#avoiding the last section though pls

[cy-cyborg]

Writing amputees: Phantom limb sensation/Phantom Limb pain

This was something I got asked about a lot whenever I made videos about amputee representation, so let's talk about Phantom Limb Sensation (PLS) and Phantom Limb Pain (PLP).

TW: Description of surgical amputation process. section with this content can be skipped and the start/end will be clearly marked.

What is it and what causes it?

Phantom Limb Sensation is when you can feel a limb, even after it's been amputated. This phantom limb is a VERY common side effect of amputation, one that almost every amputee experiences at some point. Depending on how the limb was amputated, how old the person was at the time and the condition of the limb before amputation, it can last for as little as a year to being a life-long condition.

it's caused by the part of your brain responsible for proprioception - the sense of where your body is in space. Your brain has an internal map of your body and specifically your nervous system, and it uses this to determine where certain body parts are in space, even without input from your 5 main senses, meaning you don't need to look to know where, say, your leg or hand is (usually, though other disabilities like autism and ADHD can affect this and make it less accurate). Usually, the brain senses where your body parts are using a combination of this map and input from nerves. But if something happens to your body part, that internal map can have a lot of trouble updating, and when the internal map and the nerve inputs don't match, it can cause your brain to panic and fill in the gaps from the missing input signals, creating the sensation that a lost body part, usually a limb, is still there. For some, the limb light be locked in place, other might have the sensation of the limb "growing back" (though as I understand it, this typically only happens to very young children) and others feel as though the limb is perfectly fine and moving along with the rest of the body normally.

This sensation isn't unique to people who have lost limbs mind you: some trans people who have had top or bottom surgery, people who've had mastectomies, and even people who have had growths or tumours removed often report a similar sensation of their removed parts still being present, though it's not usually as intense and fades after a few months to a few years on its own with minimal intervention, leading to it being categorized as a separate phenomenon to Phantom Limbs in these cases.

Phantom Limb Pain is an extension of phantom limb sensation, caused by the body's more extreme reaction to the same phenomenon. The exact reason why it occurs isn't known, but in many people, instead of feeling a persistent pressance of a limb that's no longer there, they will feel discomfort or pain radiating from the lost limb. For some people, it might be an itch on the phantom limb they can't scratch, for others, the pain can feel like intense "pins and needles" all over the lost limb, others feel an electric "zap" running through the non-existent nerves, live they've grabbed a low-voltage electic fence, some people feel a dull, pounding pain, like the lost limb is being crushed or pushed into positions it shouldn't be able to go into (e.g. someone who had their knee amputated might feel the joint bending in the wrong direction). Some people experience all of these, some only experience one. Everyone will be different.

How is it treated?

Like with many things in life, prevention is better than a cure. certain measures can be taken to lessen the intensity of PLP and PLS before it can even start.

Gore TW: description of the process of surgical amputations, skip to the "----" divider to avoid.

People who have had amputations in the last 10 years will go through a slightly different procedure than those who had amputations before then. Historically, the limb would be amputated by cutting directly through the limb and either sewn shut or by having a skin graft where tissue is used to create a "cap" at the end of the stump. These methods worked, but left nothing for the nerves to connect to once everything was healed, leading the brain to think the reason for the lack of signal from the limb is that the limb was simply broken. Not only can this cause added intensity to the nerve pain, and increase the risk of something called a neuroma, where the nerves attempt to mend the "break" and continue to grow until they hit the surface of the skin, causing them to bundle up and get tangled, creating a feed back loop and amplifying any signal from the area to unbearable levels (including phantom sensations).

Today though, when conditions allow, amputations are done by cutting through the limb as before, then once the skin layers are reached on the other side, surgeons cut downward, creating a long tab of skin which is pulled over the bottom of the stump and reattached to the front. This allows the major nerve pathways in the limb to connect with each other during the healing process, creating a loop in the nerves and tricking the brain into thinking it's still receiving signals from the amputated limb.

Those who had their amputations prior to this change in the procedure can have a similar operation done to achieve a similar effect, though in both cases, it doesn't always work and can lead to the brain producing very very strange phantom limb sensations. In my personal case, it creates a sensation that I can feel my own skin in the region as though it was something separate from the rest of the body, almost like I'm wearing a sock. Very odd, and honestly kind of cursed lol.

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If prevention isn't an option though, different treatments exist.

One popular method is through compression. what's left of the amputated limb (called the stump) will be either wrapped in very strong compression bandages or the person can wear a fitted compression sock on the stump. This is usually done for the first 6-12 weeks after the amputation, though it can be done for longer under the supervision of a rehab specialist in some circumstances. After 6 weeks, 6-12 weeks, the stump will have healed enough for a prosthetic to be fitted. After this point, the person is encouraged to wear the prosthetic or at least the liner, usually made from silicone in modern prosthetics instead of a compression sock/bandage. The liners of the prosthetic offer milder compression, as does the socket of the prosthetic itself, and the "snug" feeling can, for some, make the phantom pain more bearable and the phantom sensation less frequent (though some people experience the opposite and will have increased PLP/PLS while adjusting to the prosthetic, though it usually subsides eventually).

For leg amputees specifically, they are encouraged to walk on their new prosthetics as much as possible, as the action of walking with the prosthetic will often trigger the phantom limb to start moving in time with the rest of the leg, and the sensation of walking can essentially trick the brain into using the phantom limb sensation to help the person walk more naturally and feel less unstable.

Another treatment is called Mirror Therapy, though this only works for single-limb amputees or arm and leg amputees who's amputations were on the same side (e.g. both left leg and left arm). The person puts their full remaining limb in front of a mirror and their amputated limb behind the mirror, then angles themselves so it appears that their full limb being reflected in the mirror is replacing the lost limb. If the person is experiencing an itch on their lost limb, they can scratch the full one, and look into the mirror. Eventually, your brain will feel the scratching sensation on the phantom limb instead.

If none of these options work, nerve pain medications such as gabapentin can be prescribed, though this is usually a last resort as these medications can have serious side effects and can prevent people from being able to do certain jobs or even drive depending on the dosage. As an absolute last resort, an injection can be given to the person to numb the stump. This does not stop the pain completely, but it does subdue it, though many doctors warn against this as it often means the person will not be able to feel if their stump is injured and can result in infected, untreated wounds.

Unfortunately, there is no "cure" yet, and many amputees just learn to live with PLP and PLS.

What things make you more or less likely to experience PLP/PLS?

There are some things that can make you more or less likely to experience PLP and PLS, and that can effect how intensely you experience them.

Your age when you lost the limb

People who are born without the limb almost never experience PLP and PLS, as their brain's internal map already knows the limb isn't there. Likewise, children who lost their limb very early in life don't usually experience PLS very intensely, or for very long, and are less likely to experience PLP at all. This is because when you are young, your brain is already updating that internal map because you're growing, so it has an easier time understanding the fact the limb isn't there anymore. Young brains are also constantly changing and growing, making them more adaptable in general to acquiring major disabilities. On the flip-side someone who lost their limb late in life is more likely to experience PLP and PLS for the rest of their lives. It can be managed, but it will likely always be pressant. Thier brains have not really needed to make any major updates to that map, often for decades, and are not really built to be able to do that, meaning PLP and PLS will likely take longer to go away, if they ever go away at all.

How you lost it and the condition of the limb before it was amputated.

If you lost your limb due to trauma, meaning events like accidents or major injury, the phantom sensation you experience will likely be much more painful, and could even feel like the injury or accident is happening over and over again. For example, someone who lost their arm to a shark attack might feel the sensation of the shark's teeth biting into it as well as the sensations described in the first section.

Alternatively, someone who had their limb amputated due to a pre-existing condition might continue to feel that condition even after the limb is gone. As a personal example, I've had multiple amputations throughout my life, but my most recent was due to a bone infection that formed at the bottom of my stump from a previous amputation. Now, when I experience phantom limb sensation, I can still feel where the infection reached the surface (where the nerves began to feel something was wrong). I had that leg amputated through the ankle as a young child, and when it was re-amputated higher up due to the infection, I didn't feel the whole leg, just the pre-existing stump.

Post Amputation Care

If a person does not receive proper medical care immediately after an amputation, their phantom sensation and pain will be significantly worse. My great Grandfather for example, lost part of his hand during WW2, but due to the situation, was not able to receive adequate medical care once he was established due to the medics being preoccupied with the actively dying. As a result of this and the traumatic nature of how he lost it in the first place, he experienced very intense phantom pain for the majority of his life. This is also important to keep in mind if your story takes place before the modern age, as it wasn't really understood how important post-amputation care was until recently, and many folks were left to just figure it out themselves.

Time

As with all things, phantom pain and phantom sensation fade with time. They may not ever go away entirely, but they do fade in intensity at least a little. This is especially important to keep in mind for characters with beyond-human lifespans. Your elderly grandmother character might not live long enough for their phantom pain to fade entirely, but your immortal vampire who's been alive for a millennia and lost their arm when they were human probably will.

Closing things to keep in mind

Wow, that was longer than I was expecting but I hope you found this all helpful. One last thing to keep in mind is that oftentimes, amputees who do experience PLS/PLP get pretty good at managing it, so you don't have to worry about it too much unless the amputation happens during the story itself or you want to make it a focus, this is just an explanation of what you can include if you like. Personally, though, I feel like it's an aspect of being an amputee that a lot of media rep overlooks, so it would be nice to see some more representation at least mention it. It doesn't have to be constant, but some brief comments or something of the like will go a long way.

[dollysilena]

TRAINING WHEELS

CHAPTER FOUR | THE START OF SOMETHING NEW

ao3 I series masterlist | previous chapter I next chapter

five years ago, you stupidly had a fling with inarizaki athlete, miya atsumu- now, present day- he had a son he knew nothing about. you made sure it was going to stay that way, but as fate would have it, he unexpectedly stumbled back into your lives, now as volleyball's biggest star.

wc & notes: 9.5k words (i am FRIED) — they said it couldn’t be done, but consider the “doesn’t update anymore” allegations BEAT. longer writers note on ao3 LMAO. pls enjoy and ignore any errors i am dying guys

“I can’t believe you never told me!”

You tossed a bag of apples into the grocery cart.

“You knew I had a crush on Miya Atsumu ever since I saw him shirtless on last year’s Vogue Japan cover! How could you not say anything?!”

You pretended to inspect a carrot thoroughly. Naomi wasn’t convinced. She knew you didn’t even like carrots.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

You started pushing the cart faster.

“Well, if you’re not going to answer, can you at least tell me if he was good in bed?”

The grocery cart came to a screeching halt as your eyes widened like saucers. The piercing sound made both of you wince as the supermarket stocker dropped a handful of vegetables from shock. You hurriedly scurried away to another section of the grocery store while Naomi trailed after you.

“I take that as a yes?” Naomi chuckled nervously. You stared daggers at her before your friend took the silent hint to shut up.

“Naomi,” you sighed, continuing through the snacks aisle. “It’s not exactly easy telling people the father of your son is Japan’s biggest athlete. Don’t take it the wrong way, I never meant for anyone to find out,” 

“But you can see how that played out,” you continued trying to avoid making a grimace, but your face couldn’t help it.

Naomi nodded quietly. “I’m sorry for prying.”

“It’s alright,” you rolled your eyes. “And yes, he was good. Though, it was in a bathroom.”

Naomi let out a shriek that sounded vaguely like your name as you continued through the grocery store. 

It’s odd, you thought, your world was flipped upside down and nobody would be none the wiser. The past twenty four hours was whiplashing. Not only had your past fling turned volleyball superstar, not to mention the father of your child, reappeared in your life, he was here to stay. You had always assumed if your dirty little secret were to get out, the floodgates would wash your carefully constructed life away and that nothing would be the same. And in a way, it was, but there you were, grocery shopping with Naomi on a quiet Tuesday morning like nothing had happened.

You could still hardly believe it, honestly. The moment you realized you were going to be a mother five years ago, you imagined that the rest of your life after you looked at that positive pregnancy test would be without him. You assumed that he would prioritize his budding career, his passion for volleyball, above you. You were just some girl he had a fling with after all. Why would he throw away the promising life he had for you? But, for reasons you couldn’t fathom, he ended up choosing to stay. And willingly. He could’ve walked out the moment he stepped foot into Onigiri Miya, but he didn’t.

It made you wonder, would he have made the same decision five years ago? To stay? Would things have been different now if you had him by your side then? 

Did you make a mistake not telling him all those years ago?

Naomi’s voice broke your thoughts. “How’s your baby daddy doing with the whole ‘new parent’ thing anyway?”

You instinctively cringed. “Please never call him that again.”

“Well, what else would I call him?”

You rolled your eyes as you tossed a bag of Haru’s favorite chips into the cart.

“Well, all things considered, he’s doing okay. I think.” 

You weren’t really sure, typically, one doesn’t have a secret family pop up from nowhere.

“And how are you doing with your baby daddy?” Naomi continued.

You ignored the nickname, much to your dismay, you guessed it wasn’t going anywhere soon. You thought back to the question for several moments, but there just wasn’t anything that could begin to describe what on earth was going on in your mind.

“I don’t know,” you stated simply. “It’s weird knowing he’s going to be around, I guess.”

“Weird?” Naomi repeated, tilting her head. “I thought it was a good thing?”

“It definitely is,” you replied, before sighing. “I just… don’t know how to be around Atsumu.”

You never meant for him to be in your life in the first place, so you weren’t sure where he was going to fit now that he was in it, for better or for worse.

“Well, I’m sure he’s feeling the same way too,” Naomi reassured. “Maybe you should bring up spending more time with one another. Get to know each other, y’know?”

You paused, maybe that wasn’t a half bad idea. You pushed your cart to the checkout lane.

Despite Atsumu having an early morning the next day, he didn’t sleep the entire night after returning home from your apartment. And who could blame him? He had too much to think about. On the bright side, he had an early start to his morning unlike the day before. He thought that maybe by being earlier for practice he would get out of his coach’s scolding, but Coach Foster was already waiting for him at the gymnasium despite him arriving a whole hour early.

“You better have a good explanation for running out on practice yesterday, especially with the start of the season so close!” Coach Foster scowled with his arms crossed the moment Atsumu sheepishly walked into the gymnasium.

Atsumu sucked in his teeth and hoped he would believe the events of the prior night. Guess he would just have to find out…

Five minutes later, inside one of the secluded offices inside the gymnasium and away from prying ears, Coach Foster’s jaw was hanging open in a mixture of shock, horror, and disbelief. Truthfully, he considered filing for early retirement right then and there.

“You’re telling me you have a son?” Coach Foster asked in a hushed whisper. Atsumu nodded and the man gave a heavy sigh as he rubbed his temples.

“Honestly, Atsumu…” 

Coach Foster sighed deeply as he rubbed his temples. In his time as a professional sports coach, he had seen his fair share of scandals amongst his athletes, but this one might’ve taken the cake. Initially, he hadn’t believed him, chalking it up to one of his usual pranks, but Atsumu’s conviction was deathly serious. Not to mention the picture he handed him was jarring. The boy looked just like him. 

“I hope that you know what a massive responsibility this is,” Coach Foster said, beginning his lecture. He was honestly still in disbelief over the news his setter broke to him. And honestly, he was debating if what he was hearing was even true, picture or not. 

“I didn’t have my first child until I was in my thirties, you’re still only twenty-three, and not to mention still a little immature–”

“I’m gonna be a part of his life no matter what,” Atsumu stated firmly, cutting him off. 

Usually he knew better than speaking against his senior, but he quickly came to his own defense. 

“I wasn’t there in the beginnin’, so I’m gonna make up for lost time and be there for Haru.”

The Coach was taken aback by Atsumu’s tone, before shaking his head with a chuckle. He had known the setter for some quite some time, being there to see the progression of his career from when he started the league until now. He had never quite taken the young setter seriously when it came to real life experiences, he was still so young after all, but he would almost say he was proud of Atsumu for stepping up. But time would tell if he could fill in the shoes of a father.

“I believe in you,” Foster simply said. “But this does raise a few issues though.”

“Like what?”

“Well, we are going to have to talk to the PR team about this. You’re one of Japan’s most famous athletes right now, and you have paparazzi hounding your every move. It would probably be in the best interest of your son and the mother to stay under the radar until you find a way to announce this publicly without sparking controversy, which is already difficult enough considering the circumstances.”

Atsumu thought silently. In the midst of all the chaos, he hadn’t thought yet how his career could negatively affect you and Haru. He wasn’t sure how he would handle it yet, but he could feel a protective surge in his chest.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure this is handled discreetly,” Coach Foster said.

Atsumu thanked the man, before being instructed to return to practice. As the door closed, Coach Foster sighed deeply, he sure had his work cut out for him.

As Atsumu entered the gym, he was almost immediately bombarded by his teammates. Bokuto and Hinata practically tackled him down the moment he stepped into practice.

“”Tsumu! Where’d you go last night?” Bokuto exclaimed, appearing at his side. “I wanted to practice my spikes with you!”

“Coach was mad,” Hinata shivered beside him. “He said he’d make you run triple the amount of laps today–” Atsumu gulped at the thought of the coach’s training being even more intensive than it already was.

“”Samu had a problem at the restaurant and needed some help,” Atsumu replied as nonchalantly he could. It wasn’t entirely false but it sure as hell wasn’t a good lie either. But before Hinata and Bokuto could press more, Coach Foster bounded out of his office.

“Enough small talk! We need to start our warm ups.” Coach Foster announced. Atsumu nearly sighed in relief, until he realized he was probably going to be worked to the bone.

The rest of practice went on as usual, except for Coach Foster making the session more grueling for Atsumu in particular. He bit back his complaints, already knowing this wouldn’t be the last of his coach’s discipline for him. He probably deserved it, anyway. 

Later, after a practice what Atsumu could only call torturous, Coach Foster blew his whistle and beckoned the team over.

“It seems I have an unexpected meeting with the PR representatives,” Coach Foster announced, “so we’re going to call off practice early today!”

Atsumu caught a glare from Coach Foster that could unmistakably only be meant for him. He hoped nobody else caught it or the fact his face was mortified, but thankfully everybody else on the team seemed too busy celebrating the abrupt end to practice. 

“Take the rest of the day to recover, that’s all!”

Atsumu practically felt the weight on his shoulders dissipate as he headed for the lockerroom. His bones were aching at that point, and the only thing he wanted to do was collapse onto one of the benches. He went into his locker and dug his phone out of his practice bag. Going through his notifications, he was surprised to see his first message was from you.

You (12:35pm):

hey, how do you feel about spending more time together?

You (12:35pm):

to get used to being around each other i mean

You (12:36pm):

sorry, i don’t really know how to go about this

You (12:37pm):

my bad, you’re busy at practice probably

You (12:37pm):

sorry, just ignore this

He quickly wrote back.

Atsumu (12:45pm):

nono, don’t worry, i just got out of practice actually

Atsumu (12:45pm):

i don’t how to go about this either, but i would love to spend more time with ya and haru

Exhaustion long forgotten, Atsumu grabbed his bag and headed out of the gym with a noticeable smile on his face.

You groaned as you slumped down on the staircase of your apartment complex. Of course the elevator decided to go out of service when you had an entire weeks worth of groceries to bring up. You barely had made it up to floor three before you decided to give up. Now, you were collapsed onto the step of the stairs surrounded by what seemed to be an endless sea of bags. How were you going to make it up another seven flights?

You heard footsteps behind you, presumably from someone who was also inconvenienced by the lack of elevators. 

“Sorry,” you groaned as you got to your feet as you collected up one of the bags. “I was just taking a break from taking up these damn groceries–”

“Do ya need help?” You perked up, you certainly weren’t in a position to say no.

You looked up to thank the stranger for their offer and are met with Atsumu instead. Miya Atsumu, who definitely doesn’t live in your building.

What on earth?-- Oh no. Oh no. He thought your message about spending more time together meant today. You were so caught up in bringing up your groceries that you hadn’t bothered to check your phone to see his response.

You were suddenly all too aware of the sweatpants you haphazardly threw on and the shirt you’re pretty sure Haru stained with paint from his fingerpainting phase last month. You won’t even begin on whatever hairstyle you haphazardly did this moring. You were under the impression that all you were doing was going to the supermarket with Naomi so you didn’t bother getting properly dressed. Now you were standing infront of him a sweaty mess as he looks as if he just walked off a magazine shoot with his fresh-out-of-a-workout glow, designer tracksuit, and practice bag swung effortlessly over his shoulder. 

“Hey!” You quickly said, not prepared to greet him as you clutched tightly onto the bag full of produce in your hands. “I didn’t– uh– expect you to come today.”

Atsumu’s eyebrows creased in confusion before the realization flashed on his face.

“Oh! Ya meant for that message to be in general.” Atsumu exclaimed, and he looked noticeably embarrassed. “Sorry, I just thought–”

“Nono!” You stammered, trying to collect yourself. “It’s okay, I’m off today anyways. Besides, I need help with these bags.” Atsumu cracked a smile at you before reaching down to grab a handful of bags, which was alot more than you could carry by yourself. 

“Here, let me take these too,” he offered, extending his hands out to take the bag in your hands.

“You don’t have to take them all, y’know,” you replied. The poor man already had about four in his arms already. Though, he was carrying the heavy bags without even straining himself, unlike yourself. A rigorous workout schedule would do that, you suppose

“Consider this the first of many repayments,” he chuckled as he took a bag out of your hands. You felt yourself tense when you felt his fingers skim over your hand, and you had to clutch onto the bag tighter for it not to tumble out of your hands. 

You forgot about how stupidly charming he was. It’s what got you into this mess in the first place.

Once you both situated yourselves, you lugged up the stairs and finally reached your apartment. You were noticeably more out of breath than Atsumu was, who didn’t seem to break a sweat despite carrying up twice the amount of bags you did. 

“I guess all that professional athlete training came in handy,” you snorted as you went to unlock the door.

“Coach made sure to put me through it this mornin’ for the stunt I pulled yesterday,” he chuckled. “Guess it was good trainin’ for carryin’ up all these bags.”

“I guess I’ll have to keep you around for my next grocery trip,” you snickered as you placed your bags in the kitchen as Atsumu followed.

“I’ll be here for as many trips as ya need.”

The comment was meant to be innocent, but it nearly made you stop in your tracks. You knew he was here to stay from your conversation the night before, but hearing him affirm it was unexpected. It still hadn’t sunk in yet. A day ago, Miya Atsumu was a distant memory, and today he was standing in your kitchen helping you bring in groceries. Would you ever get used to this? 

“Where’s Haru?” Atsumu asked, looking around to see no trace of the small boy. 

“School,” you answered as you began to unpack the bags onto your counter. “I have a few hours until I have to go pick him up if you wanna join me.”

“Of course,” he replied with a quick eagerness, “what do ya wanna do until then?”

Shit, you didn’t think about the fact you would be with Atsumu alone for the time being. 

Alone. With your ex-fling. 

Who you refused to admit is starting to make your heart beat a little faster.

Suppressing any of the silly leftover schoolgirl feelings you still harbored, you reminded yourself that Atsumu was kind out of courtesy of the situation between you two. You two are still strangers, fling aside. 

Before you could open your mouth to answer, your stomach decided to interrupt the conversation with a undeniable grumble. You immediately grabbed your stomach in attempt to silence it, but there was no way Atsumu didn’t hear it. Your face flushed, and you regretted sleeping in and deciding to skip breakfast that morning.

“I think that means ya want lunch.” You wanted the earth to swallow you whole.

“I’m mortified, but that sounds great right about now,” you nervously laughed. “I can cook us something–”

“I can’t let ya cook, it’s yer day off!” Atsumu interjected as if he were offended you would suggest such an idea. “C’mon, let me take ya out.”

“Atsumu, I look like a mess right now,” you chuckled, looking down at your clothes. “I don’t think–”

“Ya look great so that’s not an excuse,” he interjected and you’re taken aback from the sudden compliment. Surely you couldn’t look that great with your old college t-shirt decorated in paint splatters. But Atsumu looked adamant in his statement with the way he was staring you down. 

“C’mon, it doesn’t have to be anythin’ fancy,” he insisted. “We could just go to Osamu’s, on me.”

Your stomach was practically begging for attention at that point and you groaned, knowing it was too good an offer to pass down. Not to mention, you couldn’t keep holding eye contact with him without melting onto the floor. It’s almost intimidating, the way he won’t back down. 

“Alright, alright, but let me change at least.”

“Good,” Atsumu grinned as you scurried off into your bedroom.

You quickly got changed into a pair of jeans and the first decent shirt you spotted in your closet. It’s simple, but a pretty shade of green with a flattering neckline. You knew the lunch wasn’t going to be anything fancy, but it didn’t stop you from putting on the jewelry you had sitting on your dresser and swiping on some lip gloss. You gave yourself a quick look in the mirror, not bad in ten minutes.

You headed back to the kitchen where you left Atsumu, who was sitting at the counter as he absentmindedly scrolled on his phone. 

“C’mon Miya, you owe me lunch,” you chimed as you grabbed your keys off the table.

