?”

It was Friday and it seemed you had finished Kenma’s video and therefor you weren’t here for dinner – for the first time in a few days, which did let down Kuroo just a tiny bit. He had talked a lot with you during dinner preparations when you came out from the office and during dinner as well and while you did answer all his questions (which, he admitted, there were quite a few of them) and follow up with your own for him, it still felt… off… talking to you – and Kuroo didn’t like not knowing why. “What do you mean?” Kenma asked, taking another bite into his mouth.

Kenma swallowed a piece of meat before looking up at Kuroo who was stabbing his plate with his fork in what seemed like a useless purpose. He knew he was being a little weird but meeting you was weird, even though he had no reason to explain why.

“I mean, is this how they usually act?” He didn’t even know what that question meant or why he was even asking it, nothing made sense! But he had a desperate feeling that he needed to get to know you – he was afraid of what that implied and what suspicions he needed to hold onto, but he was sure it was his gut telling him you were dangerous for Kenma to be around – that had to be it! Kenma was his best friend, his childhood friend, it had to be a gut feeling meant to protect him!

“Who knows, they’re being more polite than usual, I think. But that makes sense,” Kenma replied calmly before adding, “I mean you are a stranger who’s really intent on being social with them over our dinners, they were a bit shy as well when I met them,”

Kuroo nodded and finally took a bite of his own food. He didn’t notice Kenma’s raised eyebrows or the questioning look that was sent his way, so Kenma decided to let the subject rest.

Not seeing you today felt weird to him too and he couldn’t help the irritation building up inside him – you had just met a few days ago and only in the evenings when he was done with work and ready to make dinner – and yet, the thought of you kept invading his mind. He had gotten through work today thinking you were going to be there for dinner so when he came home and found out you wouldn’t be there, the first seed of irritation had been planted – why was he suddenly looking so much forward to seeing you? Had it been like this yesterday too? Why was it suddenly important that you weren’t there? He ended up sitting in front of the laptop in the guest room for the rest of the evening, the document left open and completely untouched.

Kuroo, however, didn’t let the subject rest in his head for the rest of that evening. Hinata was in town, having time off after a big game yesterday so Kuroo was left to his own devices – which really wasn’t a problem considering he had to make the paperwork for a promotional deal for a meeting Monday morning that he had procrastinated making – which wasn’t like him at all, he usually never pushed assignments to last minute and he then realized the reason he wasn’t done yet was because he had spent so much time over the dinner table with Kenma and you, talking even after dinner had been done for a while. You always offered to help him with the clean-up so you also spent some time talking there, drifting off to various subjects far passing the cleaning duties and sitting down again with a glass of water.

He enjoyed your company, it felt... easy, somehow, the sensation that something was off was there but it didn’t really settle in his stomach until every time after you left, as if it was left to grow a bit from a small sensation to a problem, which worried him – Kuroo prided himself as an impeccable people-reader, he was captain for both the volleyball team in high school and college, he knew how to act around business relations so well because he could read them so flawlessly – so the feelings he got from you was unsettling and unreadable and it took some control away from him – and Kuroo always felt uneasy when he wasn’t in control.

____

Kuroo heard your name and almost got whiplash from how fast his head moved towards Kenma, “what?”

“I asked if we should invite them? To game night? Being three is a little annoying in Mario Party.”

“Oooh, that’s a good idea! I’d love to see them again!” Hinata happily exclaimed before taking another bite of the lasagna Kuroo had prepared tonight. It was Saturday and Kuroo had been in a daze the entire day, first at the office for a quick meeting with his boss about a potential partner he might be able to reel in soon and then doing his laundry at Kenma’s and continuing to try and make the stupid paperwork but ultimately failing before he had to make dinner.