Atsumu looked up and you swore he opened up his mouth to say something, but immediately clammed up.

“What is it?” You asked, tilting your head. He suddenly seemed nervous, which was a stark difference from his calm demeanor not even a second ago.

“Ya– uh– just look nice, let’s go.”

Before you could react, Atsumu was already heading for the door. 

Stupidly and annoyingly charming. 

You hoped this meal wouldn’t be the death of you.

The elevators seemed to be back in service as Atsumu had already called it up by the time you locked the door and made your way to him down the hall.

It’s just lunch, you had to tell yourself as you both got inside quietly. Don’t be so nervous. But it didn’t stop your hands from fidgeting as you watched the elevator floor level slowly descend down before dinging at the first floor. 

You both exited and you barely made it a few steps out the front door before you heard the beep of a car. You turned beside you to spot arguably the flashiest sports car you’ve ever seen parked next to your quaint apartment building. It seemed as though it came right from the dealership with it’s perfect white paint job and bright gleam. It couldn’t belong to anyone but the professional athlete himself beside you. That V-League paycheck must be cushy.

“Wow.” It was pretty much all you could say. 

“I got it when I first went pro,” he chuckled as he brought you to the passenger side. “Kind of an impulsive decision.”

You snorted as he opened the door for you and let you inside. “I thought this lunch was supposed to be casual.”

“As casual as it can be, considerin’ the circumstances,” he said as he got into the drivers seat and you rolled your eyes. Right, nothing about this was casual. 

“I probably gotta get somethin’ different soon though,” he noted as he turned on the engine and the car revved to life.

“Why’s that?”

“Not enough room for a carseat in the back,” he responded simply as he pulled the car out. “Or would it be a booster seat? I’m not really sure.”

You were taken aback. “You already thought of that?--”

“‘Course I did,” Atsumu replied like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Thought ‘bout it on my way over here.”

You knew Atsumu was serious when he said he wanted to make a commitment, but you just didn’t think he’d be ready for change so quickly. If he was already thinking about getting a whole new car just for the sake of a booster seat, what else was he ready to change? Co-parenting wasn’t something you ever considered, much less planned for. You shook it off, knowing you were getting ahead of yourself. Right now was just lunch, and that was all. You busied yourself with looking out the window as you watched the streets go by.

“How long have ya been in Osaka?” He asked, eyes focused on the road.

“A little before Haru was born,” you answered. “Before that I lived with my grandmother in Kagawa before she passed, and after that I moved to Osaka because I knew their university had a babysitting service for parents getting their degrees.”

“So about five years?”

“Just about, why do you ask?”

“I’ve been in Osaka since I went pro after high school…” Atsumu mumbled and there’s a noticeable regret in his tone. “I just can’t believe I never knew ya were here.”

“Atsumu, don’t beat yourself up,” you sighed, looking away from the window and back at him. “It’s an enormous city and I was purposefully avoiding you the entire time.”

Though you tried to reassure him, his demeanor was still crestfallen as he drove.

“Y’know, I even avoided sports stores because I was scared I’d run into you there. Haru’s gym teacher hates me because I never get his uniforms on time.”

The last line made Atsumu snort and you’re glad he didn’t seem as dejected. “And what if I was there?”

“I actually had to go last month to pick up sneakers for Haru,” you rolled your eyes. “They had a lifesize cardboard display of you and I thought it was actually you. I ran away so quickly the cashier thought I was a thief.”

You manage to get a smile to crack through Atsumu after all. You realize you eventually made it to Osamu’s restaurant as Atsumu parked beside it. Before you could even manage to open your door, Atsumu had already made it to the passenger door outside and opened it for you.

“You know you don’t need to do that,” you chuckled as you climbed out.

“Nah, but I wanna.”

Your heart needed to stop doing whatever the hell it was doing in your chest.

It seemed like you weren’t going to win as Atsumu made sure to open the restaurant door for you as well. You walked inside as the bell chimed on the door as you spotted Osamu behind the front counter.

“Could ya please stop coming in here durin’ my breaktime?!” Osamu barked as he tossed the towel strewn over his shoulder directly at his brother’s head. “I need to start lockin’ the damn doors because of ya!”

“How else can I eat in privacy?” Atsumu whined, grabbing the towel off his face. “I haven’t recovered from the time the tabloids posted all those pictures of me eatin’ your onigiri!”

“It’s because ya ate eight in one sittin’!” Osamu exclaimed, before noticing you standing behind Atsumu. He immediately composed himself from his previous hostility. “Oh, I didn’t realize ya were here.”

“Hi,” you waved meekly. “Sorry for coming in, I had no idea you were on break.”

Osamu scratched the back of his head, slightly embarrassed. “No worries, I’m used to this moron bargin’ in here anyways. Take a seat and I’ll fix ya somethin’.”

You both got sat in one of the nearby booths as Osamu got you settled before heading into the back kitchen to get started on cooking. The restaurant was empty, and you realized Atsumu’s habit of coming in during Osamu’s breaktime was probably so he could eat in privacy.

“Oi, ‘Samu!” Atsumu called into the nearby kitchen. “Make some extra gyoza!”

“Oh, that’s my favorite!” You exclaimed. You were practically starving at this point, so the mention of the food made your mouth water.

“Ya always packed some for lunch back in high school, right?” Atsumu noted. It was true, if you didn’t pack any from home, you would sneak out to the convenience store to buy some instead.

“How on earth do you remember that?” You snorted. His memory was spot-on, especially since high school felt like eons ago.

Atsumu shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Is your favorite food still tuna?”

“How’d ya know that?” Atsumu asked, noticeably surprised, as if he didn’t remember the detail about you moments ago.

“Haru eats it all the time, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree apparently,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “He’s like a mini you.”

Atsumu smiled softly and looked at his hands placed onto the table. He was fiddling with his fingers, roughed up probably from all the time he played volleyball. He seemed nervous.

“He is?” He said, almost shyly. Not like the typically confident guy he was.

“Yup,” you answered, resting your hand on your face. “Earlier when you were bickering with Osamu, it reminds me of when Haru starts to whine.”

“Really?” He asked excitedly, before his face flashed with realization. “Wait, hey!--”

You laughed as Atsumu scoffed but it seemed more like a pout with the way he jutted out his lip and furrowed his eyebrows. It made you think about how uncanny the two looked. You couldn’t help but smile as Atsumu turned back to you, his face still a bit peeved at your earlier jab. 

“I still feel like I don’t know enough about ya still,” Atsumu noted.

You paused. Five years of avoidance would do that… But now it was different. You didn’t have to force the distance anymore unlike before.

“That doesn’t matter, does it? We aren’t in a rush to.”

Atsumu smiled at you again and you felt your heart still. “No, we’re not.”

Whenever he looked at you, you became acutely aware just how present Atsumu was. It almost didn’t seem real. He wasn’t just some image you saw from afar, like interviews on TV or in magazines you saw at the convenience store. And somehow, he wasn’t leaving or running away like you thought he would be. Nothing was separating you, he was infront of you and here with you. 

And as happy as it made you, it scared you just as much.

“You haven’t told me anything about yourself,” you noted, wanting to change the topic. “I feel like I’m doing all the talking here.”

Atsumu shrugged. “My life’s pretty much an open book, what do ya wanna know?”

Atsumu was right, he was in the limelight even before he went pro. Anything you wanted to know about him was probably written somewhere online by fans or reporters. You remembered that back in high school, he was already getting recognized by national recruiters, not to mention having an army of fangirls. You vaguely remembered them giving you– and any other girl– shit for even breathing in his general direction, you couldn’t imagine what they would have done to you had they known you both were secretly hooking up. You weren’t sure how Atsumu always kept his composure despite majority of his life being constantly under a microscope. 

You, for one, wouldn’t know how to handle it, and it was partially the reason you hid from him for so long. You wondered how long you could hide from the watchful eyes on Atsumu. At some point, they would be on you.

“Is it hard?” You blurted out.

Atsumu paused at your sudden statement. “What is?”

Maybe it wasn’t appropriate for you to be asking something personal for what was supposed to be a casual luncheon, but it the question already came out of your mouth.

“Being famous. Doesn’t it get tiring having to be watched all the time?”

You half expected Atsumu to crack some wise joke about how he was meant to be famous, his boisterous confidence was undoubtedly star-material after all, but he paused again. You noticed him looking at the wall behind you, and you turned over your shoulder to spot a picture frame hung up. It was a picture of his high school team, with Atsumu front and center with his usual plastered grin.

“Yeah, I think it does sometimes.”

You wanted to ask more, but you didn’t think you should. You didn’t think it was a line you should cross. At least, not yet. You were reminded of the fact you two were still practically strangers.

You had nearly forgotten you were there to eat had it not been for Osamu coming around the corner with a steaming tray of food. You barely were able to stop your mouth from salivating once Osamu placed the plates onto the table.

“This is for ya,” Osamu stated harshly, shoving what could only be a receipt into Atsumu’s face.

“What the hell are ya talkin’ about?!” Atsumu barked, snatching the paper from his brother’s hand. “What happened to my family discount?”

“She eats free, but after what ya put me through, ya pay double now.”

Atsumu couldn’t think of anything to retort as he shamefully shoved the receipt into his pocket, muttering something about his ‘good for nothin’ brother’. You couldn’t help but giggle.

Osamu turned back to you. “‘Least I can do is make ya food, so stop in anytime.”

You quickly thanked Osamu for his generous offer before he left the two of you alone in the booth.

“I should’ve bombarded into here sooner if I knew it would have gotten me free food,” you chuckled, immediately going to grab one of the various riceballs infront of you. The taste didn’t disappoint either. Osamu must’ve been a magician, because the food could’ve only been this good with the help of magic. No wonder he had rows of culinary awards plastered on his walls.

“Speakin’ of which, how on earth didn’t ya realize ‘Samu was my twin brother?” Atsumu asked, laughing. “His face didn’t ring any bells?”*

You groaned through your bite of rice. “Listen…”

The rest of your lunch carried on with less stress than you had originally imagined. You thought that underlying tension would weigh down the majority of your meeting and the rest to come, but the two of you got on so… easily. As if Atsumu wasn’t the last person you wanted to see, not even a day ago. You guessed it was from Atsumu’s obnoxiously pleasant personality, one that got you into trouble all those years ago, that made you feel so relaxed. It was a wonder how he was so easygoing in the first place, while you were still a jumbled ball of nerves.

“Should we go pick up Haru now?” Atsumu asked, nodding towards the time on the clock. It was nearing the time you were supposed to go pick him up from school.

“Yeah, but…”

You turned to look out the window of the flashy car parked outside and you grimaced. You couldn’t imagine the faces– not to mention the salacious gossip that would ensue– of the other preschool moms if you suddenly pulled up in a car worth more than your monthly rent, with a man in tow nonetheless. You already got enough shit for being a single parent, and you didn’t want to give those haughty women the idea you were somehow some sort of sugar baby too. 

You looked back to Atsumu, bright-eyed and grinning a magazine-selling smile, and you realized his celebrity face was probably more conspicuous than his car. 

Maybe you should’ve felt bad for making Atsumu wear a face mask and park two streets away, and probably should have felt worse for having him steal the baseball cap right off of Osamu’s head before heading out, but you imagined it would have been worse if Japan’s favorite athlete was suddenly sitting beside you in a lobby full of Osaka’s most talkative housewives. While it seemed nobody had caught onto his identity since majority of his features were covered, you still caught a few of the parents glancing in your direction. Their curiosity was understandable, it was common knowledge you were on your own, so bringing a man with you was surely an eyebrow-raiser.

“That lady with the scary makeup keeps staring at me and it’s making me nervous,” Atsumu whispered in the seat beside you. 

You looked in the direction he was referring to and caught one of the moms, Hitomi, staring directly at Atsumu. Her stark plum-red lipstick paired with spidery false lashes was daunting to look at. Not to mention, she had a personality to match. Her stuck-up personality had already grinded your nerves to a tipping point and the school year had barely began. Even Haru had a disdain for her daughter, Yuki, claiming she constantly hogged all the toys to herself during recess. 

“Y/N, you have company today!” She chirped happily. 

Translation: Who’s this man with you?

It was obvious she wanted to know who Atsumu was. Hitomi apparently didn’t have much shame as her eyes didn’t even bother to meet yours as she raked her eyes up and down Atsumu’s body. While his face wasn’t discernible though his mask, his well-built body had most of the women in the room stealing glances at him. It was obvious, even with the mask, he was definitely handsome. 

You realized there were other onlookers in the room silently listening in. Hitomi was putting on a show. However, you were expecting as much.

“Ah, yes, this is my colleague from work,” you responded, hoping your lie wasn’t transparent. “We were out nearby for a meeting and he accompanied me today to come get Haru.”

“How kind of him!” She grinned. “Will we be seeing more of him?”

Translation: Is this a man in your life? A boyfriend, perhaps?

“Just for today,” you lied through an insincere smile. The entire exchange was already proving to be a headache. You were hoping that Hitomi would just give up and believe your fib that today was just an appearance from a kind coworker. 

“Actually! I’m tryin’ to come more often.” Atsumu replied cheerfully beside you, breaking his silence.  

You cracked your neck to him at lightning speeds and hoped nobody noticed your eyes bulging out of your head. Why on earth was he not playing along?! Forget being civil with Atsumu, you were about to strangle him infront of the entire PTA committee. All the while, he was cheerful as always.

“That’s great to hear!” Hitomi exclaimed. “Since we’ll be seeing you more often, what’s your name?”

Oh, absolutely not. If the rumor mill caught ahold of any information about Atsumu, they would be done for. Atsumu opened his mouth to respond but the door to the classrooms opened.

“Oh, the kids are done class!” You interjected loudly.

Thankfully, Haru and the rest of his class were released from their classroom and into the lobby to be picked up. Haru immediately beelined into your waiting arms and Hitomi was approached by her own daughter, interrupting the conversation. 

“We’re actually in a rush now, so we’ll have to be going,” you apologized, and didn’t even wait for Hitomi to respond as you grabbed onto Haru’s hand, and grabbed onto Atsumu’s sleeve to drag them away to the front desk to sign out Haru as quickly as possible. You practically ran out of the building with both of them in tow, ignoring the many confused stares.

You collected yourselves outside on a secluded part of the street, and you almost collapsed in relief. God knows what would have happened if word got out that Miya Atsumu, of all people, was suddenly picking up your toddler.

“Mama, what’s Mister ‘Tsumu doing here?” Haru asked beside you. You were surprised Haru could recognize him with half his face and hair covered.

“How’d ya know it was me?” Atsumu chuckled, leaning down to Haru’s height and pulling down his mask to his chin.

“Only you have that weird colored hair, mister.”

Your hand immediately flew up to your face to hide your mouth as Atsumu’s face fell. A few tufts of blonde hair stuck out from the hat, seemingly giving him away.

“And mama’s only friends are you and Aunt Naomi, so–”

Now, it was Atsumu’s turn to snort as you pinched your son’s cheek softly. He whined in protest.

“Okay, that’s enough out of you,” you scolded him before turning to Atsumu. “And you, were you trying to give yourself away to the entire lobby? Hitomi’s probably gone off and told the entire neighborhood about my new coworker by now.” 

You remembered the time one of the preschool moms caught you at a work dinner and assumed you were out on a date. By the next morning, the entire lobby was telling you how happy they were to ‘finally see you with a man.’

“Well, I am goin’ to be here more often now.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “So may as well tell ‘em.”

“And were you planning on telling them who you were?” You questioned raising an eyebrow, remembering how he almost answered Hitomi when she asked for his name. “What would you have done if they found out who you really were?”

Haru held onto your leg beside you as he quietly observed your conversation, probably confused on what you two could be bickering about.

He thought for a moment before his shoulders slumped. “I guess ya have a point… My coach did tell me to keep quiet for now.” So he did end up telling his coaches.

“I get that it’s important to keep my identity and all, but I guess I was just got excited about being able to be there for Haru,” he murmured. You sighed, while it was a stupid move, he did seemingly have good intentions. You probably shouldn’t have been so hard on him.

“Mama, you still haven’t told me why Mister Atsumu is here,” Haru frowned in confusion from beside you. You looked down, realizing you still hadn’t answered him. You looked back at Atsumu, still looking dejected.

“He’s here to hang out with us today,” you answered, patting his head. “And he’ll actually be coming to pick you up more often too.”

“Really?” Haru exclaimed excitedly. Atsumu looked back up, suddenly cheering up with a grin. Atsumu almost reminded you of a puppy with how quickly he could perk up after being discouraged.

“C’mon, we’re even going to go home in Mr. Atsumu’s car,” you said, leaning down beside him. “Atsumu, do you wanna show Haru the way?”

“Yeah!” He replied, almost too excitedly as he offered Haru his hand to take, his glumness now forgotten. You smiled warmly as you watched Haru accept his hand, before Atsumu led him to the car.

“Haru, take off your shoes first!” You scolded the young boy as you entered your apartment. Haru, still clad in his school uniform, hurriedly tugged off his small sneakers, and immediately bounded off to the living room to catch the afternoon airing of his favorite cartoon he frequently watched after a long day of school.

“What do ya do now that Haru’s back from school?” Atsumu asked from behind you as you took off your own shoes. 

“Well,” you tapped your chin. You figured it was a good start for Atsumu to know what Haru’s schedule was like. “Usually after school, I make him some lunch and he gets to have some TV time, and he usually likes watching either cartoons or volleyball.” Atsumu grinned at the second option.

“Then he does his homework, gets some free-time before dinner, then he’ll get ready for bed.”

“Since he needs to eat lunch, can I help ya?” Atsumu offered. 

“Sure, I think I have the ingredients for some of his favorite noodles.”

Truthfully, Atsumu probably shouldn’t have offered. He didn’t have the heart to tell you he was an absolute shit cook, but he was desperate to help in any way he could. But how hard could it be?

Apparently, very hard.

He had cut his finger about five times now cutting a single carrot, had oil pop onto said cut, and burnt the noodles the second you handed him the pan. 

Damn Osamu for taking all the cooking genetics in the womb! He cursed silently. He recalled all of his mother’s and Osamu’s fruitless cooking lessons, which all ended in failure. When he had moved out by himself to Osaka and had to feed himself, he solely relied on Osamu, takeout, or instant ramen. He was just thankful you were able to salvage the meal so that Haru miraculously had something to eat that wasn’t burnt to a crisp. 

He moped quietly in the corner of the kitchen, holding onto his injured finger that was throbbing from pain, and his hands were already sore from the exhaustive setting practice he did earlier. If he was alone, he’d be waving around his battered hand and cursing up a storm.

“Let me see,” you beckoned him over. He surrendered his hand over to you in shame as you inspected his cuts and burn.

“Haru!” You called out to the boy in the living room. “Go grab the first aid kit from the bathroom, please!”

His cheeks burned in pure embarrassment. He felt like the toddler in this situation, much less a parent.

Haru, ever the responsible child, immediately got out the first aid kit upon your request. You went to grab a few bandaids and burn treatment for Atsumu to put on, but Haru tugged at Atsumu’s pants leg.

“I wanna do it!” Haru exclaimed. Atsumu realized he was referring to the bandage you were about to hand Atsumu. He looked over to you for permission before you nodded, agreeing that it was okay.

Atsumu chuckled. “‘Course, bud.”

“C’mere, I’ll show you what to do,” you told Haru, before carefully instructing him what to do with the bandaid and ointment. Now, a four year old was taking care of him by bandaging his hand. It’s laughable really, a kid, his own child at that, was able to take care of Atsumu before he could take care of him.

“All better!” Haru chirped, showing Atsumu the zoo-themed bandaids now clad on his fingers and palm.

“Ah, I’m sorry, Haru,” Atsumu sighed, rubbing over the plaster on his fingertips. “It seems I’m not a very good cook.”

“‘Tis okay,” Haru responded with a cheery smile that Atsumu thought was all too similar to yours. “I’ll still eat it!”

You ushered Haru to take his food and eat lunch, while Atsumu was still sulking in the kitchen. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit at Atsumu, he was really like a whimpering puppy.

“Don’t worry, he thinks the food is delicious.”

“Yeah, but that’s because ya fixed it,” Atsumu frowned.

You noticed he was still rubbing a hand over his burnt one, so you clasped onto his to still his anxious fidgeting.

“Haru’s not your Michelin-star brother, his taste palette is composed of dinosaur nuggets and jello. He’ll eat just about anything.” You chuckled, rubbing your hand reassuringly over his. He laughed, more so at himself than anything.

Something about being near you made him feel clumsy and nervous. While you were composed and self-assured, he was suddenly back to being the thick-headed teenager that he has desperately tried to outgrow. He wasn’t sure what happened to the polished and confident Miya Atsumu everyone knew, the one that he was so sure he’s been all this time. The star setter, the positive teammate, the Atsumu who knew what he was doing. 

But he wasn’t. And it was now of all times that he needed to be that Atsumu. 

The last time he felt like the shoes he were wearing were suddenly too big was when Osamu told him he wouldn’t be following him after graduation. Like then, the role he needed to fill was gaping, and it was eating him alive how he didn’t know how to be that. The guy everyone expected him to be, the Miya Atsumu everyone needed him to be, that he wanted to be.

“Y’know, one time I burnt all the cookies I made for his school bake sale,” you suddenly said.

“Huh?” He realized he had strayed too long in his thoughts.

“Haru had a big class bake sale that all the school moms were involved in,” you explained. “It was the first school event I had to work in, and I got assigned cookies. I thought it’d be a slice of cake. How hard could it be, y’know? But I was such a klutz and took a nap while they were baking. Guess I was exhausted from work. The smoke detector woke me up and our landlady was about to call the fire department.”

“Really?” Atsumu replied, a meak laugh escaping from him.

“Yup, and I didn’t have time to bake new ones so I thought I could pass off store-bought ones as homemade, but the other moms saw through my bullshit. Hitomi, the mom you met earlier, gave me an earful about it,” you snickered before looking back at him, still rubbing the pad of your thumb over the bandage across his palm.

“It’s all a learning curve, you get better at it with time. So don’t beat yourself up just because you messed up the first time, alright?”

Atsumu let out a faint chuckle before nodding. The thought of you in the same position as him reassured him somewhat. Of course he didn’t enjoy the thought of you with bandaids all over your hands like himself, but the thought that you could struggle as much as him, while still having the experience of parenthood makes him feel a little better about his lack of cooking skill. He would get it next time.

He looked back down and realized your hand was still on top of his and the blood rushed to his face embarrassingly fast. You noticed his obviously flustered expression, and jerked your hand away.

“Sorry about that–” You stammered quickly. 

A string of curses slung through Atsumu’s head. He should’ve been the embarrassed one here.

“No, no, it’s alright!--” Idiot, idiot. The lingering feeling of your hand resting on his made him absentmindedly clench his hand. He tried to fight back the heat still remaining his cheeks. Why on earth was he acting like it was the first time a girl touched his hand? Maybe he was still like a stupid teenager in more ways than one.

Suddenly, your phone was buzzing on the countertop. You turned over to grab it as Atsumu caught his breath.

“Ah, it’s my boss, I should probably take this.”

Atsumu nodded. “I’ll let ya have some quiet.”

Atsumu left the kitchen so you could take your phone call in private, and noticed Haru was just about done with his food at the dining table. His head perked up noticing Atsumu come in.

“Hey mister, why are you hanging out with me and mama today?” Haru suddenly asked through a mouthful of food. “You bored with volleyball or something?”

You and Atsumu hadn’t had the chance to properly explain why he was suddenly spending more time with you both, probably because you weren’t sure how to properly explain it in the first place. Haru’s curiosity was understandable though, it wasn’t exactly ordinary that the athlete he watched on television was suddenly meandering in their apartment.

Atsumu took a seat at the table. “I guess ya could say I’m yer mom’s friend.”

That explanation would do for now, he hoped. Thankfully, it seemed like it sufficed enough for Haru as he nodded. For a four year old, he didn’t need to question the logic behind the situation.

“Okay, then do you wanna watch TV with me?” Haru asked, suddenly changing the topic.

“Sure, what do ya wanna watch?”

Haru hummed in thought, before a lightbulb went off in Atsumu’s head. You had mentioned before that Haru enjoyed volleyball, this could be a perfect bonding opportunity for him. He imagined all the cool facts and conversations they could have about the sport, maybe even Haru and him could play the sport together–

“Haru, do ya wanna watch volleyball?” Atsumu asked the child, sitting beside him at the kitchen table.

Haru took a final bite of his food.

“Nah,” Haru replied. “I wanna watch basketball.”

It was as if the blood in Atsumu’s body ran ice cold and a crack racketed through his heart. Surely what he was hearing wasn’t true. 

Atsumu clutched his chest in offense before almost shrieking. “Basketball?!”

“Yeah,” Haru nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“B-But,” Atsumu stammered, feeling a bit of his soul trinkle out of his body. “What’s so good about basketball?! Volleyball’s  so much cooler!”