“Isn’t it a bit late to invite someone? I mean, they could have plans already...” Kuroo tried, knowing what a pain it could be to be asked to something an hour before it happened and he didn’t want to let you go through that – that’s what he tried to tell himself, at least. In truth? He was a bit afraid of seeing you again, afraid of his potential reactions, since he had spent his entire Friday in a stupor just thinking about you. His thoughts didn’t mean much for Kenma and Hinata though, who was already texting you to ask. “Oi, no phones at the table, have you parents taught you no manners?” Kuroo chided and Hinata immediately shrank back and apologized – Kuroo smirked, yea the Chibi-chan still had respect for his seniors. But he was quickly pulled back to thoughts about you by Kenma’s phone lighting up again, “they’ll be here in an hour. They’re asking if they should bring anything?” Kenma looked up to gauge Kuroo’s reaction, having noticed something about his friend had been off the past few days. He immediately made a funny grimace before turning it into a smile. “Yea, they can bring a bottle of white wine, if I have to beat you all at Mario Party, I would very much like to be a tiny bit buzzed,” Kuroo said, and Hinata looked at him with wide eyes, “you drink wine!? So grown up!” Hinata exclaimed, to which Kenma just muttered, “or just an old man…” Kuroo didn’t hear that though, too busy to fidget with his hands under the table, suddenly feeling nervous that you were showing up.

Hinata plopped down between Kuroo and you with a controller in hand, “I’m gonna beat you all in this Mario Kart!” to which you laughed loudly, “good luck since we’re playing Mario Party.”

“Huh? Is there a difference?” Hinata asked, making Kuroo belt out a loud laugh as well, holding his stomach, “you just told us you’d beat us but you don’t even know what we’re playing!” Kuroo couldn’t contain his laughter for a bit until he noticed how you were looking at him and instantly retracted his laugh, sitting up straight with a cough, and apologizing for being loud, which confused him to no end. He had never been self-conscious of his own laugh! He knew it could be obnoxious and loud, but he also liked it himself, and-

“That’s a really cute laugh.”

The comment earned you the stares of the century from the three other people in the room, with Kenma in genuine shock – he wouldn’t say he disliked Kuroo’s laugh, just that it was… special.

“Uhm… Uh. Thank you?” Kuroo could feel that his blush went all the way to his ears but he hoped that the light in the living room wasn’t bright enough to catch it. “Yeah uh! Sure! Mhm,” you awkwardly coughed a bit as well before reaching for your glass of wine.

You had brought a bottle of white wine for Kuroo on the promise that you’d get a glass too, saying he was your first friend who also liked wine. The word ‘friend’ had dumb-founded him and he’d just answered “you can have it all,” to which you had laughed and said it’s fine with half, you weirdo.

The game was about to begin but Kuroo was still sitting stuck on the fact that his laugh was cute – cute? Had anyone else found it cute before besides Bokuto and his mom? He wasn’t sure – he sure couldn’t pinpoint them right now anyways. He tried to shake it off and focus on the game, though quite a bit of time was spent explaining the rules to Hinata who apparently had thought they were just playing Mario Kart.

When you were 12 laps into it, it seemed that you were set to win with your four stars and 121 coins. Kenma was right behind you with three stars and Hinata and Kuroo had been left in the dust with zero stars. You had stolen Kuroo’s first (and only) star early in the game, so he was plotting his vengeance in quiet but was getting afraid that the game would end before he could do anything to you – but just as his hopes were at the smallest during the last round of the game, you were put in the same team as him in the last mini game.

Kuroo had a wide smirk when you cheered and said, “this’ll be easy then!” because no, it would not be easy for you. If he had to go down in order to take you down a notch, then so be it. He’d rather Kenma win than you did with stolen goods!

The last mini game was “Tow the Line” where two players were put in a sewing box shaped with nine dots as a grid and two players tied together with a string and the objective was to make the shape with the string as shown in the middle of screen. As soon as the whistle sounded, Kuroo lowered his hands and stopped using his controllers, all with a big grin on his lips.

“Kuroo, what the fuck! Get moving, we’ve started!” you yelled at him as Kenma and Hinata won the first round, signaling the next round began, Kuroo started whistling and looking away from the screen, to which you got up from your seat, “fine, I’ll just take your controller and do it myself!”

Kuroo put his arm with the controller behind him, “nah-ah-ah! You’re not winning this, fiend! That’s what you get for stealing my star!” He grinned up at you with his eyes closed as you stood with your hands on your hips, “come on man! I stole that star in the fourth round! Kenma stole a star from me as well!” you tried, “maybe he stole the one that was yours, who knows! Get over it so we can win!”

But as soon as you’d said that, the third round had just been won and you sighed and flopped down on your seat again, “not cool Kuroo, not cool. I’ll remember this!”

You both laughed as the game made ready to announce the winner, Kenma and Hinata entertained by your antics.

“You can’t avenge something that I avenged in the first place! I only did it because you did me wrong, you know!”

“You can’t use logic on me, it doesn’t apply!”

To no surprise, you won the entire game, even winning one of the two bonus stars given at the end of the game.

After the last sequence and a bow from you there was a quick break before you decided to play some Mario Kart for Hinata’s sake, since his argument was that he lost due it being Party instead. You played quite a few hours and after another toilet break you had switched places with Hinata so Kenma could cuddle up against him. You yawned, drinking the last of the wine in your glass and said, “I should head home, I have a friend coming over for lunch tomorrow.”

Hinata and Kenma both started to get up to say goodnight but you waved at them with a smile, “I can walk out myself, it’s fine!” But Kuroo had already gotten up from the couch as well, so you walked with him towards the hallway where you put on your shoes. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you, which Kuroo noted and scowled a bit - he might have only known you for less than a week but for some reason he felt like it had been a lot longer, like you were old friends – it felt strange, to be so close with a stranger. He didn’t know anything about you, really. He knew your name, your job and how you liked some of your vegetables and which meat was your favorite, he knew you also loved cats but didn’t have one (he couldn’t remember if he knew why) and he felt pretty sure he would recognize you in a crowded area – why it was so intense, he was unsure of, he hadn’t tried meeting someone this way before. It had also seemed like having this game night had made you considerably more relaxed in his presence, even joking around with him instead of being polite, which made Kuroo somewhat giddy, though it didn’t really make sense to him as to why.

“I hope you had fun,” Kuroo said awkwardly, as if he had been the host and scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, I did! I’m sorry I stole your star, though,” you laughed, buttoning your jacket.

“Nah, no worries, as they say, all’s fair in love and war, right?”

You giggled and picked up your bag from the dresser while Kuroo opened up the door for you. As you exited, you turned around with a bright smile, “well, thanks for toni-”

Everything ended up a blur, too bright, too much, too noisy, too… colorful? Kuroo was still looking into your eyes as all that went through him, completely blindsided. As he took a proper look, he could see that you looked just as surprised as him, your eyes wide but still never leaving his either.

“Is… Is this? Are you? Is…” You asked after what felt like both days and milliseconds, I could stare at them so much longer, he thought to himself, the colors only making your face more clear to him. Had you really not had eye contact at all? Had you seen each other for several hours – more than a few times, without looking each other in the eyes at all? Kuroo was more baffled by this happening so late than the fact that it was happening.

He was about to say something, anything, when you promptly turned around, nervously yelling, “I-I uh, I gotta go! Goodbye!” as you hurried out of the driveway and down towards the subway.

“W-wait!” Kuroo belatedly and unhelpfully yelled out as you turned a corner, too late. You were gone. A hand was dragged down his face as a sigh left him, what the fuck had just happened? He obviously needed to talk to you about this, but he also needed to gather his thoughts about all of this, so he slowly closed the door and went back towards the living room, greeted by Hinata and Kenma who looked up at him curiously, “why did you yell?” Hinata asked with his head tilted.

“I think I just found my soulmate.”

#haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsurou x you #kuroo tetsurou x reader #hq x reader #waaaaah im so nervous about this!!!! i basically cranked it out in less than 24hrs ngl.... i had 1.5k of beautiful words before i came u #P WITH A WHOLE OTHER PLOT!!!! :-)#if any of u get the ref of the title i love u and we need to play mp together lmao <33333 #also kenhina and tsukiyachi is mentioned!#both reader and kuroo r A MESS #stay tuned for part 2!!!!!!#nohr.writing #half the battle series #im gonna dig a hole real quick to hide in hehehe #honestly im not sure this is entirely coherent i had so much.... i wanted to force into it im afraid some of it feels out of place but!!!#here we go!! face the fear lmao!!!!

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