“I started playing it during recess, and it’s so much fun!” Haru grinned, finishing the food on his plate. Before Atsumu could protest, he hopped out of his seat and headed off for the living room. Atsumu knew parenting was going to be hard, but nothing could have prepared him for this. 

Atsumu followed Haru to the couch, verbally protesting the idea, but it didn’t stop Haru from grabbing the remote and turning it on to a sports channel playing the dreaded sport. Atsumu sat stiffly on the couch, accepting that he would just have to come to terms with the fact that his son hated him. Okay, he was being a little dramatic, but still! This was the utmost betrayal in his book.

“Slam dunks are so cool,” Haru cooed at the screen. 

“Yeah, but service aces are alot cooler.”

For the duration of the game on television, whenever Haru would comment on the game, Atsumu was sure to follow with his own rebuttal about how volleyball was clearly the superior sport. Though, Haru didn’t pay him much mind. Atsumu was relieved when Haru finally decided to turn off the TV, finally putting an end to his impromptu torture (once again, being dramatic). He wondered how you managed to do this everyday and not be at your wits end.

Haru hopped off the couch and went to collect his backpack off the nearby table. Damn, Atsumu thought, he didn’t have to be told to do his homework. Haru must have picked that up from you, because it definitely wasn’t from him. He vaguely remembered almost having to repeat kindergarten had his mother not convinced his teachers otherwise. Mrs. Takahashi did not hold a special place in his heart. She definitely liked Osamu more than him.

“What’s yer homework, bud?” Atsumu asked, looking over the boy’s shoulder as he sat down at the coffee table with his work.

“I have an art project,” Haru explained as he unpacked his crayons. “I have to draw my family.”

Haru suddenly stuck a piece of paper infront of him, and Atsumu blinked in surprise.

“Draw with me!” He requested with a toothy smile. Why not? Atsumu shrugged before accepting the paper. Anything was better than having to watch basketball.

Atsumu was reminded that he was certainly not an artist. But he was surely better at drawing than he was at cooking. He drew something vaguely similar to a tiger– reminiscent of the stuffed toy sitting across from him on the couch, but it came out something more like a balloon animal. Next to Haru’s paper, they both were similar in children-like quality.

“Done!” Haru announced before presenting his paper to Atsumu. It was a typical kindergartener’s drawing, with colorful squiggly lines and a smiley faced sun adorned in the corner.

“This is me and mama,” Haru explained, pointing to two stick figures with bright big smiley faces. “This is Aunt Mimi, and I put you mister!”

“What? How come?” Haru considered him a part of his family? Already?

“You said you’re mama’s friend,” he stated simply. For a four year old, it was all the reason he needed. Atsumu looked down at the photo, a smile creeping on his mouth, even if Haru chose to color his hair with a too-bright yellow crayon.

“Sorry, sorry!” You exclaimed, returning to the living room to find Haru and Atsumu sitting cross-legged at the coffee table. “My boss never knows when to stop talking, I swear.”

“That’s alright, look at what Haru drew!” Atsumu beamed, gesturing to the drawing on the table.

You walked over to inspect the colorful drawing and snorted. “Is that supposed to be you there?”

“Yup,” Atsumu grinned bashfully. He was practically giddy with excitement.

“Your hair is the same color as the sun,” you giggled pointing at the neon yellow sun in the corner of the page.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You couldn’t help but grin at how gleefully Atsumu was beaming at the drawing. 

“Could I have this?” Atsumu asked, looking at Haru.

“No, it’s my homework!” Haru retorted, frowning. “I’ll get in trouble.”

You could tell Atsumu was about to give one of his infamous pouting faces that you were starting to grow accustomed to.

“But I could draw you another one,” Haru replied, going to grab another piece of paper.

“I’d like that very much.”

As Haru got to work on another drawing for Atsumu, you both went back to sit at the dining table together.

“How would you say your first day of parenting went?” You asked, across from Atsumu.

“I don’t think I’ll ever recover from Haru asking me to watch basketball over volleyball,” Atsumu scoffed. “Do you think he’s already goin’ through his rebellious phase?”

“It’s not the end of the world,” you snorted. Atsumu seemed practically miserable at the idea that Haru preferred the rival sport. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like if Haru declared he wanted to pursue any other activity other than volleyball at school. Knowing Atsumu, he would probably collapse at the idea.

“Ah, I didn’t realize how late it was gettin’,” Atsumu said, looking at the time on the clock on the wall.

“Yeah, I’ll have to get dinner started and Haru to bed soon,” you nodded, the day having flown by before you could even realize.

“I’ll get goin’ then,” Atsumu said, getting up from the table. “But I hope we can do this again soon?”

“Of course, I’d love it if you came around more often.” you replied and Atsumu’s eyes widened.

“Really?” He replied.

“Haru would too! I can already tell he likes being around you–” You quickly added, realizing that you probably seemed too eager for Atsumu to visit again. But it didn’t seem like he minded at all.

“I hope so,” Atsumu chuckled, going to collect his things. “Even if it seems like he doesn’t like my job.”

You rolled your eyes at him as you called over Haru to say goodbye, and the toddler came to the door with a paper scrunched in his hands.

“I drew you!” He announced proudly, presenting Atsumu the picture he had drawn for him. Once again, you noticed he had used the brightest yellow crayon he had in his box to color his hair.

“Thanks, Haru,” Atsumu grinned, going to ruffle his hair and take the picture from him. “I’ll put it on my fridge as soon as I get home.”

He turned back to you, the picture held carefully in his zoo-bandaged hands. It’s adorable, really.

“I’ll see ya around soon, alright?” Atsumu said with a toothy grin.

“Alright,” you replied, your tone softer than you intended.

Haru and you waved goodbye as you watched Atsumu head out of the apartment and down the hallway. Once he was in the privacy of the elevator, he pressed the drawing against his chest, where his heart was busy welling. 

“I’d love it if you came around more often, huh?” He chuckled to himself. He didn't admit to himself he thought about the comment all the way home.

* a little joke at how y/n didn't recognize osamu somehow LMAO, excuse the little logic behind it, it was for plot convenience :)

reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciates! :)

taglist (closed): @cloud-lyy @gabicalicota @lilith412426 @luvkaku @bbaegirl @allainaemm @fashionloverr846 @slut444spencer @tsumus-babydoll @1-800-peakyblinders @lellokitty @blinkingsuns @polish-cereal @lilolpotato @yogkurts @awkwardaardvarkforever @swan-chan @bngtnsecret @themoonreflectsthesun @mazdoe @marvel-ing-at-it-all @botphobiaa @kyomihann @koutarostiddies @katsunarii @coconut-soup @ibby-miyoshi-nerd @nicerthanu @invyou @ti-mame @ushygushybaby @hanahanasstuff @drageonix24 @bokuatsubro @littlemochi @softtashoney @curiouslilbeasty @rukia-uchiha-98 @pinkwhiskers @urmomondeez @unstaaableaf

[edsloveydove]

I Have Always Seen You

pairing: eddie munson x chubby female reader

summary: of course the boy i've known since 3rd grade, the one i've loved since 7th grade, would be the one to break my heart. i never thought he would be the one to fix it too...

warnings: bullying, fatphobia, use of the word pig towards reader once, falling off a bike, blood and cut knee from falling off said bike, self-doubt and sort of self-hate i guess, cursing, mentality that reader wouldn't be 'missed' (idk if thats a warning but just in case), no use of y/n, underage drinking, reader has an older brother for sake of the story (i gave him a really basic/common name), thoughts and flashbacks are in italics!! nickanames/pet names (shortcake, princess, honey, sweetheart), reader is at least a bit shorter than eddie, very poorly edited, talks of the demobats and upside down, again like very badly edited, lemme know if i missed anything, i'm sure i have!

word count: 9k+

notes: my first fic guys and it turned into this 9,000 word monster! wild! anyway, this might be trash i honestly don't know, i have no perception of it, pls let me know what you think!! also, this story is told in first person point of view so it uses 'i, me, myself' and all that, idk how i feel about it though tbh. uuuuh, enjoy!!

DON'T REPOST MY WRITING OR SHARE IT TO OTHER PLATFORMS (including mentioning it in tiktok comment sections and stuff like that pls) THIS IS MY WRITING, DON'T STEAL IT PLEASE!

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

The sweltering midwestern heat was hitting Hawkins, Indiana early this year. School had only been out for a few weeks and it was already hot enough to have the city pool passing the max capacity damn near every day. 

Luckily for me, I had been able to successfully avoid going every time my friends have asked me to join them. Until now. 

“C’mon, it’s gonna be so much fun! Steve’s parents are gone again, like usual, so it’ll just be us and a few other friends!” Robin tries to convince me through the phone.  

“Robin, I never believe ‘just us and a few friends’, because it is ne-”

“It’s never just a few friends, I know. But this time it really will be just a few people. Like, actually just a few people. After everything that happened during spring break and all that, Steve really just wants the main guys there. There’s not gonna be any crazy partying, we’re gonna swim and relax, that’s it.”

“I don’t know, I might be busy tomorrow,” I attempt an excuse. 

“Then we’ll move it to when you’re free. We really want you there, you haven’t gone to any of our movie nights or other hangouts yet,” Robin points out while saying my name softly. “Is it something else? Is there someone you don’t want there?” 

Robin isn’t entirely wrong, there is something else that’s keeping me from joining my friends. And technically it does have to do with someone, but not in the way she thinks. And that someone happens to be none other than the Eddie Munson. 

I’ve known Eddie for many years. My older brother was one of his best friends while growing up having met in elementary school. James was in the grade above Eddie, and the one to introduce him to D&D, eventually passing on the title of Hellfire Club President to him as well. I was always in the background, hoping my brother would let me learn how to play just so I could impress him and his friends. 

While they were occupying the basement, getting pizza and bottles of Coke every other Saturday for their stupid role-playing game, I was in my room reading trashy romance novels and out riding my bike to the library in hopes to seem cool when I came back late at night. 

By the time I got to high school, it was James’ second to last year before he went off to college in Chicago on his big-shot football scholarship he managed to snag before he was even a senior. And yes, James was a Hellfire nerd and a star-athlete, so no one messed with their little club while he was there. Eddie was in his sophomore year, already antsy to graduate and move on to greater things. 

I was just the outcast that didn’t even have a group. It didn’t matter that I was the captain of the football team’s little sister, I never made any friends because I never tried to. 

Needless to say, yeah, Eddie and I had some history and maybe things got brought up when Vecna was trying to take over the world that might have been better left untouched. And maybe the idea of seeing him again brings butterflies to my stomach while also making my gut sink. 

“No, it's not that. I just…I guess I just haven’t been feeling it since…since yanno,” I say, half heartedly. 

Robin voices her understanding and tells me to just call back when I make a decision on if I would go or not. I promise her I will and hang up the phone. It’s not like I didn’t want to see them, because truly I did but it also wasn’t a complete lie when I told her I hadn’t been feeling quite right since the Venca situation. 

It was a really traumatic and horrible experience for everyone involved, and really astonishing that everyone made it out alive. 

‘Maybe I should just go…but what if it’s horrible? I know none of my lovely friends would ever say anything to me about it, but I just can’t stand the thought of them seeing me in a swimsuit, especially Eddie.’ I shake my head at the thought. ‘What a stupid thing to think, god, we all nearly died and I’m worried about my stomach in a swimsuit, how shallow is that? I guess some things just never change, no matter the life threatening situation…’

I go about my nighttime routine, washing my face and making sure no lights have been left on around the house. I say goodnight to my mother and fall right asleep. Or, I try to at least. 

But my mind keeps me up for much longer than I would have hoped. 

‘It would be a good time, though. Have a couple of beers, spend the night in one of Steve’s nice guest bedrooms. I wouldn’t even have to swim, I could just say I’m on my period or something. Ugh, but Robin knows that I always swam even on my period when we were younger. I’ll just wear a suit under my clothes and pretend the water is too cold even though it’s the peak of summer? Yeah, that should work. I can’t imagine anyone will care that much anyway if I’m not in the pool with them. I really do miss my friends.’

~ 

The next morning I call Robin and tell her I’ll be there tonight. She squeals in delight and tells me how happy she’ll be to see me.

Now it was just time to pick out an outfit, should be simple enough, right? 

Well, after leaving it to the last second and now only having about 15 minutes to get to Steve’s when it’s already a five minute drive, having half of my closet strewn about my room doesn’t seem like a very good place to be at. 

I finally sigh and opt for a swim suit from the summer before that I never wore, a green one piece with a wrapped sort of style for the top portion, and black cut off shorts and an old t-shirt that fits comfortably loose over it. 

I grab my keys and kiss my mother on the forehead, reminding her I wouldn’t be back till the next morning. 

Several shouts of my name reach my ears once I reach Steve’s backyard, it does bring a small smile to my face knowing I’ve been missed just as much as I’ve missed them. 

“You’re actually here, I’m so happy to see you!” Nancy says pulling me in for a hug, Robin joining on top, squishing us all together. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know it’s been a while. I’m sorry.” 

“No, you don’t have to be sorry, it’s been a really hard year,” Nancy says sincerely. 

Steve comes up for a hug next, squishing me for dear life, I could feel him about to try to lift me up and spin me around so I pull away rather abruptly. 

“Alright, alright, it’s nice to see you, too, Steve.”

He answers with a kiss to the cheek and makes me promise that I’ll come to the next hangout and every one after that. I see Jonathan and he waves with a small awkward smile. 

Finally my eyes meet Eddie’s. 

~

“James! James! C’mon, come outside and play with me!” It was nearing the end of summer before James would go back to school for his 8th grade year and I would be going into 6th grade. 

“Not right now, can’t you see that I’m busy? I’m too old to play outside anyway,” my brother rolls his eyes. 

I hop down the stairs so I can see the basement fully now. Spotting all of my brother's friends huddled around our dinky old card table while he has books and notepads sprawled on his end. 

“Well, can I at least play your game with you guys? I’m sure I can learn it fast!” I beam, faking confidence in hopes to sway them. 

“No offense, shortcake, but it’s probably too confusing for you. Besides, we’re right in the middle of a campaign, it would be too hard to add in another character out of the blue right now,” Eddie says with a chuckle, like the idea that I could play is too amusing to even consider. 

Naturally, I take full offense. 

“Fine! You’re all so annoying, I didn’t even want to play with you anyway. Especially not with someone who has a buzzcut!” I stick my tongue out at them and run away, but not before I can hear them laughing. 

Sitting alone in my room I know it was childish of me, especially for my age. James was probably right, he was too old to be outside playing tag with his sister. I was too old to be throwing a tantrum like this over some friends wanting to spend time with each other without one’s little sister hanging around. 

~

“Hey, Munson.” 

Eddie nods his head in greeting and goes back to talking with Jonathan. Well, that’s honestly about as much interaction as I expected to get from him tonight. 

“Alright, let’s get this party started!” Robin exclaims, dragging you toward the cooler filled with ice and drinks, I grab a Sprite to start with. 

2 hours later and my Sprite is still mostly untouched and it’s now gone lukewarm. The others are in the pool splashing and playing chicken, I sit on the side with my feet dangling into the shallow end, watching as they fool around and laugh. Giggles and quiet laughs leave my lips on occasion with them. 

“You should get in, the water’s really nice!” Nancy says. 

“Yeah! Strip for us and get in here,” Robin adds, making everyone laugh. 

“You guys just want to get me out of my clothes, don’t you?” I play it off, shaking my head slightly. Giggles erupt again. I excuse myself to the bathroom after pulling my legs out of the pool. 

Closing and locking the door behind me I look at myself in the mirror.

‘I should just get in the pool, shouldn’t I? I do feel like I’m missing out on what could be a lot of fun. And it wouldn’t hurt to wash all this sweat off of me. I could just keep my shirt on, I have an extra change of clothes as backup anyway.’ 

I finish my business and leave the bathroom. 

After turning the corner to go back to the pool I run straight into something firm, nearly being toppled over before hands are at my forearms to keep me from doing so. Seeing dark curls fanning across this “something’s” shoulders and several patches of dark ink on its bare skin, I immediately know I have just run head first into Eddie. Great. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” I murmur, keeping my eyes pointed down. 

“It’s alright, shortcake. No harm done right?” he says, adjusting his head to try to catch my eyes. 

I nod my head and pull away from his hands that still rest gently on my arms. 

“Hey, hey, what’s up? You’re so quiet tonight, is everything okay?” 

I nod again and pull away harder, rushing out the door to get back to the pool, ignoring his call of my name and a request to “just hold on a second.” 

Pulling my shorts off quickly, I step up to the pool and begin to wade into the water before Robin stops me. 

“Your shirt! You don’t want the chlorine to ruin it!” 

My heart thumps, thinking of how I can handle this. My mouth opens to say something but before I can, Robin cuts me off. 

“Just take it off, no one’s gonna make fun of you for being in your swimsuit and if they do I’ll beat them up for you and then we’ll all collectively agree to throw them out of the group. And don’t try to tell me that’s not what it is, I can see it all over your face. You’re allowed to have fun and go swimming, I don’t like to see you excluding yourself, no matter the reason,” she says. 

Of course she would see right through any lie I could throw her way. That’s just how Robin is. No matter how clumsy she can be, she really is observant. Not only that, but she’s right. Nobody cares and if they do, that’s their problem. 

I rip off my shirt and dive into the pool trying to minimize the time in which people could see me without it. Immediately finding Steve’s legs I yank his ankles so he falls backwards into the water with an unnecessarily loud screech. 

It makes the rest of us laugh loudly until Steve comes back up for air with a thirst for vengeance. He chases me around the pool, not for long considering he’s such a strong swimmer and I’m really not trying very hard to get away from him, and catches me easily. His arms wrap around my waist and I cringe as his hands nudge my stomach, scolding myself for the action right after. Steve doesn’t care about my stomach, if he did, he wouldn’t be my friend. 

“That really wasn’t very nice,” Steve says and starts lifting me out of the water. 

“Steve, hey. Steve! Steve, no, I’m too heavy! Stevie, no! Bad Stevie! Bad!”

I’m thrown in the air as far as he can get me and I splash back down. 

I come up spluttering for breath, “Oh, you are so dead, Harrington!” 

All at once the rest of us are splashing and dunking him over and over, until he pleads mercy. Shrieks and squeals of glee and what might be considered laughter fill the air as everyone gets their turn being thrown into the water. 

Eddie comes back out from the house and cannonballs in the middle of our ‘hate on Steve’ fest. 

Eventually I end up back on the side of the pool in my shirt with just my feet in, this time so I can enjoy a fresh soda and mellow out a little, not to make myself smaller. Nancy and Jonathan have called it a night already, leaving Steve, Eddie, and Robin in or by the pool with me. 

“I never noticed this scar? Where did you get it?” Robin points to my knee. 

~ 

The nice old librarian put a hand on my shoulder gently to get my attention, telling me the library would be closing soon and it was best I head home, I hadn’t realized how late it already was. I pack everything together as fast as I can, quickly saying goodnight and unlocking my bike, trying my hardest to race home before the sun sets. 

The wheels of my rickety bicycle pump faster and faster and in my haste I bump over a high curb without realizing, flying off and onto the pavement. 

Tears spring to my eyes as air is sucked in through my teeth. I take a look at my knee and see a small dribble of blood seeping down it, my hands have little scrapes all over, spotted with little beads of red. 

Not the worst I could have gotten from a bike incident, but bad enough to keep me from being able to ride the rest of the way home. It’s not far, but so much for getting back before the street lights turn on. 

About 15 minutes later I make it into our backyard, dropping the two wheeled contraption from hell into the grass and stumbling through the door, all while sniffling back sobs. 

“Oh hey, shortcake! James was starting to get worried about you, you really shouldn’t walk alone at night yanno? Next time ju-” Eddie cuts himself off after seeing the state I’m in. Of course he had to be the one to see me like this. Anyone else could have been sent on snack duty tonight, but it just had to be him. 

“Oh my god, what happened?” He walks up to me. 

I shrug my shoulders and look away. I catch a glimpse of how bad my knees and hands have gotten on the walk home. Blood drips down both knees, my left knee looking significantly worse than the right. Dirt and pebbles cover my palms along with streaks of crimson. 

“Don’t do that, sweetheart. Tell me what happened? Please?” 

I still don’t say anything, fresh, hot tears welling up and already spilling out. I refuse to let stupid Eddie Munson see me like this, all it would be is more leverage to make fun of me with. 

He pulls my hand gently until I’m sitting down. Eddie appears in front of me with a first aid kit a few seconds later, carefully cleaning the gashes on my knees and scrapes on my hands with alcohol wipes. 

“Did,” he lets out a shuddering breath, “Did someone hurt you?” 

“No, god no Eddie, I just-, god this is so embarrassing, I just fell off of my bike is all,” I mutter, not really wanting him to hear the words as they come out. 

“S’ not embarrassing, stuff like that happens. I just wish you would have told me, here I was thinking the boys and I were going to have to band together to cause hell for our favorite little goblin,” he says. 

“You’re just trying to make me feel better, you guys wouldn’t really do that, I guess James might. Most of you guys don’t even really like me that much anyway, you don’t have to lie,” I whisper.

“That’s not true! Of course we would stick up for you!” he says like he’s shocked that I would think the opposite. 

I just shrug my shoulders again and wipe my eyes, still avoiding looking him in the face. 

“Here, let me help you up to your room. That can’t feel good to walk on,” he pulls me up from the chair and goes to lift me into his arms. I jump out of his reach before he can. 

“It’s okay, I got it. Just- you better get back downstairs before they start worrying. I’ll take care of myself.” 

“What? No, you’re basically limping just standing here, shortcake, let me carry you, it’ll only take a minute?” He phrases it like a question. Asking but also sort of demanding. 

The idea is actually really nice, and I want to say yes to it. It would be like when the prince finally gets the princess in all those books I’ve read. Eddie could sweep me off of my feet and whisk me away. 

But I know better, I know that he wouldn’t be able to lift me. Even if he could he wouldn’t so much as glance at me, again, I’m just his friend's little sister. Here only because this is where she lives. 

“No thank you, I’m okay. Go ahead and go back to your game, I’m sure they miss you already. Nobody would even notice if I were gone, but they’ll practically riot without you,” I try to cover how deeply I believe those words with a laugh as I wobble away and halfway up the stairs before he can stop me. 

~

“Um, I guess I don’t really remember. It’s probably just one of those super old scars you forget are even there,” I say, even though I recall the night I got it vividly. 

Eddie’s eyes meet mine from the other side of the pool and they look almost…hurt at the possibility that I might not remember that day. Well, he didn’t get to feel hurt about it. He made it clear that he doesn’t care how I feel when we were in the upside down. 

“Hmmm, yeah, I have, like, tons of those actually,” Robin says, “This one is from my cat, Steven, and this one-” 

“You have a cat named Steven?” I cut her off. She gives me a look that says ‘duh’. 

“But what about Steve? Like human Steve? Was this before or after you became friends? And how has this never come up before?” I practically shriek. 

“Believe me, it has come up before. And yes, before she tells you otherwise, it was after we became friends,” Steve says, settling down beside me while throwing his arm around my shoulders. 

“That is not true! I found him outside the mall before we became friends! We may have been working together at that point, but we were not friends yet!” Robin shouts. 

“We were friends, she’s just embarrassed that she named her cat after me,” Steve whispers in my ear, making me giggle like a schoolgirl. 

Even though I’ve never seen Steve romantically, he still had the ability to reduce me to feet kicking and hair twirling. 

“What’s wrong with you, Munson?” Steve asks, noticing the scowl covering his face that usually carries a bright smile. 

Eddie shakes his head, “Nothing man, just thinking about how I don’t have a beer in my hand right now.” 

~ 

A call of my name breaks my gaze away from the mirror. 

“You almost ready? It’s time to go!” James yells, entering my room. “Hey! You look great! It almost feels like I’m sending you off to prom already,” he says wiping fake tears from his cheeks. 

I shove him in the chest and readjust my hair and the straps to my dress for what feels like the millionth time. It was a rather simple looking thing considering I had to sew it myself since the only dresses even near my size were too far out of theme for the 8th grade Winter Snowball or they were simply just ugly. 

Light blue and white fabric lays delicately across my shoulders and down to my knees, matched with white slip on shoes and silver snowflake jewelry. 

“You look really nice, seriously. I know how nervous you are, but it’s gonna be okay, I promise,” my brother assures me, slapping my shoulder much harder than necessary to push me towards the door, “Now it’s time to get your butt moving, let’s go!” 

When we arrive at the dance I immediately catch eyes with Robin and speed walk to her. James goes wherever he's needed for volunteering. 

After about 45 minutes the first slow song of the night comes on as I sit contently by myself at the far end of the bleachers. I wasn’t sad to not be dancing with anyone, I was honestly sort of relieved that I hadn’t had to dance all night. But watching all the couples on the dance floor does make my heart ache just a little. 

“I haven’t seen you dance all night, what’s that about?” 

“Why are you here?” 

“Ouch, shortcake, I don’t even get a hello? And what, I can’t come volunteer with your brother?” Eddie says, fake hurt painting his face. 

“It just doesn’t seem like you, I guess.” 

He sits down next to me leaving at least enough room for another person to sit between us. He hands me an unopened juice box. 

“Seriously though, why aren’t you out there? You don’t have someone you wanna get cozied up with on the dancefloor?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me in his typical annoying Eddie way. 

I roll my eyes, as my stomach twists with shame. He’s mocking me, isn’t he? 

“Nope. I’m okay with it though. Honestly I was perfectly happy just sitting here. Until you showed up that is,” I say with a shrug. 

“Oh really? Well, gosh, who made you such a sour fart?” he laughs as I push him in the arm. 

“Alright, c’mon then. Pity party is over, let's go do this,” Eddie holds out his hand and raises a brow when all I do is look at it confused. “Let’s go dance, shortcake, you should at least once before it’s over.” 

“Um- I-” I’m at a loss for words. There’s no way he’s being anything but friendly but my stupid heart skips too many beats to count. 

“Here, I need to go check on James and see how the other volunteers are doing. While I take care of that, I want you to sit here and decide if you want to dance with me or not. Of course, I won’t make you do anything you don’t wanna, but if you’re up for it, I’m here,” he says, bouncing back to the drinks and snacks table. I smile giddily at his back and stay sitting. 

By the time the last song of the night played I was still in the exact same spot I had been for nearly 2 hours, waiting for Eddie to come back. 

Immediately after he left, I knew I wanted to dance with him. Of course I would. I’ve known him since I was in 4th grade and have had a crush on him for a year now. All I had to do was wait a few minutes and I would get to live out a fairytale dream. Dancing across the room in a flowey dress with the guy I liked. Of course it would be strictly platonic on his end but it could mean something more to me silently. 

So there I sat, with my empty juice box, tapping my foot in excitement. The first slow song ended and there was no sign of Eddie, but I was sure he just caught up with volunteer work. After the next 3 songs played I began to doubt myself slightly. 

‘Maybe he hadn’t actually wanted to dance like it had seemed. But he looked really sincere when asking me. Yeah. And even if Eddie is just a regular teenage boy, and he can definitely be a jerk sometimes, he’s much sweeter and kinder than most. He wouldn’t leave me hanging like that. He’ll be back any minute now, I’m sure.’ 

By the time 11 more songs had played, I knew he wasn’t coming back. Tears were smearing my mascara while I sat as still as possible on the bleachers, not wanting to draw any attention to myself.  

Of course he wasn’t being serious. He just wanted to tease me like usual, the only difference was this time it went too far. This time he was cruel about it. He could have just told me he didn’t mean it. Instead he strung me along and had me sitting here like a lovesick puppy for an hour straight. 

Who was I kidding? Eddie couldn’t be interested in me. He was my brother's best friend and had seen me grow up. I was just his friend’s chubby little sister. Wearing a dress that doesn’t sparkle and shine like all the others’, sitting alone and pouting like a baby. 

He probably thought I would crush his feet if I accidentally stepped on them. 

After persevering through another hour of horror, James finds me in my corner ready to head home. 

“All ready to go?” he asks jovially like he always seems to be. 

“Yes.” 

James picks up on my mood right away, but I’m already halfway to the car before he can say anything. 

“Okay, uh, I gotta clean up some stuff still but here,” he throws me his car keys when I turn back around, “Go get the car started yeah?” 

I nod and head out to the car when I see Eddie jogging up to the doors after me. My steps speed up hoping for all hell to avoid him. He calls my name but I don’t look back or slow down, in fact, the only thing it succeeds in doing is making me walk faster. 

My hands shake as I try to slip the key into the driver’s side door handle. Warm hands settle on my wrists. 

“Holy shit, I am so sorry, shortcake. I was so excited to dance with you, I really was, I just got caught up in helping another volunteer with something and lost track of time. I didn’t mean to forget you there all alone, I swear on everything. I know how excited you were for tonight and I am so sorry. I didn’t realize how long I had been gone until everyone started leaving and then I saw you get up and realized what I’d done, please forgive me,” he rambles off almost too quickly to understand. 

I expect tears but all I get is a deep rooted feeling of shame and anger. Ashamed by the fact that I thought he would come back and angry at myself for sitting there hopelessly when I could’ve danced with Robin at least. 

“Please, look at me. Please tell me you at least got to dance with someone else, right? You had a good time? Please tell me you at least had fun,” he pleads. 

A scoff escapes me as I whirl on him. 

“No, I didn’t dance with someone else, I sat there and I waited for you. I waited for you the whole time, and I guess that was my first mistake wasn’t it, huh? I believed you. I really thought you meant what you said to me.” 

I rip my arms out of hold. 

“You know what’s funny, too? I was actually having a really good time before you showed up. I told you as much earlier, even. I was perfectly happy to sit by myself, considering that’s how I spend most of my time anyway. I was really enjoying just watching the lights and the twirl of dresses, alone. I was overjoyed to just sit and watch Robin dance with her friends. And you had to come and- and lie to me! You made me feel special for fuck’s sake.” 

His eyes flash with guilt and he must have finally realized how much he hurt me. 

“I get that I’m not the prettiest and skinniest girl and I know that most of those kids don’t even know my name, but you do! You know me. You know me and you still forgot about me,” I pause and take a deep breath, “Do you remember what I said that night when I fell off my bike?” 

Eddie shakes his head.

“Nobody would even notice if I were gone. Nobody, not even you, I guess. You forgot about me not even 5 minutes after making me feel like the most special girl in that whole damn room. And that was really mean, Eddie. I hope you, at least, have a good rest of your night,” I step into the car and start the engine.

~ 

Steve plops down next to me holding 4 cans of beer, one for each of us. 

“I’m really happy I came tonight, thank you, for inviting me and not forgetting about me after I kinda disappeared,” I say quietly. 

Steve pats my back while Robin says something along the lines of ‘duh, of course we would never forget about you.’ 

Eddie stays silent, watching me closely. 

I put my drink on the ground beside me and lay on my back, pulling my shirt down to make sure it covers me still. I start to count the stars, just to keep my brain occupied. My eyes drift shut, my mind choosing to visit yet another memory tonight.  

~ 

It was James’ graduation party. All we had were a couple tables set up with snacks in the backyard and a bonfire, nothing too fancy. I made a simple ‘Happy Graduation!’ banner to hang across the gate for everyone to see, too. 

I’m wearing a plain white sundress and converse, I knew I would be running back and forth from the backyard and the kitchen too much for heels to be sensible. Making sure there’s enough drinks and food and ice for everyone was my job tonight. The sun is still up, melting the ice and warming every drink out here. 

James calls my name softly, “You can quit running around and tending to every little need. Come hang out with everyone for a little bit. Please?” 

I set down the metal tub where drinks are kept and walk over to sit around the fire with him and his usual friends. New faces have popped up over the years, but many stayed the same. Danny Williams, a junior who may or may not have been my first kiss when we happened to both show up at the same party and ended up playing spin the bottle together, Jason Carver, a freshman who appeared promising on the football team before switching to basketball instead, Michael Brown, a senior who’s been in the little Hellfire Group since the beginning. There are several others I don’t recognize and even more that I do. 

Of course, Eddie is there too. I just haven’t really…acknowledged him in…in a really long time. 

I haven’t necessarily been giving him the silent treatment, but I stopped entertaining the conversations he always seemed to start with me. 

Danny greets me with a smile as he sits down next to me. He even pulls his lawn chair a little closer towards mine, grinning slightly while doing so. 

“What can I do for you Danny?” I say. 

“Oh nothing. I just wanted to come sit by you, is all.” Huh. That…that sort of stumps me. 

I didn’t think Danny would even recognize me at the party, and I’m honestly even more surprised that he wanted to talk to me after kissing me. We make small conversation, butting into the rest of the group's discussion once in a while to add an opinion. 

Night had fallen and marshmallows and graham crackers were brought out for s'mores, as well as a couple of 12 packs of beer that someone had brought with them. 

I knew James had gone to several parties to celebrate winning a football game where there had been alcohol, or even just little get-togethers where it was provided. I guess now that it was only soon-to-be seniors and high school graduates, minus myself, left at the party it was time for that portion of the night to begin. 

I stand up to go in and let the others have their fun. 

“Where’re you going?” Danny asks, grabbing my hand lightly, looking up with wide puppy dog eyes. His eyes are a pretty green color. Brown eyes have always been my favorite, though. 

“Oh, I was just going to head in and call it a night. That way you all could have your fun without worrying about me dragging you down.” 

My comment makes his brows furrow, his mouth opens to say something, but he’s cut off. 

“You can stay out here, you know. No one minds having you here and I’m sure dear old James doesn’t care if you partake in a little drink, do you?” Eddie states. When did he get so close to us? 

“Even if I did care she gets to do what she wants, man. As long as you're safe about it, go for it,” James says, patting my back and taking one for himself. 

I’ve never drank before, but what the hell? James was leaving in just a few weeks now and this might be my only chance to try it. It’s certainly one of my last chances to hang out with everyone like this, at least for a while. 

After just 2 cans my tongue had already loosened significantly. Danny and I had been talking and giggling the whole time until he had gotten up to go home since his designated driver was ready to leave. 

“So, you and Danny seem pretty close suddenly?” Eddie phrases it like a question, wanting more information on the subject. 

Usually I would just hum in what could be taken as agreement or disinterest but my mind was running a little slower than normal. 

“Yeah, he and I kinda ran into each other at a party that I kinda crashed with Robin and we ended up, like, kissing and stuff,” I giggled. “But shhhh, don’t tell anyone else.”  

Eddie’s eyes widened, but that could have been a trick of the light. 

“What, uh, what do you mean by ‘and stuff’?” 

“Oh nothing. We just had one teensy tiny kiss because we were playing spin the bottle,” I say, not really thinking about it. 

Now I really know my brain is playing tricks on me because for a second I think Eddie looks pleased with this new knowledge that it didn’t really mean anything. 

“I feel like we haven’t really talked in a long time. What’s, uh, what’s been up, lately?” 

The question itself is awkward, but the way he struggled through it made it even more awkward. 

“I’ve been regular old me, Eddie. Nothing new or exciting. Although I did finish a book last night that really threw me through a loop. Oh! Actually there is something exciting! Do you wanna hear it?” 

He smiles, “Of course I do, shortcake.” 

“Well,” I take another sip of what is now my third beer, “William Gillar and Stacy Johnson have finally graduated!” I let out a squeal. 

Eddie just looks at me confused. 

“Do you have any idea what this means, Eds? I am finally free of those two asshats for the rest of my high school experience! Isn’t that amazing! I mean, it was easier to ignore this year than last year, but god I am so thrilled! No more mean notes from them calling me a pig in my locker and book bag, I can even finally find a table to sit at for lunch instead of hiding in Mr. Steerwell’s class,” I sigh happily. 

“Do you wanna know what else they did? This is so silly! They used to catch me on my walk home from school and steal my library books. How stupid is that? Why would you steal someone’s library books, right? They would run around with it so I would chase after them and then laugh at how my body would jiggle. How funny, right? I am so happy they’re gone, Eds, you have no idea.” 

Eddie has his mouth halfway open, anger flaring in his eyes. But that couldn’t be right, why would he care about a couple of high school bullies. 

“No, that’s not funny or silly. That’s been going on this whole time? And you didn’t tell anyone? God, why wouldn’t you tell someone, sweetheart? That’s horrible,” he says. 

“Meh, it’s just normal high school bully stuff.” I wave my hand in dismissal. 

“No, it’s not. Bullying shouldn’t even be considered normal anyway, but what they did to you? That goes far beyond normal, shortcake. I wish you would have said something. You know James and I would’ve taken care of them for you, right?” 

“Well, it doesn’t really matter now, does it. It’s too late,” I dismiss him and his misplaced worry. Honestly, it was nothing I couldn’t handle. He must have sensed how much I didn’t want to talk about it anymore because he dropped it. 

The night moves quickly after that, people say their goodbyes as James takes over clean up duty, considering I can barely stand up without nearly falling asleep. 

“Eddie, will you take her in and make sure she gets into bed okay?” James asks. 

That’s how I find myself being semi-dragged up the stairs to my bedroom and thrown on the mattress like a sack of potatoes. I don’t think Eddie was half as rough as my brain made it seem, to be honest. 

“Eds?” I whisper looking down at Eddie who’s kneeling by feet, gently taking my shoes off. 

“Yeah?” 

A couple beats of silence pass where I try to figure out how to word what I’m thinking. 

“I forgive you.” His movements stop. “I hope you know that. It’s probably such a silly little thing to even remember but I forgive you for forgetting to dance with me. I probably would have forgotten me, too. And…and I am sorry. I really am, for pushing you away so hard after. It was really stupid of me and I wish I hadn’t. Robin is a good friend, but you’re kind of the closest thing I’ve ever had to a best friend, I think. And I threw that all away over hurt feelings. Puberty, am I right?” I giggle. 

“S’ not silly to remember that. And you weren’t being stupid, sweetheart. You were hurt, you were protecting yourself and I don’t blame you for that. I should never have even walked away from you that night, but I did. And I don’t deserve your forgiveness for it,” Eddie says. 

More words mumble out of his mouth but none of it registers. Soon the noise stops and I feel Eddie’s warm hands pull my shoes all the way off, pushing my legs onto the bed and turning me to lay comfortably on my stomach. 

He must remember that’s my favorite way to sleep. 

My mind must really hate me because I swear, right before I fall asleep, I feel lips pressing gently to my forehead while a guitar calloused hand pushes hair away from my eyes. 

Of course, that didn’t actually happen because that’s not something Eddie would do. Right? Yeah, he wouldn’t…

~ 

A timid shake to my shoulder pulls me from my dozing. 

“Hey, shortcake, it’s time for you to go in.” 

There’s only one person who’s ever called me by that nickname. 

“Hm, it’s been a while since you’ve called me that…Eds.” 

I don’t know what made me decide to use his nickname. It never seemed right to use it after we drifted so far apart when James left. 

Eddie helps pull me to my feet. 

���Hmmm, he’s always been a lot stronger than he looks. I barely even lifted myself up for him.’ 

“Oh, now you wanna be all friendly again? Using a nickname and everything? What’s this all about, huh?” Eddie says, steadying me with his calloused hands when my legs wobble.   

My brows furrow, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Earlier, when we were in the house. You practically ran away from me. I mean, it’s just that we…we haven’t seen each other since we went into the upside down. I thought maybe,” he lets out a long breath. “Maybe things had changed or something, I guess. I was hoping we could talk about it after we all got out but you’ve been avoiding everyone.” 

“And why is that? Why do you think things would have changed Eddie?” 

~

“No! No, no, no! Edward Munson, if you cut that rope, so help me god!” 

“You know I always love when you use my full name.” 

And the bastard cuts the rope. 

The next thing I know, he’s out of the trailer doing something entirely too heroic and the exact amount of stupid he always is. 

Before I can think I shove Dustin out of the trailer, the one not in the upside down, and send him to go help Lucas. 

“No! We need to help him! Can’t you see that he needs help!” 

“I know Dustin, I know. That’s why I’m staying here. But I need you to go find Lucas and Erica and check on Max. There are others who still need our help, Henderson. Please, listen to me and go help them.” 

I turn back into the trailer before he can disagree again, locking the door to make sure he doesn’t follow. Without second guessing, I jump through the portal, landing somewhat safely on my side. 

I manage to find a bike and just a few minutes later I’m riding as fast as I can towards the bat tornado that Eddie stands in the middle of. 

“Eddie you dumb jerk, you better not be getting yourself killed!” I scream at the top of my lungs. His eyes catch mine as a look of horror crosses his face. 

“Why the hell did you follow me? I specifically told you not to!” 

“Yeah, well I specifically told you not to cut the rope!” 

We fight off the bats as best we can until they all suddenly drop to the ground. 

Eddie and I stand breathing hard, our brains trying to catch up with all of what just happened. Eddie turns to me, a grin beginning to form. 

I punch him as hard as I can in the chest. And then I do it again, and then again and again, until I’m pounding my fists against his chest over and over again. 

“What the hell?! Honey, stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself!” 

I choke on hiccupping sobs as hot tears overflow past my lashes. 

“Don’t you ever do something like that again! Ever!” 

Eddie grabs my wrists to keep me from hitting him anymore. I keep trying until I realize his hold on me is too strong. 

“Princess, you gotta stop. I don’t want to see you hurt anymore, please stop.” 

He wraps his arms around me, stroking the back of my hair, pressing soft kisses to my forehead. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay. We’re okay, I promise.” 

“That was not okay, Eddie. Not okay!” I tell him looking up into his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I really am. But look, we did it!” 

He looks down at me thoughtfully. His eyes flit down to my lips. My breath catches. 

He couldn’t possibly be… 

His lips are on mine. And Eddie Munson is kissing me. 

Both of his hands are on the side of my face, rubbing his thumbs softly across the apples of my chubby cheeks. 

I pull away, “What do you think you’re doing?” 

“Kissing my shortcake,” he says with a smirk while I grimace at the phrase. He laughs at the face I make and kisses me again. 

I kiss back harder this time, getting lost in all things Eddie. The way his hair feels soft even despite being so dirty. His lips are somehow minty. He smells like smoke and old books. 

My heart soars. This has to be proof, then. Eddie must think of me the way I think of him. I can’t imagine ever kissing someone with this much passion if it didn’t mean something more. I smile into the kiss.

Footsteps sound behind where we stand and Eddie pushes me off of him, placing several feet between us. I look at him confused and hurt by his sudden change in behavior. He refuses to meet my eyes. He even wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, looking straight ahead at Steve, Robin and Nancy appearing in front of us. 

Oh.

He’s too embarrassed to let his new friends see him with the big girl? Is that what it is? Does he suddenly regret kissing me? Was it just a heat of the moment type of deal, then? I was the closest human thing, so he settled on me for a little ‘yay the world didn’t end’ kiss?

In my whole life, I don’t think anything has hurt as much as that did. 

~

An uncomfortable amount of silence fills the air.. 

“Things got weird after James left, but you know that. We both felt it, even though we tried to ignore it. Jason started to act like he ran the damn school even though we were friends at one point. I never saw you because we were never at your house anymore. Then I got held back and we basically had every class together. Then I got held back again and you graduated. I missed you. I really, really missed you,” he says the last part quietly. Almost like he was afraid for me to hear it. I hold back a scoff.

“I missed you so much, it’s ridiculous. I just wanted my shortcake back. My sweetheart, my princess, my honey,” he laughs to himself, I stay quiet. “God, I was such a jerk to you growing up. And not because ‘I had a crush on you’ because that’s bullshit, guys shouldn’t be allowed to be mean to girls with the excuse of it being ‘romantic’. I wish I had treated you better, been a little friendlier. I never realized how much you meant to me until your brother’s graduation.” 

He takes his eyes away from his feet to glance at me. 

“Do you remember that night? It was your first time drinking and you got so sleepy I had to tuck you into bed. You had told me about you and Danny at that party and it made me jealous. I’d never really felt jealous before, certainly not like that at least. It made me realize how deep my feelings for you went.” 

I remain silent, partly because I didn’t want to interrupt him when this is the most honest and vulnerable he’s ever been, out of respect, and partly because I was utterly confused and angered by what he was saying and claiming.

“You forgave me for leaving you alone at the dance, even though I never deserved to be forgiven for that. I didn’t even know how badly you were being bullied at school until you told me, that’s not a person who deserves to be forgiven.” 

A soft laugh and a pause. “I guess what I’m saying is…is I wish things had, in fact, changed after Vecna. And I know, that’s probably not something you want to hear because I know it’s not the same for you but I figure if you’re not gonna talk to me anyway, I may as well tell you, right?” 

He takes a step towards the house but I don’t let him get far. 

“What do you mean it’s ‘not the same for me’?” 

“Well obviously you’ve been ignoring me since I kissed you so, clearly it wasn’t something you wanted.” He shrugs his shoulders. “And that’s okay. I’m not saying you have to be with me or anything, I’m just saying…I don’t know what I’m saying.” 

“I’ve been ignoring you?” I ask, dumbfounded by his idiocy. 

“Well, yeah. You haven’t even been answering the walkie.” 

“And you think that was because I didn’t want to kiss you? Not because, oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that the second Nance and the others showed up you shoved me away from you? It couldn’t have been because it was obvious you couldn’t stand the thought of being seen with me?” 

Eddie’s face drains of color. 

“I can’t help but see now that this is all you think I deserve. A quick kiss when no one can see, right? A little making out before someone can figure who you’re with, huh?” 

“No! That is not at all what that was! I can’t believe you would think that. I pushed you away so you wouldn’t be seen with me!” he shouts, cutting me off. 

“What?” 

“The whole town wanted me for murder! Murder! They thought I was running a cult that killed my friend as a sacrifice! My friend! I didn’t want you to be tied to that anymore than you already were, so I pushed you off before the others could see. If someone, somehow went yapping about a girlfriend of mine and things went sideways when we got out of the upside down, you might have gone down with me and I couldn’t let that happen. I just couldn’t. I was going to tell you all of this as soon as I could but you never let me get the chance, and I see why now. I am so sorry it looked like I was embarrassed to be with you, but that will never be the case with me.” 

He takes my face in his hands and looks me directly in the eyes. 

“You are single-handedly the most beautiful person I have ever met. Inside and out. You have always cared for me and the old Hellfire Club. Don’t think I didn’t know it was you sending cookies on our campaign nights, even after graduating. I remember when I showed up at your house looking for James because some older kids had taken my lunch money in middle school, little you went after them yourself and did one helluva job doing it. You sat me down and cleaned me up. Gave me peas to put on my forehead.”  

It was like a forgotten memory was just pulled up by his words, I did remember that. 

“I could never be embarrassed by you, ever. I don’t care what people think. I…I love you. And I love your hair, and I love your eyes, and I love your laugh, and I love your stomach and your thighs, and I love your mind. I love you and I hope you can see it. I hope…I hope you can see me,” he finishes off in a very quiet whisper, tilting his head down and away from my eyes. 

I place my hands over his that still hold my face. 

“I have always seen you, Eddie Munson. Always.” 

His head jolts up to look me in the eyes once more. 

“God, Eddie, I’m so sorry. I know you’re not a horrible person, I should have known, I’m so sorry. God, you were literally being hunted for murder and I was crying about you being embarrassed by me? I’m so fucking sorry.” 

I shake my head and take a deep breath. 

“I love you, I have for so long. I love the way you smile, I love the way you’re not afraid to take up space, I love the way you’re there for Dustin, the way you were there for me countless times. I love you and your horrible music.”

“Hey, now. Watch it.”

I laugh, “I love you and I see you and I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re forgiven, I promise. You didn’t even really need to apologize in the first place.” 

“Yes, I did. Because none of that was fair to you.” 

“And none of that was fair to you, shortcake. It’s okay.” 

I look at his lips, and that’s all the cue Eddie needs to kiss me. Finally. We put our hearts into it, getting lost in each other. Getting lost in our sudden understandings of the other.  

“We’re both really kinda stupid aren’t we? Stupid and oblivious,” I say, chuckling quietly. 

“Oh, definitely. I mean, we’ve known each other for, what, at least ten years and we couldn’t figure this out without a bunch of drama?” 

“It seems very on brand for you actually, you’ve always been one for the dramatics.” 

“I love you.” 

“And I love you.”

[violetsaffron5]

Beautiful Disaster (1)

series masterlist • Chapter 2 →

↳ 1 | Memories

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

Gojo Satoru: confident, flippant, an all-around red flag. It’s a wonder why you started a multi-year tumultuous relationship with him that alters the course of your life and those around you.

cw: violence, profanity, heavy drinking/mention of drugs

words: 4k

an: i changed the name of this fic bc i wanted to pls don't come after me (or do i'm not your mother)

an2.0: broke this chapter into two parts so it wasn't a random 10,000 word first chapter, porn next chapter though

Taglist • Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists

April 2018

You wake six minutes before your alarm is set to go off. The room is dark and cold, but the bed you’re laying in is warm, soft and cozy. Your head aches from the lack of sleep you got last night, having stayed up entirely way too late in nervous anticipation for this weekend.

When you stretch, the warm body next to you pulls you in close to him, begging for five more minutes before you roll out of bed and inevitably leave.

You grant him that wish, snuggling in closer and place several chaste kisses to his lips before he runs his hands along the curve of your spine down to your ass, grabbing a handful, tugging you closer to him. You gasp, feeling his hard length press against your stomach and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, gliding it against yours, groaning softly as he rocks his hips into you gently.

“I really have to go, otherwise I’m going to be late.”

He huffs before kissing the tip of your nose, “You’re right. Utahime can be a bitch like that.”

“Be nice,” you scold while rolling out of bed and grabbing the bag you pre-packed before changing into your clothes for traveling, kissing your partner, ensuring them that you’ll see them later and head out for the weekend's festivities.

A bullet train and several hours later you’ve reached your destination, just outside of Kyoto at a beautiful venue. The main building is white, traditional with several other smaller buildings resembling the primary one scattered across the lawn.

There are several cherry blossom trees in full bloom where wait staff are setting up various chairs; the wooden archway and florists are getting the flowers setup along the aisle and on the arch posts.

As you take in the view around; the ponds with cherry blossom leaves falling elegantly into the water, the sporadic rays of the sun filtering through the branches of the trees, you absentmindedly run your thumb along your ring finger before sighing and continuing your trek along the cement path.

Walking inside the main building, the floors are marble, with a modern grand staircase leading up to the bridal suite where you’re greeted by several college friends, including Utahime, who walks over and embraces you awkwardly, never having been one to show physical affection.

“You made it, on time even.” She comments in surprise as you chuckle, telling her how you barely made it out of the house with a certain someone trying to coax you back into bed.

She grimaces before excusing herself to go smoke a cigarette, to your surprise, out on the balcony while the other ladies giggle, changing into their outfits for lunch.

Manami Suda makes her way into the room holding a glass of champagne and squealing before taking a seat at one of the vanities near you.

“Did you hear Gojo’s going to be here this weekend?”

You give a curt nod and take a deep breath before sitting in front of the vanity next to hers, turning on the curling iron. It’s a subject you were hoping would be avoided the majority of the weekend, but clearly you’re not going to get that lucky.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Listen,” she says, suddenly serious which makes your brows knit together, “this weekend is about Utahime and -”

You glare at her from the corner of your eye, grabbing a section of hair wrapping it around the tool before letting it go, watching the perfect curl fall next to your face.

“We’re all adults, I’m pretty sure I can handle seeing him for a few hours.”

“I just want to make sure there’s not going to be any drama between the two of you.”

“There won’t be, so let’s just change the subject, okay?”

“Okay,” Manami replies quietly, “want help with your hair?”

You nod and give a half-hearted smile as Manami walks over and begins curling the rest of your hair telling several anecdotes with the rest of the bridal party about Utahime, how they all met and how they’re so excited for this luncheon and the ceremony that’s going to take place in a few days.

All the while, you stare at yourself in the mirror, smiling along with everyone else and laughing when they laugh, a sour feeling filling the pit of your stomach as you think about the events that have transpired over the years that brought you here, by Utahime’s side, of all people, before she walks down the aisle to the love of her life.

September 2011

You’ll never forget the moment you first laid eyes on him.

Skin glistening with sweat in a basement of one of the off-campus university houses, dim lights accentuating the curve of each of his toned, sinewy muscles. Ivory hair damp, lip and eyebrow busted and bleeding from the cuts he received prior to you walking into the crowded space.

It’s a small, cramped room, filled to the brim with other students yelling, screaming and booing while he wipes the sweat from his forehead and blood from his lip with the back of his hand, chest heaving up and down with each deep breath he takes.

You’re making your way through the mob, hand cupped tight to Shoko’s as she leads the way to the front. There’s a yellow ring spray painted on the floor and inside only the white haired man and two others are located. One looks as if he’s acting as a referee, with strawberry pink hair on top and a chocolate colored fade just below. The other person is flat on his back, face turned away from you; he’s clearly been knocked out.

Through the horde a tall man appears, black skin-tight shirt, well defined muscles so visible through the thin layer of fabric he may as well not have one on, his gray sweats hang low on his hips as he bends over, checking the pulse of the boy on the floor.

The room goes quiet and the scent of copper and perspiration fills the room, more noticeable than before as you wait for the verdict. The man stands, with the other boy in his arms, hanging off his shoulder loosely, head dangling towards the ground and walks him out of the ring towards the entrance you just came through.

“Everyone shut the fuck up,” the peach haired man says, tattoos sprawling across his face, eyes small and somehow crimson as he speaks into a bullhorn when the the room explodes with rambunctiousness again. “You all know how this goes: betting ends once the opponent hits the floor, no touching or assisting the fighters in any way and no encroachment on the ring. Break any of these rules, and you’ll get your ass beat.”

Everyone in the room is intent on bloodshed and you wonder if you’re going to be able to make it out unscathed as you stand near the border of the ring. You’re being pushed and bumped into, the sea of people spilling their beers and other beverages as many of them try to make their way to the front, pushing you into Shoko so they can get a better view.

When you came to tour the campus last week and learn your way around, you met two people during orientation - Ieiri Shoko and Geto Suguru. Both were happy to help you get acquainted and show you around, both surprised to learn you were transferring to Tokyo Tech for your sophomore year - the same year as them.

You explained that you wanted to get further away from home, and how Tokyo Tech has courses that are more suited for your degree, so in an effort to be more independent, you opted to go ahead and transfer rather than procrastinating and trying to wait until senior year.

Shoko took the opportunity to show you to the dorms, to where your room is and let you know her room is just a few doors down the same hall, and Suguru let you know there’s a party at his place off campus during Welcome Week, and invited the two of you to come.

Shoko and Suguru were already acquainted with one another and in an effort to make friends, you agreed to come, but an underground fight club is not what you were anticipating to find out about during your first week at this college, or ever really.

The emcee continues to hold the bullhorn to his lips, introducing the fighters for the next round, “alright, this fucker needs no introduction, but I’ll give him one anyway: Gojo Satoru.”

The crowd explodes into whoops and hollers like this guys is a fucking celebrity of some sort.

“What’s the deal with him?” You lean towards Shoko, yelling into her ear so she can hear you over the noise.

“Gojo’s undefeated, started fighting the day Sukuna started this in an abandoned Wendy’s parking lot last year as freshmen. Everyone loves it - sick bastards.”

“How has the school not shut it down?” You ask, eyes trailing Gojo’s movements as he walks around the ring, stretching his shoulders and cracking his neck from side to side, spitting out some blood from his lip in the process.

“The big guy earlier, the one who carried that freshmen out - that’s Toji Fushiguro, one of the professors here. He helped Sukuna start this, keeping an ear out if there’s any talk in the school from the higher-ups. Occasionally these fights will be moved to someone else’s basement, or even back at the parking lot just in case the school decides to investigate.”

You nod in understanding as a young bleached blonde steps into the ring, cracking his knuckles. He looks to be wearing eyeliner, which seems to be an odd choice when getting ready to fight, since it would just smear with sweat, his ears are also covered in earrings which seems like an even worse choice in a fight with barely any rules.

“Who lives in this house then?”

“Sukuna, the emcee,” she nods her head in his direction, “Geto and Gojo, though it’s not uncommon for people to spend the night after these parties, since the house is so big.”

It’s true - the house is large but also a mess. When you made your way across campus and down the street the house sits on, you could hear the music blasting from the corner, several cars lined the driveway and even sat in the yard. Some of them looked incredibly expensive, others slammed or souped up.

The house itself is two stories, white siding with plenty of windows for natural light. There are columns on the front porch holding up a balcony on the top floor. The yard was a mess with red cups and empty bottles strewn across the grass. A typical college party house.

Inside, you didn’t get to see much as Shoko grabbed your hand and led you down the steps immediately.

“Here we’ve got a newbie freshman, trying to prove his worth: Zenin Naoya!” Sukuna states, raising his hand in the air.

You watch as the two men interact with one another with some familiarity, Gojo leans down, whispering something in Zenin’s ear, which clearly upsets him judging by the knitted brows and pissed off look in his eyes, he looks as if he’s about to murder someone while Gojo stands, bouncing on the tips of his toes looking mildly amused with himself.

The two take a few steps back from one another before Sukuna drops his hand. Zenin immediately takes a defensive stance while Gojo throws several punches at the same time several people jab you in your own side, trying to get a better view, pushing you out of the way and slightly into the ring.

“Fuck off, dude!” Shoko yells, grabbing you by the elbow and pulling you back into her.

When you finally look back into the ring, Zenin’s face is already bloodied and Gojo’s lip is bleeding again. Zenin grabs Gojo with his muscular arms and wraps a leg around Gojo’s, trying to grapple him to the ground, but without losing balance, Gojo’s other knee connects with Zenin’s face causing him to stumble backwards.

Zenin isn’t able to recover before Gojo lands a series of blows to his face before landing one final punch to Zenin’s nose, causing his eyes to roll back and his body crashing onto the concrete floor with a loud thud, blood from his nose spraying out and gushing down the side of his face.

The room grows quiet for a moment again before Sukuna mutters a “shit,” and grabs the bullhorn once again, “that’s enough for tonight. Go party, shit heads.”

Gojo doesn’t seem fazed, standing tall, breathing heavy again with blood running down his chin. He looks out into the crowd as if he’s looking for someone. There’s a churning in your stomach that happens the moment his eyes lock with yours; they’re wild and unhinged, which makes you queasy from the intensity. But at the same time, so beautiful, crystalline and blue, filled with a passion you’ve never experienced before.

Like a beautiful disaster just waiting to happen.

He grins at you, it’s lopsided and alluring, the dim light of the basement casting a golden halo over his skin. You smile back, biting your lower lip before Shoko grabs your elbow, pulling you back the way you came.

“We’re taking shots!” Shoko shouts as soon as you’re in the kitchen. The island is set up with bottles and bottles of alcohol along with stacks of red plastic cups lined, some empty to be used, others filled and left behind by the owner.

Shoko grabs a few of the cups, filling them with vodka before handing you one, clinking your cup with hers you gulp it down, wincing and scrunching your nose at the taste before she fills your cup again, taking another.

She’s able to drink more than you anticipated, and she seems unaffected when her friend, Utahime, appears by her side, joining her when you tap out after the back to back shots.

Utahime is in a pair of cute overalls, with a black shirt underneath, her silky black hair is down going past her shoulders with half of it pulled back with a red ribbon. Her eyes are a gorgeous deep set brown. She’s stunning when she smiles brightly at Shoko whose caramel brown hair barely touches her shoulder, the sides tucked behind her ear as she laughs at something Utahime says.

She looks less tired tonight than when you met her last week, the deep purple bags under her eyes less prominent, like she was able to get plenty of rest last night. She’s in pre-med, studying her ass off to go to a good medical school, on top of working part-time at a local restaurant where she works with Utahime, whom you met earlier in the evening while getting ready to go out with Shoko.

In an effort to not be attached to her hip all night, you make your way down the hall and out into the living room. It’s a large open space, a huge sectional couch taking up most of it with a coffee table in the center littered with more drugs than you’ve seen in your entire life along with several bottles of alcohol and a giant TV hung up on the opposite side with surround sound speakers.

Suguru is standing on the opposite side of the couch, facing the direction you just walked in from, talking with a few ladies with bleached blonde hair. Next to him is the emcee from the basement, Sukuna.

He smiles and nods his head, patting the pink haired man on the shoulder and excusing himself as he makes his way over to you. He greets you with a quick “hey,” and a hug which you happily return in your tipsy state.

“You good?” Suguru asks curiously as he pulls away, looking at the goofy grin on your face.

“I’m actually so good right now.”

You were secretly hoping to run into Suguru and be able to spend more time with him tonight. He’s incredibly attractive with his chiseled jaw, gauged ears and glossy ebony hair pulled back into a bun that sits on top of his head. Suguru has an aura about him that’s just calming and makes you feel good about yourself.

“I didn’t see you downstairs.”

“I came up to help Toji with the kid who got knocked out earlier.”

The two of you make your way to the couch as you explain how you must have just missed each other because the kid was being walked out when you arrived with Shoko.

“So, is this like, some fucked up wonderland for drugs?” You ask, nodding towards the coffee table.

Geto laughs before shaking his head, “nah, but Sukuna would appreciate that you said that. Want anything?”

You’re looking at the assortment of pills, powders and liquids on the table as Sukuna walks over, “your boy likes the powder, the other is a fan of the pill.”

“The other?” You look at Sukuna confused.

“Satoru,” Suguru says, “he was the one fighting in the ring earlier.”

You hum and watch as Suguru pops one of the pills into his mouth. “That freshman was already trying to fight him. Doesn’t the semester start in a few days?”

“They’ve known each other for a long time. Family businesses are entwined.” Sukuna states, lighting a joint before offering it to you, which you decline. The night is still young and you want to catch up with Shoko and Utahime again later, so it’s best not to get too fucked up and have to rely on one of your new found friends to care for you.

That’d be embarrassing on your first night out on campus.

“If you’re not gonna smoke, let's go get something to drink,” Geto offers before grabbing your hand and leading you towards the kitchen. You wave to Sukuna just before a girl with light pink hair grabs Geto’s other hand, getting his attention.

“Suguru,” she wines, “can you help me really quick?”

He purses his lips, looking over to you where you smile and say, “go ahead. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

You chuckle to yourself and roll your eyes as you walk down the hall towards the kitchen, placing your hand on the wall a few times to balance yourself so you don’t accidently trip over your own feet.

“Still don’t see why you care.” An icy tone from the kitchen says before you stumble in seeing the voice belongs to Gojo, leaned against the counters, a lit cigarette between his fingers before bringing it to his glossy lips, taking a drag.

“Because these fights are fucking animalistic, and your image affects me too.” There’s a woman with straight silver-tinted hair standing across the kitchen island, her eyes sharp and filled with furry as she stares at the ivory haired man, ignoring your presence.

Gojo shrugs, “sounds like a you problem,” the smoke be inhaled earlier leaving through his nose and mouth as he pushes off the counter, snubbing the cigarette along the way and going to the island to pour himself a drink.

The woman scoffs, grabbing her own cup and stomping out of the kitchen rather dramatically in your opinion. You purse your lips and avoid looking at him as you grab a new cup, dumping a dark colored soda you don’t bother reading the name of with one of the clear liquors, and pour a generous amount in, swirling your cup to mix them.

“You look uncomfortable.” Gojo says, making you look up to meet his gaze.

The lights in the kitchen are brighter than the ones in the basement, showing off his jawline and high cheekbones, all sharp edges. His eyes are somehow brighter in this light as well, more crystal clear like the ocean surrounded by thick, long, fluffy white lashes. He’s in a black shirt with dark jeans now, the cuts on his lip and eyebrow no longer bleeding.

“Uh, what?” Your brows raise and you blink several times because yes you are obviously uncomfortable from having accidentally walked in on their private conversation.

“Gojo Satoru,” he says smoothly, “you look great, by the way.”

Your cheeks flush at the sudden compliment, before muttering a thanks. You tell him your name in response and he says it several times, tasting it on his tongue like fine wine, eyes watching your every movement.

“That’s a beautiful name. Really suits you, just like that dress.” His eyes unashamedly wander your body before he comes to stand next to you. He’s confident, cocky and his mere presence is intoxicating. “You new?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Freshmen?”

“Sophomore.”

“Hm. Maybe we’ll have some classes together.” He grins down at you as you crane your neck up to him because he’s so, so much taller than he looked in the basement earlier.

“What’s your major?”

Gojo tells you he’s pre-law, hoping to get a good internship junior year and make his way into an Ivy League law school. You tell him your major and the classes you’re taking, but he just says “guess you’ll have to wait and see,” when you ask if there are any classes you have together.

You roll your eyes and laugh, taking a sip of your drink, watching him smile over the rim of your cup.

“You don’t seem uptight. I think most uptight people just aren’t being fucked all that well.”

You cough and sputter into your drink, not having expected him to say that, “is, uh, is that what her problem was?” You nod your head towards the entryway to the kitchen where the silver haired woman left, “she just isn’t getting fucked well?”

“Ouch,” he feigns hurt, holding his hand over his heart, “I’ll have you know I’m a great fuck.”

“That’s great,” you laugh awkwardly, “that’s really… good for you.”

Satoru smiles down at you, and you’re not entirely sure when during that conversation your back made contact with the wall behind you, but it did, his face inches from yours, leaning on one of his long arms caging you in.

“God, your laugh is precious,” his voice is low, honeyed. He grabs the cup you’re sipping on between two of his fingers, setting both his and yours on the counter next to you, and you just let him.

Turning your head up to meet his gaze, you feel your cheeks heat again, noses brushing alongside one another. Your lips part every so slightly when his ghost yours; you lean forward, ever so slightly, unconsciously trying to close the almost non-existent gap between the two of you but he moves away ever so slightly with a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

You find yourself gripping the fabric of his cotton shirt at the base of his stomach, feeling his hardened muscles clench at the contact, keeping him close.

His breath is mingling with yours in the tight space, smelling alcohol and cigarettes with each exhale.

“Gojo.” you murmur, almost a whisper, almost pleading.

He chuckles, hand finding its way to your hip as he threads the other through your hair, slotting his lips with yours. 

Gojo’s a graceful kisser, tasting of alcohol and mint from the cigarette. His lips meld with yours, snaking your lower lip between his teeth, tugging playfully, loving the sound of the soft sigh that leaves your lips as he does this.

The feeling of a little metal ball on his tongue takes you back for a second before you realize he has his tongue pierced, the thought sending a jolt right to your core, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

You can’t hear the ongoing party, haven’t been able to for a while now. The bass is still reverberating through the walls and the floor, from the tips of your toes through the rest of your body.

He pulls back, eyes half lidded flickering between yours and your lips, voice husky with arousal as he asks, “my room?”

@petalsrdead @sugurunicorn @niki-sun @lilith412426 @sofiaconlaz @lxvephxbic @kash2 @violetsapplejuice @iam-mia9 @laylasbunbunny @creolequeen11210 @xiaosie @lem-hhn @s-witch-bitch

[watermelonsugarsigh]

fraction of your heart ~ part one

summary: Y/N's math skills aren’t the best, but she thinks she has a pretty good judgement of character - and Peter Parker does not pass the test.

warnings: swearing, alcohol, sub-par math references

word count: 3.3k

A/N: I actually really like algebra but I also have not done a math course in seven years so pls don’t expect real technical terms in this fic lmao – I’ll try my best.

“Fucking hell.”

Y/N swore under her breath at the A4 sheet of paper in front of her, the letters and numbers printed in black ink swirling on the page and turning into a language she recognised but couldn’t quite understand. It wasn’t her fault that her roommate, Lauren, was snoring so loud last night she barely got any sleep. That’s definitely the only reason she could simply not solve for x at the present moment.

No, it couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the late hours she had been putting in assisting at the library, helping Sarah reorganise the science fiction section for the umpteenth time this year. Seriously, how many sci-fi novels could come out in one year that would require the need for another shelf extension?

Y/N didn’t really like the genre anyway. She never understood the appeal of aliens and robots fighting each other for rule of planets that probably wouldn’t be capable of maintaining any life form if the science was actually correct. Her distaste for the genre was only exacerbated by the inaccuracies that were rampant in every single chapter. After disappearing for five years and returning three years ago, Y/N hated the authors who continued to write about fictional universes instead of trying to study the actual alien life that we had encountered. Could they really call any of this science fiction anymore? After all, the real stuff was way more interesting than any of the crap that K.L. Jones could vomit onto a page in less than three months.

Why are you thinking about this right now? The voice in her head willed her to focus back to the test in front of her. Even though she knew she was not in the right mindset to be thinking about algebra, she had to do well in this test to keep her GPA up. She took a deep breath and blinked to refocus her eyes back on the test.

If x and y satisfy both 9 x + 2 y = 8 and 7 x + 2 y = 4…

This was question one, supposedly the easiest question in the entire test. Why the fuck did they have to put letters in math?

Y/N sighed and put her pencil to the graph paper on her desk, slowly but surely working out what she hoped were the right answers. Math just didn’t come naturally to her, not like writing did. However, she still hadn’t decided what to major in, so she needed good grades in all of her classes to keep her options open for next year. Her leg began to bounce underneath her desk and her eyes glanced to the clock on the wall, signalling twenty minutes left of the class. Come on Y/N, she thought. Just get some answers down.

Five minutes passed and Y/N had finally gotten into a bit of a flow. While she couldn’t be positive her answers were right, she was at least remembering what equations and functions would assist her in getting closer to the answer. 2 and -10 replaced x and y, and the inky mess of letters and numbers began to sequent itself back into legible sentences, until the sound of a chair pulling out from under a desk shifted her attention.

When she glanced up her eyes narrowed at the lean figure passing her. She watched as Peter Parker walked – no, sauntered – down the stairs of the lecture theatre, completed paper in hand. Peter frustrated Y/N to no avail. He was rarely ever in class, always coming in late or skipping altogether. Despite being in almost every class together, he managed to avoid her quite well, as if he could sense that he annoyed her. Every time she had spoken to him his mind seemed worlds away, as if he didn’t want to talk to her either. He had never been rude, but there was just something that irked her about him, something she could never quite put her finger on. Even so, he was top of the class, friendly with majority of the student body and faculty, and obviously incredibly intelligent. How else would he always manage to finish everything early?

Y/N stared with pure curiosity as Peter whispered to Mr. Leven, the course coordinator. He handed his paper over and as soon as it had been firmly grasped in Mr. Leven’s hands, started animating wildly with his own. Y/N couldn’t help but watch his movements as he emphasised the words he was whispering; she couldn’t hear what he was saying, but deduced from his movements that he was asking to leave early since he was finished. Y/N chuckled under her breath and flicked her eyes back to the paper in front of her. Peter should know by now, nobody leaves until class is over, even if –

Her focus was once again shattered, this time by the heavy door at the front of the room being opened to the university courtyard. Bright light shone in from outside, temporarily creating a blind spot in the centre of Y/N’s vision. She blinked to try and get it to dissipate as she watched Peter slip through the door, almost tripping on the uneven pavement outside but catching himself with lightning reflexes. Y/N wasn’t sure she had actually seen him correctly, vision still partially concealed by the light, until Peter whipped his head around to look back into the lecture theatre. Eyes wide, he quickly scanned the room to see if anyone had noticed his save and did a double take when he saw Y/N glaring back at him. He bit his lip, lifting a hand as if he were going to gesture to her but stopped himself, closing his hand into a fist and letting it drop back to his side. The door swung shut as they maintained eye contact, Y/N’s eyes narrowing just before she heard the ‘click’ of the latch returning to its rightful place.

Y/N noticed he had left all his belongings in the room, signalling that he would be returning, which begged the question: where the hell was he going? More importantly, how did he always seem to get what he wanted? It was like the rules didn’t apply to him; he was free to come and go as he pleased, just because he smiled that smile where his eyes crinkle up and he bowed his head in bashfulness. Every time he did that, Y/N couldn’t decide whether she wanted to pinch his cheeks or punch him.

It would have been easier to hate him if he weren’t so polite, which was one of the reasons Y/N hated him even more. She had never heard him say a bad word about another person, and was always trying to justify someone’s actions, even if they were directly attacking him. She didn’t want to pay this much attention to him, but he made it difficult not to; his puppy-dog demeanour lit up every room he walked in, and everyone noticed it. Girls and boys alike fawned over him. As if she was trying to prove a point to herself, she allowed herself a quick glance at Tara Gray, who was sitting diagonally across from her. Tara’s head was down, but Y/N could tell her espresso-brown eyes were flitting from the page to the door Peter had just walked through, probably hoping he would return. He never seemed to notice the endless stream of people paying attention to him, which only made him more mysterious and alluring. What was his deal? Y/N chewed on her bottom lip and pulled her eyes away from Tara just as her heart began to twinge at the sight of her. Sighing, Y/N used the last five minutes of class to scrawl answers to the rest of the test on her page, hoping at least some of them were right.

“Time’s up, everyone!” Mr. Leven clapped, jolting the entire class out of their heads with the sudden noise. “Please drop your papers on my desk on your way out, and I’ll have them back to you on Friday.” Y/N gathered her things and shoved them into her backpack, pulling out her phone and turning it off ‘Do Not Disturb’. She quickly replied to a text from Lauren about dinner, stating she would be home in an hour or so to cook. Slinging her backpack over her shoulder, Y/N pulled the paper off the desk and fumbled with the sheets in line to the desk at the front of the class. Her thumb slid against a sheet the wrong way, causing a sharp sting to arise. She winced and jolted her hand away from the page, turning her hand over to assess. A small bead of blood was slowly pooling diagonally across the pad of her thumb. Y/N wrinkled her nose at it and placed it to her lips as she dropped her paper on top of the pile on Mr. Leven’s desk. She gently ran her tongue over the open wound, pushing the door open with her shoulder as the metallic taste began to envelop her mouth. She was not expecting to slam into a brick wall of a person, causing her to bite down hard on her thumb as the two stumbled backward after their collision.

“Fuck!” Y/N yelped as the heel of her boot clipped the same piece of pavement that Peter had tripped over less than half an hour ago. With pain shooting down her thumb, she didn’t have time to register that she was headed face-first to the ground, until an arm wrapped around her waist and caught her, allowing her to regain her balance. Heart racing, she planted both her feet solidly on the ground before the mysterious person released her from their grasp.

“Are you okay?” Y/N recognised the voice before her brain registered the face in front of her. Still shaking the pain away from her thumb, she tensed, shuffling backward to create space between her and Peter.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just bit my thumb. Are you?” Peter’s eyes flickered down to her hand and back up to her face. She couldn’t get a read on his expression, except for the flush that creeped his way up to the tip of his ears.

“Yep, totally fine,” Peter stammered. “Uh, how did you bite your thumb?”

Y/N lifted her hand, giving Peter a half-hearted thumbs-up as she displayed her wound.

“Paper cut. I was trying to stop the bleeding.”

“Oh – do you want a bandage for that?”

“No, no, it’s fine-“

“I have one right here.” Peter pulled a small package out of his pocket, tearing a bandage off the strip and handing it to her. Catching Y/N’s furrowed brow, he explained. “I get injured a lot- um, I mean, in a ‘trip and fall’ kind of way, not like in a weird way...” Peter’s sentence trailed off as he realised he was rambling.

“Um, thanks. And thanks for catching me.”

“Don’t mention it. Uh, I gotta go.” Peter pulled the door open and slipped inside, leaving Y/N to stand facing the courtyard in bewilderment. That was the longest conversation they had ever had. If Y/N didn’t understand Peter Parker beforehand, she certainly didn’t understand him any more now.

...

Y/N kept herself busy over the next few days, trying not to think about how fucked her GPA was going to be once she received her algebra test results back. Fortunately, she had plenty else to keep her brain active throughout the week. Between her other classes, shifts at the library, and catching up with people other than her roommate Lauren, Y/N barely had had time to herself.

Still, there was this lingering thought that crept into her subconscious just as she transitioned each night from lucidity to unconsciousness. Y/N found herself dreaming of honey-brown eyes, stuttered sentences…and falling. No matter what Y/N seemed to dream about lately, she was always tumbling, fast to the floor – and something, or someone, was always there to catch her just before she jolted awake.

Friday morning came faster than she had anticipated. The sense of dread continued to encompass more of Y/N’s mind with each step that she took toward Mr. Leven’s classroom. Peter would most likely get an A, without trying, which only riled Y/N up even more as she pushed the door open to the class.

The class was a blur. To say that Y/N wasn’t paying attention was an understatement. Scrolling through social media on her laptop passed the time while she waited for the inevitable. Five minutes before the class ended, the words she had been dreading all morning were spoken.

“I have your tests here,” Mr Leven waved a stack of papers above his head, earning some groans from the collective of students. “Some of you did brilliantly. Others,” Mr. Leven made brief eye contact with Y/N before scanning over the rest of the class, “will need to brush up on their algebraic knowledge before the final.” Y/N sunk lower in her chair. “Please come retrieve your papers before you leave.”

Y/N slowly packed up her things off the tiny fold-out desk attached to the side of her chair. She took her time replying to a message from Lauren about their dinner plans for tonight, as the rest of the class grabbed their tests and filed out of the room. Once majority of the students had left, Y/N stood up and made her way over to Mr. Leven’s desk.

“Excellent work as always, Mr. Parker. And thank you for your help, in advance.” Mr. Leven handed the test over to him, a glowing 99/100 marked clearly at the top of the front page. Peter’s eyes flicked to meet Y/N’s, then quickly met the ground again. She heard a quick ‘thank you’ mumbled from under Peter’s breath as he swiftly grabbed the pages and strode out of the room. Y/N was now the only student in the classroom.

“Mr. Leven, I-“

“I must say, Miss Y/L/N,” Mr. Leven cut her sentence short as he handed her test back, now the only one in his hand. The numbers 52/100 shone like a red laser, the ink standing out in juxtaposition against the stark white sheet. “I expected much more from you.”

“I know,” she replied, eyes lowered to the floor. Tears threatened to prick in the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back before they had time to accumulate. “I don’t really have an excuse either. I just didn’t study enough.”

“You’re a smart woman, Y/N,” She forced a grim smile on her lips, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I know you’ll improve on this. Perhaps a tutor would help?”

Y/N pondered the question for a moment. Maybe a tutor would help. Half of her issue was that she never dedicated time to study; having time allocated each week would probably increase her grade exponentially. She’s sure she could ask Lauren for some help, or even –

“I’ve asked Mr. Parker to assist you in preparation for the final.”

He had to be fucking kidding.

Out of everyone in the class, and outside of it, it had to be Peter. She would have preferred to contact Einstein’s ghost with a Ouija board before having to try and converse with the one person who seemed to avoid her at all costs. Had Peter agreed to this? Y/N’s eye twitched, but she knew if she had any chance of her passing this class, she had to do everything that Mr. Leven said.

“Thanks,” Y/N said, attempting to be as enthusiastic as possible. “I really appreciate it.” She headed out of the building, stopping to pull her sunglasses out of her bag when the sunlight hit her face. She checked her watch, noting how much time she had before her next class. She sighed. Six more hours of classes and then she could finally go home and finish this day off with a shot of tequila and a self-prescribed bedtime of 9pm.

Ten hours and four tequila sunrises later, Y/N was relaxing on the couch, waiting for an appropriate time to head to bed. She had spent the last hour and a half complaining about her algebra class to Lauren, who was being less than helpful with her responses.

“Come on,” Lauren protested, moving to face Y/N, legs criss-crossing on top of one another on the couch. “Peter’s lovely. He’s in my calculus class and he’s so nice to everyone. Plus, that boy is a genius. If anyone can move you from a C to an A, he can.”

“Don’t tell me you’re in love with him too,” Y/N rolled her eyes as her thoughts trailed to Tara, how she sat up and tried to subtly fix her hair whenever he walked in. It was obvious she had a thing for him. Y/N would know, she did the same thing whenever Tara spoke to her. She finished the rest of her drink and set the empty cup down on the coffee table in front of her. The orange juice and cheap raspberry cordial (they were on a college budget and couldn’t afford proper grenadine) masked the bitter taste of the alcohol, although tequila was one of the few on the list of spirits that didn’t make Y/N’s stomach turn upside down. She could barely even look at a bottle of Midori without wanting to turn the exact same shade of green herself.

“What has he ever done to you?”

“Nothing. That’s the problem.” Y/N stole some corn chips from the bag in Lauren’s lap, earning a scoff from her roommate. Munching on them, she continued. “He avoids me like the plague. The other day, we bumped into each other, and it was like I had a contagious disease. He couldn’t get away from me fast enough.” Y/N omitted the part about him giving her a bandage for her finger, knowing Lauren would pounce on that information like a cat stalking prey. She looked down and examined the wound, now scabbed over and well on its way to healing. If she pressed down hard on her thumb it hurt, but other than that, she almost completely forgot it was there.

“He’s probably just shy. He seems pretty quiet in calculus.” Y/N let out a small ‘hmmph’ in protest, knowing she was not going to win this argument. “Just give him a chance.”

As if on cue, Y/N’s phone vibrated on the coffee table. She stood up and grabbed it, raising it to her face to unlock it.

Hey! It’s Peter Parker, I don’t know whether you still have my number saved. So Mr. Leven asked me to help you out with algebra. Just let me know when you’re free and I’ll make it work!

“Speak of the devil,” Y/N sighed. “Peter just messaged me. And I think on that note, I’m going to bed.”

Once Y/N had settled into her bed for the night, she decided to pull up the message from Peter again. She had been scouring her brain for the last five minutes trying to remember when she had given him her number, then eventually remembered that they had been in a group project last year. A project where Peter hadn’t spoken to her once. She decided to reply as cordially as possible.

Hi, yeah thanks for that. I’m free on Sunday if that works? We can meet in the library any time you want.

Before she had time to put her phone down, a reply had come through.

Okay, cool! I can meet you there at 11?

Sounds good, Y/N replied. See you then.

[pantoneyoongi]

let me love you

title ; let me love you show you the way love’s supposed to be 

part two

notes ; 

part of the till the night is over drabble series. drabbles are not released in chronological order, but the masterlist is set up as chronologically as possible. :) 

title is from mario’s “let me love you”

word count ; 1.3k

tags ; fluff-ish, angst but it’s pretty light, taehyung is dreamy alright, mildly cursed food/drink combinations if you think too hard about it but just go with it, pls go to masterlist for more / general tags 

it was an accident. 

really, it was. while you’re typically a bit clumsy on normal ground, you do alright for yourself on ice. taehyung, on the other hand, while normally stable on normal ground, cannot skate to save his life. 

so it had to be an accident - there’s no way taehyung can fake being that dirt poor of an ice skater just so he can crash into you, panicked hands fumbling to protect you as the both of you slide, back slamming into the wall of the ice skating rink. his arms frame either side of you, a well-executed last ditch attempt to avoid taking you down with him. except, now you’re caged in by him, taehyung’s face a hair’s breadth away from yours. 

you can feel his breath on your skin, light pants from the adrenaline rush of almost falling over. one palm slowly slides down the screen, till his hand comes to rest against the lower wall of the rink. you can feel heat flood your face in spite of the cold temperatures of the rink, because fuck if taehyung wasn’t handsome, all warm eyes and broad frame and soft hair that you’ve wanted to run your hands through since the day you met him. 

something changes in this moment. the lines you’ve been dancing around, the one taehyung pulls you dangerously closer to even as you try to escape - it’s undeniable that you’ve been toeing the lines of friendship since the very beginning. taehyung has you standing right where he wants you, and it puts your heart in your throat. 

“sorry,” he breathes, but still, he doesn’t move away. he’s enraptured by you, the pink dusting your cheeks, your parted lips that he’d give anything to duck down and capture. but he can’t. he can’t because he knows about jungkook, and he knows you’re not ready, and he knows it’s too soon. 

but god, you look so pretty. 

he backs away slowly, carefully pushing himself off the wall. you visibly breathe again, chest shuddering as you inhale, an embarrassed smile forming on your lips. taehyung hesitates, biting his lip, then seems to make a decision - his hand jolts out, palm extended to you. 

“let’s go inside,” he suggests. “get some hot chocolate maybe?” 

you stare at him, like it’s taking you a minute for your brain to translate what he’s saying. your eyes flicker from his face to his hand and back to his face, and his heart races. he hopes you’ll take his hand. he’d feel kinda stupid otherwise. 

your gloved hand slowly comes up to wrap around his, and you give him that pretty smile that he adores, nodding. “okay.” you pause. “but maybe it’s better if i lead.” 

taehyung gives you a sheepish grin and lets you pull him to the entrance of the rink. 

.

.

.

the ice skating rink has a sort of cafe section where you and taehyung find a secluded booth to sit in. you both order hot chocolate and your eyes shine at the prospect of curly fries, so taehyung splits an order of those with you, too. you sit in comfortable silence as taehyung sips his drink, burning his tongue despite the looks you give him while you munch on fries. 

taehyung doesn’t look at you much as you sit. you look at him, though, unconsciously memorizing the slope of his jawline, nose, cheekbones, the curve in his eyes, the fullness of his lips and the way they wrap around the rim of his cup. it’s only when he glances back to you that you realize you’ve been staring again, your eyes immediately flicking away to stare at the fries instead. 

taehyung tilts his head at you, setting his cup down on the table. “y/n,” he says. 

the way he calls your name has you looking back up at him. his lips part slightly, then he draws a breath in, like he’s preparing himself for something. 

“i have to tell you something,” he exhales. there’s an odd sense of finality to his tone, and you furrow your eyebrows, confused. 

“what is it?” 

he stares at you, like he’s looking for something in the way you look back at him. there isn’t hesitation so much as there is wonder, maybe even the faintest hint of hope, if someone were to look carefully enough. there’s a certainty in the way he watches you, eyes searching yours. 

“don’t run away.” he reaches for your hand, covering yours with his, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “just hear me out for a little bit.” 

you nod, waiting. maybe a part of you knows what’s coming. but you let your mind trick you into safety, into pretending you don’t know, not until taehyung says it out loud. 

“i like you.” 

when he says it, there’s no shyness to his voice. he doesn’t look away, but you feel his hand grip yours just the tiniest bit tighter, betraying his confidence. “i like you, y/n. and i don’t expect anything out of this. i don’t expect anything to change. i know there’s…” he trails off, and it’s the only time he looks away from you. he inhales. “i know things are complicated with jungkook. but it didn’t feel right not to let you know.” 

your head feels like it’s spinning. at the same time, it feels like all time has stopped, the whole world frozen with taehyung’s confession hanging in the air, slowly descending on you as you absorb his words. but he’s not done yet, smiling gently at you. 

“i just want you to know that i’m here,” he continues. “that if you want me… if you want me, i’m all yours. ‘cause…” 

it’s the only time he hesitates. 

“‘cause if i haven’t read it all wrong, i think you like me too.” 

you freeze. taehyung can feel it the moment it happens, your hand tensing underneath his. the problem is that you can’t tell him he’s wrong. but you can’t tell him he’s right, either, because you don’t trust yourself. you don’t trust the way you feel, you don’t trust that what your mind is thinking is an accurate reflection of what your heart is feeling. the only thing you know for a fact is that jungkook still has a grip on your heart, and if he still has you in the palm of his hands, then how can you say with certainty that you have feelings for taehyung? 

you don’t say anything for awhile. taehyung watches the emotions flit across your face, a warring battle of everything you don’t know how to feel. the only comfort he has is that you don’t pull your hand away from his, even as his thumb continues to rub reassuringly against your knuckles. 

“taehyung.” 

when you say his name it’s like a plea. your voice is fragile; you look at him like you’re begging him to take it all back. to undo everything he laid out in front of you. but taehyung doesn’t back down, gaze locked to yours. like he can take anything you give him. 

you gnaw on your lower lip. he hates the heartbroken look in your eyes, like you’ve done something unforgivably wrong to him. when you speak, it’s with a shaky breath, words stunted and wavering. 

“i… i’ve been in love with… him… for almost half my life. i don’t - i don’t know what it’s like to have feelings for other people. i’m,” you pause, trying to find the words. you know he can see the desperation in your eyes. how scared you are. “i’m terrified,” you whisper. “because you mean a lot to me. i don’t want to lose you. but more than that… taehyung, i don’t want to hurt you.” 

“and?” 

you blink at him, taken aback. your whole heart is out on the table in front of him, but he stares at you, eyes unreadable, focused so closely on you like he doesn’t know how to look away either. 

you wish you could understand him. you wish you could understand taehyung the way you understood jungkook. everything is easier when you can brace yourself for the pain. 

“a-and?” you finally manage to stammer back, confused. he locks you in place with his gaze. 

“and what if all i want is you?” 

read the next part: slow motion

other drabbles in the series: maybe you’ll let me borrow your heart || permanent damage

series masterlist: till the night is over

taglist: @mwitsmejk @doublejeon @landl7xoxo 

[enflaem]

i need to talk about himeko's interaction with hi3 himeko's sword because i've been thinking about it so much while listening to nightglow and im spiraling. ofc, the interaction is there as a little easter egg to himeko in the everlasting flames short, BUT i'm interpreting it into my portrayal in two ways.

the first is a "rebirth" that comes the moment himeko begins her work on rebuilding the express — for a literal interpretation, the fire could specifically be related to necessary tools used; however, i like this to be more metaphorical. the rebirth in the fire being the moment that a new purpose ignites a fire within her. as i talked about here, himeko felt incredibly lost up until the point she found the express and was able to successfully repair it. returning it to its home, the journey that was to come by doing such, became her new purpose: one that she will always face with a smile, no matter what the future may bring. in many ways, the warmth the express first showed her, paired with the unstoppable force of curiosity's flame, makes her life begin anew.

the second is in regards to the imaginary tree and will have some hi3 spoilers for those who havent played yet so skip this read more section if you prefer to avoid spoilery headcanon ramblings fndsjakf,

while it's never clearly stated what exactly happened to himeko, we do know she was lost in an imaginary space. the imaginary tree, ever expanding with its branches of different worlds, timelines, "bubble universes" swallowed up from the sea of quanta; as shown with otto, anyone who dares meddle with the tree will die, absorbed into the roots of the tree to potentially begin anew somewhere else. while one does not have to die to exist in another timeline or world (ie, bronya/seele/mei) there is a certain... finality when one is lost within the imaginary spaces. furthermore, it seems time within the imaginary trees branches does not have to follow a definitive timeline: one can be lost in one world, and be reborn again in another within seconds. one who has been dead for centuries can be saved in another timeline, another bubble, without impacting any of the others. though it is still mostly "speculation" based on VA similarities/story excerpts, luocha appears a similar case: another otto, whose life before seems incredibly vague and hidden in secrets (especially with the coffin. pls do not let that be my queen kallen i BEG of you mhy)

this just makes me think that himeko's death & that final moment we see in everlasting flames was sort of... like the last tie of her to that world being snuffed out. kiana would carry on her legacy, carry on that flame of passion for the world she had hoped her students would share. in that moment, the imaginary tree created life anew; the himeko we see now in hsr, completely unaware of the himeko that welt yang knew from his world, but with an overwhelming feeling that she does not entirely belong where she is...

[koulakoukoula2003]

Could I request a Levi x Irish!Reader?

I myself am Irish and I have been obsessing over Levi.

Oohh yes, anon, I did see your request. I've no idea how to write an Irish character AHAHAH I haven't been in the UK for long so I hadn't had the chance to visit Ireland (I really want to!), but I do know that you ppl are hot af and stubborn and rebellious and drink a lot and your accent is impossible to understand AHAHAH imma try and write the accent and mindset I'll probably get it wrong but pls ignore.

Genre: fluff, Comedy, lightly implied smut Pairing: Levi x Irish!Reader And since we're in on this, send me asks: [Favourite character] x any ethnicity!Reader and imma try and come up with a small scenario THAT WILL ALWAYS BE UNEDITED CUZ IM SLEEP DEPRIVED LMFAO

You groaned in irritation as you sipped down your beer and you stared at the shelves behind the counter. The bartender and owner of the pub was a friend of yours. You did spend most of your nights there.

Being a Scout was an absolute pain in your arse, but it was certainly better than being like those gammy blokes in the military, slacking off all day like the useless pieces of shits they were. At least the Scout Regiment was trying to bring some change, to find a few parts of the truth.

You sighed heavily.

Six years.

You had been in the Scout Regiment for six bloody years and you were already a bloody veteran. You had lost more than a few shams to those deadly beasts.

"Want a refill, y/n?"

You nodded "Aye, thanks, Jonny," You watched the man as he poured you another glass of beer and he brought it to you.

"So long as you're paying, Section Commander,"

You chuckled and brought the glass to your lips to take a sip. You sensed a man sitting beside you and you turned and looked to see Levi. Your eyes widened and you immediately turned back to your beer, forcing it to your mouth and starting to gulp down.

You had to get out of here, but you still had to finish your beer first. It would be a waste to leave it, even though the big glass was full but it was no challenge for you to gulp it all down in just a few seconds.

"Aight, I'm outta here," you tossed a few coins on the counter and you waved at Jonny as you made your way out of the pub pretending you didn't see Levi there. "Keep yer change, will ya?"

"Wait! Y/n!" Levi cried out to you and you only hurried out a little faster.

How could you face this man? Last time you were together in the same room, you had gotten him drink, and you had pushed him against some wall, giving him the best makeout session of his life and next thing you knew, you were both on the floor, naked, with the biggest hangover you've ever dealt with.

You and Levi have been avoiding each other ever since.

How could you face this man?

He probably wanted nothing to do with you. A useless drunk with an accent than nobody could understand. A useless freak with ginger hair (that was quite literally twice his size) and huge bright blue eyes. You were different. You had been called a freak a thousand times growing up behind the walls for the simplest fact that you were just different.

The Scout Regiment was the only place where you were accepted for who you were. Your unique characteristics did not matter in the Scout Regiment. The only thing that mattered was you willing to lay down your own life for a cause.

It was snowing outside. It was that time close to winter but you could always handle the cold better than anyone else. The freezing temperatures never really bothered you.

And with alcohol running constantly in your veins, you expected nothing less.

"Stop, you brat,"

Levi caught you and flipped you over to look at him with unfathomable force. He wrapped his arms around you pulling you against him.

Oh but you were absolutely stubborn.

You pressed your hands on his chest and tried to push him away but he did not budge an inch.

"Let me go, you bloody gobshite, or I'm gonna lamp your ass on the-"

"Can't you just shut up so that we can talk this through like normal people?!" You were really getting on his nerves. Shorter as he was, he was still stronger than you.

"I'm not normal!"

"I'm not normal either!" He growled at you and you finally stopped smacking your hands on his chest.

Yes he wasn't normal. You were there when Erwin dragged him out of the Underground. He was a short, ugly and skinny man and he had the gal to want to be with a Goddess like you. With those pretty bright blue eyes and your long, ginger hair that were always braided to perfection. Hell, you were taller than him. What kind of misfit couple would you two make?

But you were perfect, and you had no idea.

He finally released you and you took a step back away from him.

"Fine," you looked away from him. "Let's talk, but I don't to-"

"I like you, y/n," He shut you up with that sentence and your eyes widened. "You may not remember shit of that night cuz you were drunk as fuck, but for me? It's all I've thought about ever since,"

You couldn't believe it. Someone... actually liked you? "L- Levi, I-"

"You don't have to say anything," He turned his back to leave. "Just thought you should know,"

Before he had the chance to go away, you caught his hand and made him turn to look at you and you kissed him. He melted right in and he wrapped his arms around you and you cupped his cheeks pulling back slightly.

"I fancy you too, you jammy buck,"

He smiled at you, even though he had no idea what that meant.

You really had to let him in on your unusual vocabulary.

[caterpellas]

munich nights • harry styles 2

summary: touring inseparably as best friends and musicians, yours and harry’s relationship takes a cruel turn in munich.

warnings: smut (thigh riding, oral f receiving, girl on top n i think that’s it)

genre: bestfriend!harry, friends to lovers(?), angst, smut, it’s the works y’all

pt 2/3 (one is here)           word count: 6k

a/n: this is the penultimate bit now :) i’m actually super nervous to post this lol i’m a mess anyway pls enjoy 

chapter 2 playlist

you couldn’t lie, you cried yourself to sleep that night, with a movie you sort of cared about playing in the background. harry didn’t love you, and what used to be the strongest friendship in mankind had now crumbled apart and returned to a state of distant nothingness. harry didn’t love you. he didn’t have to say those words to you for you to know they were true. the realisation hit you about twenty minutes after harry left like an arrow to your chest, that was so recently covered in his ejaculate. not only were the pair of you virtually inseparable, you worked together as well and you had absolutely no idea what was going to happen now. you felt too ashamed for him and his band members to see you now after last night.

waking up in a damp patch of tears in your double bed, you try your hardest to get on with your day and forget last night. a bath felt appropriate so, just before midday, before you’d even greeted your friends yet, you ran one. the tub itself was freestanding and as deep as your head when you sat in it, the victorian taps centred in the middle. it was definitely the nicest bath you’d had in your life. you stripped off last nights clothes that you had shamelessly fallen asleep in and hoped to god the hot water of your bath would erase the images of last night, but the feeling of harry’s touch burned hotter then any water.

almost an hour later, milo, your drummer, knocked on the door of the bathroom you were still in.

“y/n? you in there? we haven’t seen you since last night before you and harry left. is everything okay?” milo’s voice reached you through the oak walls. you wanted to tell him that nothing was okay, and that you’re most important relationship ceased to exist but you couldn’t bare to tell anyone else, especially your friend and bandmate of 5 years.

“i’m all good, i’ll be out soon.” you make it downstairs another half an hour later, the need for a cup of tea driving you to the kitchen. as you reached the breakfast bar right next to the kitchen, you saw the sickening mop of brown curls that you were hoping to avoid. he turns to face you at the sound of your slippers against the tiled floor.

but instead of plain ignorance, a much more unexpected reaction finds its way to harry as he greets you, “y/n! we were beginning to think you’d drowned in that bath.”

you stood in bewilderment at harry’s attempt at a joke, wondering why he was trying you like all of last night never happened to either of you. but you picked this over cold silence so went along with it, “yeah sorry i needed to recover from the jet lag yesterday.”

it was sort of true, you were feeling the time difference and were grateful to be able to rest today. aside from plans to go out this evening, you were all going to rest up at home. which meant being in close quarters with the man you were trying so hard to avoid. making your cup of tea on the old aga kettle, your friends went back to discussing tour details, chatting about last and what was in store for the rest of the trip. you got a feeling their plans for the future weren’t going to be that plain and simple.

-

by the evening, you had all found yourselves comfortably sat around the fire outside, eating takeout from a german restaurant nearby. it was really good, and although you and harry had barely spoken more than those few words to each other things weren’t as awkward as you were dreading they’d be. usually, if things hadn’t gone the way they had, you and harry would be sat next to one another, your sides touching all the way down whilst you giggled over something harry was telling you.but as it goes, milo and olly sandwiched you between their huge bodies.

“does anyone know the name of the club we’re going to tonight?”

your ears pricked up at the mention of going to a club. you didn’t realise you were going out-out.

“panorama, i think? i put harry’s name on the guest list.”

it occurred to you that you were heavily underdressed for an exclusive nightclub. you had a good feeling they wouldn’t accept your cargo pants and grubby trainers. jumping up from the bench you run to the door, “i need to go change!”

you opted for an ever so slightly classier look and went with a small pleated skirt and a cropped cardigan. not a combo you’d usually wear, it was a little more fitted then you’d choose for yourself but you’d compromise a little to get in the club. you stuck with the dr martens purely for comfort and called it a night there. you loved your style for many reasons, but the most important one was that it was low effort. it took a maximum of 20 minutes to get ready and you took pride in that.

the group had organised to have a limo to share instead of a taxi, so harry was a little more protected from paparazzi and also to fit the size of your party. they were all waiting outside on the drive when you got downstairs and in unison, their heads turned to face you.

sarah grinned at you, “i love it.”

“very cute,” charlotte smiled as well.

you responded with a “cheers” before daring to look at harry. he was wearing a silk shirt and slacks in a baby pink colour. nothing different to harry’s usual attire but the outfit still sent a chill down your spine. well that, and the way he was looking at you. it was dark out but you could still see how electric his green eyes were as they stared directly at you. you’d been caught off guard, harry wasn’t someone you were prepared to connect with again this evening. in fact, you’d convinced yourself that you didn’t even care whether harry was going to be there or not (utter lies of course). but by the way he was looking at you, you knew this wasn’t the end and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

-

the vip section of ‘panorama’ was plush and teal coloured, with flower garlands and strip lights along the ceiling. you had a lounging area all to yourselves, with big padded benches and cushions. it was luxurious and if you weren’t so highly strung from having harry sat so near by, you’d fall asleep on it. you drunk so many cocktails by this point and your worries seemed to fade away into the loud club music.

“y/n.”

harry was sat next to you, but distantly. he was chatting to mitch before he said your name. no matter how loud the music playing was, you’d still always here his voice. turning to him, you asked, “harry?”

he’s smiling at you, like nothing has changed, “how come you haven’t danced yet this evening?”

it was a good question- you loved to dance more than you loved to perform. harry would always make fun of you, the shimmy you would do when he was playing disco in the studio and the way you always swayed along to fleetwood mac, pretending to be stevie nicks on stage. the reason you weren’t dancing is because you were far too obsessed with the closeness you had achieved with harry in your booth.

“i haven’t quite been feeling it just yet,” you teased back and you felt as though things with harry had gone back to normal, so you dared to ask, “are we good?”

harry’s boyish smile took over his face as he gave you a definite, “yes.”

“well i’m feeling more in the mood now so i’ll see you later,” you get up to exit, smoothing out the pleats in your skirt and struggle to take your eyes away from his. dreaming he’ll follow you, you make your way into the adjacent room filled to the brim with people. the song was bassy, but mellow and you could immediately feel your body moving to it. before you knew it you were almost next to the dj booth, opposite the ceiling high speakers and the song was perfect. you hadn’t felt this relaxed since yesterday’s plane journey and you let your unease pour out of your limbs as they writhed to the music. it took a few minutes to take you out of the trance and realise, although surrounded by a mass of people, you weren’t alone.

a tall figure was behind you, and without turning you knew who it was. you could smell his cologne easily- it was gucci of course and it was heavenly. not even daring to turn to him, you stayed facing away, afraid of what it meant to have him in your view. his hands, large and firm, gripped your shoulders, like he did twice yesterday, and his hot breath was against your neck.

“can i join you?”

the question itself was said innocently, this wasn’t the first time harry had asked to dance with you, and probably wasn’t the last, but it felt different to you now. god how you missed the simplicity of harry being unattainably yours as a friend. finally bracing yourself to meet his eyes from almost a foot above you, you spun, his arms falling from your shoulders to your forearms.

smiling up at the familiar face of the love of your life, you said into his ear, “of course you can dance with me.”

dancing with harry was nothing sexy or erotic but it was the most intimate you’d ever been with him, before last night. harry loved to dance almost as much as you and the best part of his whole personality was nothing other than his devil-may-care disposition. it reminded you of the times he’d twirl you while you were stood somewhere completely out of the blue, or when he’d snap his fingers along to a song and by the time you’d joined in the two of you had broken out into a full dance routine just for the sheer fun of it.

harry grabbed your small, clammy hands and pulled you into him, and then straight back out as wild cherry played through the speakers and you inaudibly laughed at his initial dance moves.

“is that all you’ve got styles?” you smirked at him before laughing at the ridiculous version of the hustle he was trying to pull off. he looked way better than you’d ever want to declare, looking fresh out of the 70s whilst funk music played to his dance moves. it suited him down to a fine art and the song was tailor made for his steps. your hips circled to the song and you remembered just how much you love it. pulling out some more unconventional dance moves you went for the peace signs over your eyes and harry’s head fell back in laughter whilst watching you.

this was it. the perfect moment you were so afraid of losing with him. you understood now that whatever yours and harry’s union was, it was far stronger than you ever gave it credit for. harry and you were back to normal again and instead of last night’s beer goggles making you far more candid then you’d like, now your feelings were crystal clear. harry was all you’d ever want.

as boney m. began to fade in now harry’s dancing had become more intense and now the pair of you were far closer then you’d ever danced together before. one of his hands made a brave attempt at looping around your waist and spinning you, making your skirt flare up in the process. usually you’d be shy and care, but only harry was paying attention to you and the thought of him have a small peak at what was under your skirt didn’t even slightly bother you. one of your arms clutches his lean bicep and you moved in unison together, only inches away from one another now.

“i love watching you dance,” harry whisper-shouted in your ear. unprepared for that statement, you stare into his eyes as they flashed in the colours of the lights. his gaze is unfocused, undecided on if it will look into your own or watch your lips, dampened from the small lick you gave them. his own lips were distracting you as well, the bottom one pulled in by his teeth, a habit he picked up when he was feeling conflicted. you wished he wasn’t such a hard man to read. the only definite you held onto right now was that he wanted to kiss you, reaffirmed when his eyes closed and his head ducked to meet your own.

“harry,” you place a hand on his exposed chest, “i can’t kiss you.”

he knew why. he knew that it crossed the boundary you weren’t meant to cross again. but much like you that didn’t want to stop him. so, despite himself, harry ignored your remark and hesitantly placed his lips on yours. the feeling of his kiss muted the sounds around you and in desperation you urged him to kiss you harder. no matter the height difference between the two of you, harry and you still felt perfectly matched. harry’s hands came into your tangled hair and gripped at the top of your neck, his lips even firmer against yours at the new angle. this was far more passionate then last night, and you were seeing harry in a whole new light. he wasn’t just your friend, an unrequited love and now a one time sexual partner but something more on par with your own emotions. harry’s zealous kiss seemed to correspond with all the feelings you had never spoken about him. but then he pulled away, leaving you empty again. you frowned at him, “why did you stop?”

he simply smiled back at you, soothing your nerves, and took your hand as he pulled you through the crowds to a curtained doorway. the room he took you to was a semi circle, the wall surrounded by a settee, and the floor was carpeted and plush with cushions and blankets. it reminded you of a harem, which made you question harry’s choice of destination. it was far quieter in here, the music now a dull bass in the background.

“why are we in here?” you looked over to harry who had already taken a seat on the sofa.

“i thought you’d want more privacy,” he grinned at you. harry’s attitude towards the whole thing was starting to irritate you instead now. why was he acting like this whole thing was so casual? did it not affect him like it did you?

“you’re kidding right? what even is this?” you scoff at him, crossing your arms across your chest. you were pissed.

harry’s brows creased in confusion, “what’s the matter?”

“what’s the matter? how can you ask me that? things are different now harry and you know it.”

he knew it. he just couldn’t find the courage to tell you that he’d wanted things to be this way for the past 2 years. it’s why he was constantly cracking jokes or messing around with you, making you smile and laugh brought him more joy then anything else in his life. it’s why he was so overwhelmed by white hot jealousy when he saw your mouth around that arsehole sound tech’s dick.

“jesus, y/n we’re friends aren’t we? why do we have to talk about that anyway, we’re having fun.”

“because harry,” you huff at him, “unlike you my feelings are a little bruised from last nights events.”

his eyes momentarily filled with guilt, “i know that was- not decent of me.”

“uh you think? i love you harry but you’re not pulling this crap on me again,” you tried to sound stern but his eyes melted you. you looked away but his hand reached for yours. this was it though. your temper had gotten the better of you and you were ready to leave him here and say goodbye to any relationship you formerly had with him. if he did anything again to you like he did last night you were sure your dignity would crumble into unfixable pieces. sighing, you finish off by telling him, “i can’t do this anymore harry.”

“i don’t want to lose you,” harry’s eyes were filled with pleading.

“you should have thought about that before i put your cock in my mouth,” you snapped at him. you hated to admit that saying out loud what you and harry had done had turned you on immensely. harry’s pupils dilated in synchronisation with yours. he played right into this.

“so you’d never do it again?” why was he asking you this?

“no. i wouldn’t.” he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of knowing what he did to you anymore. even though the sight of him with his half buttoned silk shirt, damp with sweat as he lounged on the settee, his high waisted trousers spread apart along his long legs made your legs feel like mush. your voice was so convincing that harry’s face fell and in an instant you wanted to eat your words.

“y/n, i’m sorry if i overstepped,” he stood up and wiped his hands on his trousers, “do you wanna just go back to being friends?”

there was only one right answer to that question;

“fuck no.”

you jumped harry then and there and he fell back onto the padded seat, hands strongly gripping your waist. you quickly kissed him and in shock you retreated, your eyes locking, before connecting your lips with him again. his hands move south to your hips and then to your buttocks, giving your scantily clad cheeks a squeeze. you knew from a past discussion harry was an ass man, after a few drinks together one night you were talking about likes and dislikes. it reminded you of one preference in particular. grabbing a fistful of his hair, you tugged it gently and an audible moan fell in between his lips against yours.

“fuck, y/n do that again,” he mumbled into your mouth and you responded with another pull on his curls. his hips jerked up to meet the middle of your legs and between the thin material of his trousers and nothing covering your crotch other then the thin material of your underwear, little was left to the imagination. you could feel harry’s erection growing the more your hand tangled into his hair. your bare thighs clutched tightly by harry’s hands and you could tell they were longing to hold your bare ass. with your other hand on harry’s bicep, you moved it down to his hand and guided it up along your cheek and he hummed in satisfaction.

“hey harry,” you spoke into the kiss, “you remember california?”

how could he forget- you had spent the whole day drinking on the beach and that was where you had confessed about all your likes and dislikes, giggling like little kids the whole time. who knew that several months later that secret information would become so beneficial?

“what about it?” he asked as your lips traced down his neck to his chest.

“do you remember what i told you?”

a switch flipped in harry’s head and he suddenly knew what you wanted. his thigh came between your legs and you put your weight onto it eagerly, and his hands rocked you back and forth on the cotton of his slacks. the friction was exactly what you needed and you had never been more thankful that harry had listened so intently to your confession; you loved dry humping.

harry’s gaze was on you as you continued to grind on him, and the sight was enough to turn him from semi to fully hard.

“does that feel good?” harry asked you and you were too shy to answer him, only whimpering in response, “tell me y/n.”

“it feels so good harry,” you moaned out. your pace had begun to quick as you needily searched for your release. you could feel your wetness seeping into the material against his thigh and a faint squelching noise could be heard underneath your mewls of satisfaction. your hand fell across the bridge of his nose, outlining his sharp cheekbone and rest along his neck, licking his lips as he watches you get yourself off on him.

on a normal occasion, you’d be too embarrassed to ever ride someone’s thigh, it made you the centre of their attention and that frightened you. but knowing that harry’s undivided recognition was different. you loved having his hands and eyes all over your body. not that he knew, but it was his after all. if he wanted it to, it could belong to him.

“harry,” you gasped, “i’m going to cum.”

to know he was about to witness your undoing just like you’d seen his thrilled him.

“cum for me y/n,” harry pushed your hips for you, gripping the flesh of your ass, and rolling you back and forth till you let out a sob as you came all over his thigh. your forehead fell onto harry’s shoulder as you recollected yourself. that was the first time you had ever cum just from humping. and it was on harry’s leg. the familiar blush crept up your arms to your neck and cheeks and you couldn’t bare to lift your head off of harry’s shoulder.

“y/n,” harry’s voice gently interrupted, “not to rush you or anything but my trousers really are soaked.”

his fingers slid down your thighs to help you off of his leg, your own like that of a baby deer. you weren’t expecting harry to unbuckle his belt and slip his trousers off his legs, the thick wet patch taking up a lot of the fabric.

“what are you doing?”

“well you don’t expect me to keep them on do you?”

“i sort of thought you’d just leave again.”

harry’s face flushed in shame, “i am really sorry i did that last time, y/n. it was a dick move.”

“just a little,” you give him a half smile to let him know you couldn’t stay mad at him. stood in awkward silence, your panties dripping with your cum and harry in nothing but a shirt and boxers, you didn’t know what to say. it wasn’t common  that you’d find an uncomfortable lack of words to say to harry.

finally, after one too many moments in silence, harry beckoned you with his finger, “c’mere.”

suddenly you found yourself snugly wrapped in his arms, your cheek to his chest as he held you.

“harry i-“

“don’t just yet please.”

so you stayed that way for a little longer. you realised that this could be the last chance you hold him like this, so you mentally noted every last thing about him you loved. his smell, typically of gucci, but underneath the artificial scent a more clean, personal one of clean bedding and shampoo. his arms, and how their length seemed to engulf you better than any of the softest, plushest bedding in existence. his lips that you could feel on the top of your head and how the feeling of them on your own was tattooed to you now. you knew that if you ever kissed anyone in the future it couldn’t penetrate the lasting layer of his.

he pulled away from you a few moments later, looking down over you. searching his eyes for any clues to his own thoughts from under your lashes, you found nothing. it didn’t mean you were expecting what came next.

as you started, “i understand if you don’t want to do this anymo-“

“i love you.”

the words hung in the air in stunned silence, and you were in too much of a state of shock to know how to take them. he loved you? was he saying the way he always did or did he mean he loved you the way you loved him?

“harry you don’t mean that you.. does that mean you, like, love-me-love-me?” you sounded like a teenager, your juvenile question was all you could muster up.

“i’ve always loved you y/n,”

“i know you have bu-“

“will you just let me finish please?” his fingers pressed against your lips to silence you, “you always talk without actually listening. let me a second please.

“i realised that you’ve never been my friend. don’t interrupt. you were never my friend because you were always like way more than that. friend seemed too small a word for us, you know? and then that day after i saw you and that shitty sound tech fucking in your room i was so angry and jealous and then i realised how much i wanted to be in his place. but you and me had already had such a good relationship i was worried i would ruin it by changing our dynamic. then on the night i met camila, you were so distant from me. i was upset and camila was into me so i was going to fuck her, but i couldn’t. i haven’t had sex with anyone since i saw you and-“

“his name was josh.”

“y/n i really couldn’t give a fuck what his name was. but anyway last night that prick wouldn’t leave you alone and i had to do something, and i wasn’t planning on taking things where they went but by the time you’d brought up my tattoos i was in too deep. i hate that i left you last night. i wanted to say all of this then, but i was too scared. so i left and hoped things would go back to normal between us. but our normal is nothing compared to what we had last night.”

overwhelmed, you sat down on the settee, leaning back to accommodate all of this information.

“so you want to be with me?” you asked him, still not believing it for yourself.

harry beamed at you, “i know, crazy right?”

“i just- i,” you stuttered over your lack of words.

“you don’t have to feel the same why i just figured it was best to be honest.”

you couldn’t help it, but you snorted at him, “you’re kidding right? i have not wanted anything more in my entire life.“

harry knelt down in front of you, and from this height you to were level. you could see eye to eye as equals now. his lips came to your forehead and softly kissed you there, your eyes fluttering closed. it was contentment to know he was finally yours. moving even closer to you, harry moved your legs aside and came between them and you had to prevent him from getting too close so your still-damp panties didn’t come into contact with his expensive shirt.

“you know,” you could feel harry’s lips turn upwards into a smirk on your forehead, “this means you don’t have to feel quite as worried about me fucking you anymore. i’m yours now, y/n.”

he lowered onto the back of his heals, taking his head to the level of your breasts, and he moved back a bit to take in the sight of you. you had to have been a mess, your black eyeliner probably smudged and your hair knotted around your head. your legs were still wide apart, giving harry the greatest opportunity to see under your little tartan skirt.

his pupils widen at the sight, “i can’t believe i’ve never seen you in a skirt like this before. you look so cute in it. it gives me great opportunity to do this,” his hands slid up your thighs slowly and surely, eventually coming down so that they were on the inside of your legs, just before your crotch. you were at his mercy at this angle, and he used it to his advantage. his long fingers brushed up against your clothed core and you whimpered at the sensitivity.

“are you still sore from earlier?”

you nodded and swallowed the nervous lump in your throat. his fingers moved up towards your hips, bumping your clit in the process and grabbed the sides of your tight underwear. pulling them down your legs, he got to see your pussy for the very first time. mouth practically salivating at the sight of your already wet lips, he began kissing along the insides of your legs, working inwards from the knee. he stopped at the edge of your thighs, teasing you with no touch. you hips were writhing at the need for contact and he pinned your thighs down, restricting you.

“i want to undress you first.”

his nimble fingers make quick work of the tiny buttons on your cardigan and it only just occurred to you that you’re not wearing a bra underneath. your bare sternum is exposed and you can tell harry is surprised to find you completely naked behind the cardi. slipping it off your shoulders, your perky breasts are finally unleashed for harry’s viewing.

“we never fucked,” you blurred out.

“what do you mean?”

“me and josh never had sex. i haven’t actually had sex in about two years.”

harry’s jaw sunk slightly at your confession, “but- how haven’t you?”

you felt embarrassed by this. no one ever compared to harry so why would you waste your time on them? you mostly only fooled around with josh because you needed a distraction from harry’s constant sex appeal.

“well josh and me never actually got around to it since he left the crew and aside from him there hasn’t been anyone else.”

you couldn’t believe you were saying this to him right after he’d undressed you, the air con hardening your nipples. harry couldn’t really concentrate on what you were saying, especially when his name was mentioned and your breasts were on full display to him. ignoring your rambling, harry’s mouth came down onto your right nipple, circling it with his tongue and ending your words with a gasp. your nipples were more sensitive then you’d initially realised, or maybe it was just because it was harry’s mouth encapsulating them, but the sensation felt like enough to make you cum from that alone.

“harry, i,” you sighed out breathily. sentences weren’t able to be formed presently, it was all too much. not for harry though, who had no qualms about saying, “i want to fuck you in nothing but that little skirt.”

you tried to press your thighs together, his words jolted down to your clit and you needed some kind of release. harry’s mouth went back to your boobs and down the valley in the middle, licking down it, to your pierced belly button and finally his head disappeared under your skirt. you instinctively placed your feet up on either side of the sofa to spread your pussy even further for his access.

his tongue mercilessly licked up from your taint to your clit and you bucked in delight.  the muscle of his tongue pressed hard against the sensitive ball of nerves in quick movements, lapping at it rhythmically. you couldn’t control the volume of your moans now, cussing incoherently to him. but it wasn’t enough, you needed harry fully.

pulling his hair, you were so close to cumming but you couldn’t let it happen yet, not till he’d been inside you.

“harry stop,” you manage to get out, “i need you in me.”

he drew back as soon as you spoke and you leant forward to unbutton his shirt, but you lost your balance as you go forward, falling on top of him onto the cushioned floor. you both burst into giggles at your clumsiness, it was something that you joked about a lot together. you hadn’t loved anyone more then you loved harry right now, his chuckles like music to your ears as you lay on him nearly naked, his curls sat on his forehead.

“i love you,” harry told you, his hand cupping your cheek from below.

“i love you too,” leaning to kiss him, you moved your hand down and gripped his erection, forcing a moan from his lips, “now make love to me.”

he wasted no time in finishing off unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, and you ground your hips into his erection, forcing a groan from his lips. you were so close to feeling harry inside you, only boxers in the way of you two. you sat back and slipped them off his hips. before you got a chance to line him up with your walls, harry interrupted you, “are you in birth control?”

“yes,” you blushed. he smirked at you as he grabbed his hard cock in his hand and positioned it with you. you sunk down ont his cock, sighing is feel yourself being filled. you had craved this feeling for far too long, and harry filled you so well.

“fuck, y/n,” harry’s eyes closed when you engulfed him fully. adjusting, you began to bob up and down on his dick slowly, getting used to the foreign sensation. it stung a little bit as you hadn’t been filled in so long, but the need for harry numbed any of the pain. harry’s sweaty hands came up to cup your breasts, playing with your nipples as you began to quicken your pace.

“how do i feel inside you? does it feel good?”

you could only nod back, his cock hitting your g spot so well from this angle. as you began to speed up, your tits bounced delectably in front of harry’s face and he had to take over dominance, slamming his hips up to meet your own. his erection pounded into you, your mouth eliciting depraved whines. your skirt was swinging around your barely clothed ass and giving harry only sneaky glimpses of how the two of you were connected.

with harry’s hips moving more erratically, you could tell he was close.

you leant your mouth into his ear to whisper, “i want you to cum inside me.”

that was enough to tip harry over the edge, and so you could both finish together he reached his thumb under your skirt and thumbed your clit, sending your body into a heavenly orgasm. harry unloaded into your walls as you clenched around him, the both of you finishing in unison. flopping down onto his chest, he left his cock in you, both too fucked out to move yet. when he had softened, he slipped out of you, making you wince at the feeling.

“so,” you said into harry’s chest, “does that mean you’re mine now?”

his hand rubbed the small of your back, “i’m yours.”

[ezwhump]

Let the Cat Out of the Bag - pet whump, pet-sitting, pampered pet, introduction of characters 

“Explain it to me again.”

“Aw, fuck off, Farhan.”

“No, seriously!” Farhan spat a seed shell into the solo cup and  took another swig of his beer. “This woman puts an ad in the fucking paper, for christ’s sake, asking for someone to what? Look after her kitty cat?”

He buckled over, eyes creasing, and barked out a laugh. 

“No you got that exactly right, man,” Gregor let his mouthful of warm beer dribble back into the bottle and set it down on the table. “She’s got some sorta terminal illness, says she won’t be home enough to look after it, yeah? That’s where I come in.” 

Farhan snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah but she could just sell it though. Get some dough before she croaks.” He leaned over and snatched the paper off the table. “Pet-sitting. Fucking hell. I can loan you the money, you know.” 

When Farhan got serious he got fancy, started picking up his ‘t’s, shortening his vowels. Offering money. It made Gregor raise his hackles. 

“When you think about it, it's not a bad gig. I get to fuck around in some OAP’s house all day and I get paid for it. If I do a decent enough job maybe I get in on the will.”

Farhan shook his head, flipping to the sports section of the paper. “You’re a fuckin’ vulture, man.”

Gregor smiled to himself and drank his warm beer anyway. Farhan didn’t really understand, it didn’t matter what the job was, it mattered what the pay was. And he’d do pretty much anything at this point (except become Farhan’s charity case), so long as food got put on the table and the bills were paid, even looking after some geriatric’s pet. 

Even if he was allergic to cats. 

--

The car pulled up a few streets away from the old lady’s, and Gregor opened the passenger door. 

Farhan leaned over and rolled down the window. “You got your cell?”

Gregor patted his jean’s back pocket. 

“Right, good. Wallet, keys?”

“Fuck off, Farhan.” Gregor was getting irate, jumping on the spot with his hands in his front pockets. It was too fucking cold outside for chit-chat, he wanted to get into the warm house and start eating. 

Farhan laughed and cranked up the window with a “right, right”. 

The house was in a cul-de-sac of luxury townhomes, redbrick with intricate railings and a courtyard with a fountain. Gregor was suddenly very aware of his ratty sneakers and DIY buzzcut. He spat into the bushes and rang the doorbell, stopping short of shouting up to the closest window. It seemed like the sort of place where people would stop and stare if you spoke too loudly, and god forbid he caused a kerfuffle and the police were called. 

He patted his pocket for his dab pen and rolled it between his thumb and finger while he waited to be buzzed in. 

“Katz residence.” 

Gregor jumped and turned to the intercom speaker on the side of the doorway. He pressed the little purple button. 

“Uh, hi. It's Gregor. Enache. I’m here for the pet-sitting gi- job.” 

He waited for a moment, wind whipping inside his jacket and making him shudder. Then the intercom buzzed and he heard a lock click, so he took his cue and went inside. 

After processing the excessive grandeur of the lobby, Gregor took the elevator up to the top floor. All the hallways were cream with soft white lights in sconces and glittering from chandeliers. The floors were marble, and Gregor almost laughed when his soles squeaked and tracked dirt if he scraped them hard enough. 

There was a soft tinkling music coming from somewhere and all the doors were painted a deep plum colour with gold handles. The whole place smelled like sweet perfume. Part of Gregor wanted to break everything just to check if it was real (especially the little statues on the antique tables), part of him wanted this whole place to be preserved in resin so he could stare at it forever, but he mostly just wanted to see if there were price listings for any of it. The pawn potential made him lightheaded. 

“She’s gonna pay you,” he reminded himself, stopping at door 19 and rapping the golden knocker. It was shaped like a cat. 

  A boy answered the door. Well, not really a boy, though he seemed younger. He looked around Gregor’s age, 22 or so, but they were leagues apart. 

He had pearl-blonde hair that stopped at the base of his throat and his lanky frame was a little taller than Gregor. He was wearing a long-sleeve shirt and slacks made out of the same muslin fabric, but his feet were bare and clean. 

“Pleased to meet you Mr. Enache.” A woman’s voice called out from the guy who stepped aside silently to let Gregor in. 

Salma Katz was sitting on a white lounge sofa in a skirt and blouse, her legs crossed at the ankles. She wasn’t geriatric by any stretch of the imagination but she did have an air of vulnerability around her, like something was wrong and she was using every vice at her disposal to hide it. It showed in the way she picked at her nails or kept tucking back her blonde bob. 

“Hi.” Gregor stood dumbly in the entryway, eyes darting to all of the fanciful objects littered about the place. Little markings of money, of privilege. He felt sort of trapped. “Um, so where is the little guy?”

Salma was blinking sluggishly, and Gregor couldn’t help but compare it to when his mom had gotten hold of Farhan’s Vicodin after his dental surgery last month. Hazy, drugged up. It was probably painkillers or something. 

“There are a few things I should go over before I leave, but just in case there’s a list on the refrigerator.” She gestured for Gregor to sit and he did, slumping into the love-seat across from her, a glass coffee table between them with a small vase of peach roses in the middle of it. 

“I’m very invested in the comfort and safety of my pet while I’m enjoying treatment, and thus very meticulous. . . about who watches him.” The boy had taken a seat on the floor in front of her lounge chair, and Gregor had to drag his eyes back to Salma. 

“Right. Well, I mean, why put it in the paper then? Any dickwad off the street could come in.” A humoured smile lit up her face, and Gregor caught himself. “Uh, with all due respect, ma’am.”

Salma laughed, an airy, unbothered sound. “Well, just prove to me that I made the correct choice young man, and we won’t have a problem.” Her eyes trailed Gregor up and down and he tried not to squirm, setting his jaw and meeting her eyes. They glinted. “Now, Leander has a particular diet which I included on the list. I presume you can cook?”

Gregor nodded. He’d had to learn a long time ago. 

“Wonderful. Taking him outside the apartment is discouraged, however we do have a balcony if you’ll be needing to smoke or he needs fresh air. He takes a bath most nights, and you’ll know what to wash him with. Oh, and of course if you need anything from him all you need to do is ask.” 

“It’s trained?” Gregor felt his eyes widen, impressed. Cat’s weren’t usually trained, but he should’ve figured given the context of the whole situation. 

“Indeed he is. Now, I wouldn’t want him to get lonely, either. He has his own room but he does enjoy company. Would you be available to watch him five days a week?”

Gregor thought for a moment and nodded. He’d cover his bases, pay his dues, on the weekend. And besides, pets didn’t really require all that much effort. 

“Perfect. Does 7-12 feel appropriate? Of course we’d provide you with adequate food, a bed, transport, and whatever else you require to perform your duties.” She was talking slowly, like she was trying to coerce a wild animal into a cage, but Gregor wasn’t going to complain. Living in a place like this all day, free food, a fucking car, and all he had to do was refill a food bowl and wrestle it into a bath sometimes? He felt like he’d stumbled upon a get-out-of-jail-free card. 

“Sure, no problem.”

Salma smiled again and smoothed her hand along the boy’s hair, standing up and gesturing for Gregor to do so as well. Gregor tried to keep the incredulity from showing on his face. 

She reached out and took Gregor’s hand, clasping it briefly and then turning back to the boy. Gregor looked around again for a tabby, a persian. A fucking tiger. 

Salma ushered the boy forward, and he stood graceful and silent in front of Gregor, avoiding eye contact. 

“Mr. Enache, this is Leander. My pet.”

--- 

I’m taking a short break from Russ & Lennon, but hopefully you guys will enjoy reading about Gregor & Leander as much as I enjoy writing them :) I’m starting up a new tag list for these two so if you’d like to be included pls just let me know! <3 - ez 

--

tag list: __ 

[ofgentleresolve-a]

HOW I RUN MY BLOG.

SPEED: slow! i’m slow af and i’m very sorry- basically consider me the tortoise in the tortoise and the hare. i may take ( a lot ) of time to get back to you both thread wise and on discord/ims but i promise i will get back to you one way or another! i don’t really use the queue either you’ll find that this blog will have sporadic activity ranging from almost nothing to daily activity almost every day.

the best way i would describe activity on this blog would be steadily sporadic. i have three rp blogs including this multi- so activity tends to be spread over them all. typically i try to have some kind of activity going on on at least two of my three blogs although it’s more likely that it’ll be just one blog.

REPLIES: as stated in the previous section, i am slow, but i will get back to you, i promise! give me like a month max. i try not to drop threads, but if i don’t feel there’s something more to explore in the thread, i may drop...generally the way i go about replies is i pick one of my three blogs and do all of my drafts in there at once ( and there’s usually a lot rip me ) and if i have the energy, try to get another draft out of the way on another blog. when i say i do all my drafts at once though, i mean at least two per day...this way, i can balance my writing on here with my writing outside of the tumblr, my other hobbies ( reading, drawing, etc. ), and my other responsibilities!

i’m open to almost any kind of replies although at least on this blog, i seem to be more geared towards multi-para bordering on novella responses. generally, i try to match length with my writing partners although i will occasionally spill over if my muse has a lot more to say jskdlfj. typically i will tackle drafts in chronological order, but here, i have found it easier to organize my drafts by muse since i’ll already be in that mindset.

tldr; basically ferre is consistent with replies...it just takes them a while to get to all of them. please have patience!

STARTERS: honestly i don’t like doing starter calls, mostly because i can’t guarantee that it will be an interaction that is going to last. but on the occasion i do feel in the mood, i try to keep them short- it’s a good starting point and it allows my writing partner to write however much they feel they want to.

i do ask that multimuses specify at least either which muse of theirs they want to write with or which muse of mine they want to interact with. my logic there is that if i’m offering to write you a starter and you are asking me for one, you should at least give me an idea of what kind of interaction you are looking for.

on the other hand, if you plot with me, i am more than happy to write a starter for you. plot with me pls. it makes this so much more fun!

INBOX: so take the time i told you i would need in the replies section and multiply that by either two or three. i’m so sorry, ic memes can be tricky for me to answer mostly because the restraints can be either freeing or limiting for my muse. i have to be in a certain mood to do them...but like with my replies, i will get back to you eventually. although i am more inclined to not answer certain asks...don’t let that discourage you though!! all i ask for is patience.

muns who rp primarily through askbox and memes will probably not be a good match for this blog.

SELECTIVITY: ngl i’m a hardass when it comes to deciding who i follow and who i don’t. writing takes energy; energy i want to use, but nevertheless energy. that like everyone else, i have a limited amount of, especially considering the writing i’m doing outside of tumblr. as a result, i want to make sure that i’m enjoying myself in every interaction and thread i have. 

i stated in my rules, but i follow blogs that have a focus on character development ( via headcanons, metas, etc. ) and on the writing. i tend to avoid blogs that have extensive aesthetic queues or lots of pictures...nothing wrong if you like doing that, but i would prefer to keep my dash to strictly writing. if i don’t follow you back, please respect my decision. i promise we can both find rp partners better suited to our respective tastes.

WISHLIST: outside of more friends for all my muses, there’s really none at the moment... ( although i guess it’d be nice to have at least one new romantic ship...but i won’t be actively seeking that out. it’s stated in my rules, but i don’t do romantic ships unless there is very clear and palpable chemistry between the muses and i am comfortable with the mun )

HONEST NOTE: i know i sound like a hardass both on here and in my rules, but i promise i’m not that high strung. i just tend to be cautious about newcomers, but once we’re mutuals i like to think i’m a low-maintenance writing partner....if you want, you can ask my current writing partners and i’m sure ( hoping ) they would agree.

communicate with me if something’s wrong- i’m not a mind reader and i won’t try to be. also keep in mind that rp is a give-and-take kind of activity...honestly, just try to be reasonable and considerate and i’ll do my best to be the same for you <3

TAGGED BY:  i stole it from myself!! TAGGING: steal it and tag me if you want!!

[coulson-is-an-avenger]

jade & Serena hugging 4?

Serenade hugging #4 - comforting hugs. AAAAAA TY FOR THIS ONE SAHAR THIS WAS A REALLY REALLY FUN PROMPT FOR THEM UWU🥺

Slight context for this snippet bc these are ocs lol: Jade and Serena are both anomalies (aka people with some sort of supernatural ability), who are currently living together with a couple other similar folks to avoid Discovery™️. Serena is basically an empath, and Jade can manipulate darkness (most relevantly; to hide herself). They’re also pining idiots pls enjoy

It isn’t that hard to find Jade once Serena knows how to look.

Maybe it’s practice, maybe instinct, or maybe it’s the humming power beneath Serena’s skin that broadcasts her peers’ emotions into her head like a broken radio, a skill that admittedly, makes it much easier to track down a woman wrapped in shadows.

Jade’s emotions in particular have always been a particularly interesting subject to Serena. As much as Jade excels in hiding her physical form when so desired, her emotions have never been difficult to access, and Serena has found that she always carries her feelings so tightly, so protectively, as if she can’t bear to let anyone else know how deeply they exist.

Jade thinks of herself as the leader of their little cell of outcasts, Serena knows, and as much as they all look up to her for it, it also makes her very anxious to appear too… affected. She can’t bear to slip up, and the perfectionism follows her, quite fittingly, like a shadow.

Serena’s grown to know the tug of it well, and, over time, she’s learned how to follow it. To trace the echo of Jade’s evergreen courage even after she disappears from sight, following the footprints of her isolation and her responsibility and her fortitude and her quiet pride. She follows it now, breathing in the lingering trace of her friend’s heart, and letting her feet follow.

She breathes in deeply as she comes to a stop before the panel leading up to the roof of the apartment, readying herself for the climb. She supposes this little escapade makes sense; Jade has always loved the stars.

Once she tugs herself up onto the rooftop, she looks around, feeling the echo much closer now, and yet still not seeing the woman she seeks. She does her best to focus, honing in on the sensations as they exist presently, and steps forward, approaching a section of the roof, tucked up right beside a protruding wall that houses another story of apartments.

The emotion in the air goes taught as she approaches, squeezing with fear, but then Serena whispers Jade’s name into the silence, her voice gentle as can be, and the anxiety dissipates like fog in the sunlight.

There’s a small chuckle, a warm exhale of sound, and then the shadows unwrap from around Jade’s shoulders, darkness falling away to reveal the shape of her, tucked in the corner. She wipes the lingering ink of the night from her hands and looks up, revealing a dark brown face and kind, weary eyes. Her eyes are always so dark, Serena notes, dark enough as to be nearly black, no matter the lighting. And oh, how those eyes always see her.

“Serena,” Jade says, holding her name like it’s precious, cupped in those kind palms.

Serena takes a seat next to the extraordinary woman on the tiles of the roof, and looks out at the sky.

“I thought you might be up here,” She says, quietly. “Stargazing?”

Jade looks at her for a long moment before her eyes dart away and she curls her knees up to her chest.

“Something like that. How do you always find me like this? That’s not something many people can do.” She’s trying to derail, to delay the inevitable, but Serena can’t help but answer her.

“Comes with the trade, I think. Feelings can be sort of like a beacon.” She shrugs slightly, drawing her own legs closer.

Jade nods, exhaling a snort. “Makes sense. Not even Blake knows how to keep up with me like this.”

Serena smiles. “Well, someone has to pick up his slack.”

Jade pffts and smiles, and the silence that falls over them is companionable while it lasts. For a moment there’s just the pair of them, shoulder to shoulder, sharing the autumn breeze.

Jade finally sighs and looks resolutely away.

“I was just… worried,” She admits, so quietly it’s almost hard to catch. “You can see the police and scientists from here, you know, the people who wanna pick apart our brains and- and blame all their problems on our gifts,” She looks down at her hands, holds them close to her. “I’m not worried for me, though. I’m good at escaping things like that, always have been, but there’s, there’s three of you now, and I don’t— what if I can’t—”

“Jade,” Serena lets the name fall like a prayer, interrupts Jade’s shuddering breath. “You aren’t responsible for us, you know that. We trust you, sure, I know I-” Her voice quiets without her permission. “I’d follow you anywhere, but you don’t have to carry that weight. None of us asked you to.”

Jade hugs her knees to her chest, shakes her head and rocks gently. “I know. But if I don’t…” She shakes her head, ventures on. “I’m so used to losing family. I don’t want to lose you too.”

Serena aches for her, feeling the pooling depth of loss that stretches down into the core of Jade’s history, the loss that has swallowed up so much of her life. Serena reaches out and takes her hand.

“You won’t lose us, Jade.” She smoothes her thumb over the woman’s knuckles, moving back and forth, brushing against her ace ring every now and then. “And you’re not alone. You won’t be.”

Jade turns her eyes on Serena with such a cautious reverence that it freezes Serena in place, and then strong arms are around her waist, and Serena’s sliding her hands over the gorgeous planes of Jade’s back, and Jade’s cheek is pressed against her own, breath hitching against her chest, and Serena closes her eyes and pours every bit of love she has into the embrace, squeezing the other woman and hoping she can feel just how loved she is for her vulnerability, not just her strength.

“Thank you,” Jade whispers into her hair, just a breath, before pulling back from the embrace and steadying herself on Serena’s shoulders. Serena frees a hand from behind Jade’s back to reach up and take one of her hands and press a careful kiss to it; meeting Jade’s eyes as she does so, her own expression reverential.

Serena fancies she can feel a flicker of affection in Jade’s heart as the woman blinks and then nods, bringing her kissed hand to her chest and holding it there, cupped against her heart.

“Not alone,” Jade says quietly, her words the echo of a promise she had given to Serena when they first met, and Serena is happy to gift the words back with open arms.

“Never alone.” She agrees.

[darkmindsotome]

Tempting Thought

Fandom: Tears of Themis 

Pairing: Artem Wing x (non gender specific) MC

Word count: 1,783

Warning: Light angst, pining, lovesick.

Written by: darkmindsotome

Fantasies. Exploring the unknown through the ability to apply imagination to a situation or thought. The children around him growing up certainly had a firm hold on the idea and the ability to put it into practice. It was an ability he envied in a way. When others could escape using nothing but their imagination he could not without the aid of a book.

His mother had encouraged him to try to join in which he did, but found it hard. How were you supposed to play along with someone else’s game if they were the only ones able to see it? Eventually, she gave up and had to agree with his teachers when they said he showed no signs of childhood imagination.

It hampered his ability to bond with others slightly in early years but later on he found it easier to utilise his social skills on children that were older than him. The ones that had passed the age of playing games based solely in realms of non-reality.

Fantasy N. (pl. ies) 1. The faculty of inventing images, esp. extravagant or visionary ones. 2. A fanciful mental image; a daydream 3. A whimsical speculation 4. A fantastic invention or composition; a fantasia…

He was familiar with the term. It had been written in many of the pages he had seen over the years both in his beloved science fiction and in court. The fiction was always something glorified, it was pleasant. The reality of the court had fantasy as a basis for eliminating testimonies and claiming false evidence.

It wasn’t a big thing it certainly didn’t hold him back. So why now was he plagued with fantasy?

He was not oblivious to his attraction. It was something he was more than aware of, just had no experience in how to do anything about it. He thought he could be happy simply being near the object of his desire. Gaining precious minutes alone with them during a case or on a weekend when he finally worked up the nerve to invite them to see a movie.

A wonderful idea… until recently. The close proximity to them alone in the dark did reward him with what he thought he wanted. The chance to be alone with them. But it also gave him something he hadn’t predicted, fantasy.

The fantasy of what it might be like if he had less resolve. If he allowed his instincts to take over. How it would play out if they shared his feelings and allowed him to continue. Would their perfume wrap around him like a blanket and stain him in their scent or would he cover theirs instead?

Would the warmth he felt from them by just sitting next to each other in the dark become a burning fire, melting his moral compass and allowing him to finally show them the full force of his love?

This was something that had become a familiar issue when watching movies together. He frequently had to watch the movie before they even planned their nights in or out. Attempting to do otherwise resulted in a one-sided conversation where he had little to say. His minds focus had scattered far from the plot on the screen leaving him lost for opinion. He didn't want to ruin their private after-party Q&A session.

What started as a small thought developed into what others could call a deviant fantasy. He inwardly winced at the idea that Vyn might latch on to such a thing and make him the focus of some sort of therapy.

The issues on the weekend during private moments alone began seeping into work hours. He had always been aware of them and the little changes during work. How he seemed to be able to tell when it was laundry day by the familiar suit that showed itself once a week. When they changed their shoes because they had grown a half-inch taller.

Now those same things inspired new fantasies. The idea they might hurt their foot and require him to find a new pair of shoes to place on their feet. How when he lowered himself to rest at their feet, he might be the happiest he ever was if he looked up and saw them focused on only him. How that extra bit of height placed their lips at the perfect position for stealing a kiss.

Thoughts of that familiar suit ending up damaged and him coming to their aid supplying a perfectly tailored suit that proved how reliable he was. How he might be called upon to help with a stubborn zipper and be part of a heated office encounter as both their suits are turned into a crumpled heap on the floor.

It was a fantasy he knew to be far fetched as much as it made his heart race imagining it. He felt guilty, even though he would never act on such things without consent. He also knew imagining his work partner in such a way was inappropriate. He was caught between the devil on his shoulder pointing out and threatening to unlock all his hidden attraction and the angel on the other telling him to ignore all that. To focus on the pure feelings behind the fantasy, the desire to want to be with his partner. To be with them and cherish them. Not to continually act on the impulse to give in to carnal acts.

5:45 pm

The firm was only open until five and yet here they both still were. Cooped up in his office pouring over paperwork and details, polishing up their defence for a court hearing in the morning. It was quiet, the only noise in the room was their breathing and the sound of the clicking of keyboards and scratching of pens on paper.

He looked up from his desk and caught the sight of them diligently working. Their hands flipping through and reordering the papers at the workstation in his office. Their meticulous actions were mesmerising as he lost himself in the thought of those hands deftly working the knot of his tie loose. How they could nimbly travel the fabric of his shirt detaching the buttons exposing his skin to the lights in the room…

“Mr Wing was there anything else? … Mr Wing?”

Their question had him flustering and he only hoped his face was not on fire in the same way as the rest of his body. Seriously why develop an imagination now?

“No that is all. I looked at your report and marked a few areas for your attention moving forward.” He kept his voice calm and level even though his mouth was turning dry.

Removing themself from the sofa his partner happily came forward to collect the file. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, they had done this countless times in the past but right now he was acutely aware of every sway from their body. The click of shoes on the floor felt like a hammer in his chest.

“Thank you. I’ll get them corrected now.” Elegant fingers wrapped around the binder for the files plucking it from his desk.

“No. It’s late you should go home.” He didn’t want to see them leave but he wanted even less for them to see him like this. He was struggling to keep himself in check and cursing his own mind for its torturous fantasies.

“Alright… You should go home too. There’s nothing else to be done now, right? Just showing up to court and winning the case.” They tilted their head and their hair slipped away from their neck on one side. A beautifully bare path under thin cotton fabric laid out before his eyes from their ear to their shoulder.

Turning to his computer to avoid the dangerous path his mind was travelling he nodded in agreement. “Yes, I’ll be going after I send some emails.”

Satisfied with this they gave a smile that felt like it had sucked all the air from his lungs. Holding the file close to their chest they issued one last farewell and left. Their voice lingered in his ears as a feeling of loneliness washed over him.

Sighing he realised how laboured his breathing was. The collar of his shirt felt tight causing him to remove his tie and undo the top buttons of the shirt to gain some freedom. He took a mouthful of his now cold coffee. When making it he did so focusing on producing a bitter blend, an idea he had so he could use it to refocus his mind and suppress those troublesome fantasies.

“That’s enough now. No more foolishness.” He muttered to himself as he pushed aside the vivid imaginings that threatened to overwhelm him.

A knock on the door made him jump.

“Yes?”

The head of his partner appeared through the gap as the door opened. A sheepish look on their face as they failed to make complete eye contact.

“Sorry, Artem. Erm… are we still on for watching those old movies this weekend?” Their question was adorable and the uncertainty in their voice only endeared them to him more.

“We are unless you have other plans. Don’t force yourself to attend if-”

“Oh! No, I was just worried you might be too busy and forgotten. I’ll bring some snacks with me this time so you don’t have to cook. Bye!”

The whirlwind that was his love swept through his office and left just as quickly. Their concern that he had lost interest or forgotten their date felt impossible but was so like them. He shook his head and laughed. He really had it bad. To compound the issue and make it worse the one he liked was oblivious to his affection.

He thought about the ingredients sitting in his kitchen at home and how his plans to make something special were once more dashed by his partner’s thoughtfulness.

“One step forward three steps back…” His eyes fell on the book that had become something of a talisman to him since he had been given it. All its insight and helpful steps to acquiring love and making his feelings clear were so easily mapped out in its pages but in reality, it was not so easy. "If only everything could follow the plot of a book." He picked up the self-help guide to love and flipped it open at his bookmark. "Then again... if it were that simple could I really claim they are my chance encounter?" 

He leaned back into his desk chair the leather of it creaking under him as he began to read the next section of the book. How to plan the perfect confession.

---

[dazaily]

todoroki bringing his s/o to an amusement part

my first bnha work... kinda nervous posting this cuz like bnha(?) idk,, but for my manz, i will pull through!! hope u enjoy ^^

description: you and todoroki have been dating for awhile now, but recently he realised he never initiates dates, and so he planned and invited u to an amusement park for a date. 

warnings: gender neutral! reader. fluff. clichéd. i wrote this at 4-5am.

* ·    　 ˚  + 　　　 ·    *  ˚ 

my manz is innocent, like lbr, he aint gonna know shiz abt dating..

sooo, the first few weeks into ur relationship(?) he was alr facing his first crisis.

he felt like nothing changed, despite having transitioned from a platonic to romantic relationship.

and so, being the sweet and clueless lil bean he is, he went to seek for advice from his one and only bestie bakugou, midoriya.

“hey, midoriya, what does one do in a relationship” why am i making him talk like someone from the shakespearean era tf

“oh, um todoroki?? are u asking for y/n? if so, i don't think im not the right person u should be asking,, i mean ive never even been in a rela--”

“well, u were my best choice” 

midoriya notices the absolute chaos they are surrounded by in the 1A dorm 

“ok i may be the best choice.” said in tiny.

so after a discussion that dragged for way longer than it had to be 2 days, todoroki settled on the idea of bringing u on a date to the amusement park.

cute idea right? yes. there's no twist, like i said this is a fluff. 

n e ways, he was an awkward lil bby asking u out, cuz he's not used to receiving or giving affection,,,, he's trying his best.

“um, y/n, are u free this sunday..?”

“sunday, hmm i think i alr have smtg planned..”

“oh, um, well then, its fine, its nothing important..”

if u weren't hit by a pang of guilt, idk what type of monster u are.

“nah, that was just jokes, so whats up?”

and that was how y'all ended up in universal studios japan. usj

endeavour’s bout to be big mad when he realises the missing money from his wallet.

“sHOUTOOOOO!!” >:[

n e ways..

so ur date started with u dragging shouto around the entire park, with the goal of riding every single ride 

ofc he was fine with it, he was happy as long as he got to spend time with u. a simp.

but since u guys went on a weekend, there were way more people than u guys originally expected, like wHOA,,, 

the park was basically filled with people from all over the world, even though it wasn't holiday season..

so ur dreams and hopes of riding eery single ride, may be impossible..

hAH, YOU THOUGHT, YOUR MANZ FATHER MAY BE THE WORST PERSON ON EARTH, BUT HES STILL TOP 2 HERO. 

ur manz got u the express pass.

the one time ur grateful for the existence of his father.

so yall spent the first 2-4 hours just riding every single ride u could possibly find. 

shouto’s probably the type that is willing to try anything, i don't think he’ll be scared of any rides in particular. 

in the contrary, i feel like there'll be rides that he's lowkey excited to ride on, since he never had the chance to enjoy these events and places as a child. cuz of his sh*tty father.

he would ofc try to hide his excitement, but after being by his side for awhile, uve learnt how to differentiate his different emotions, despite his general nonchalant self. 

him being excited, makes u happy, cuz its rare that u get to see these sides of him.

omg pls protect him at all costs,, he needs it,,, he's so precious,, shower him with all the love in the world.

so y'all be running all over the place, until hunger slaps u in the face like that isekai truck that ive been waiting for. 

and so its food time!

“hmm, since were in an amusement park, we should get some hot dogs, churros, oMG and cotton candy!!”

“..what? c-ch-churros?? what are those?”

“holy sh-- u don't kNOW WHAT CHURROS ARE!? we’re getting churros right now.”

“but, i want soba... the cold one”

u ended up getting both. cuz it isn't todoroki without cold soba.

and it was back to running around the entire park riding everything.

but instead of running yallz were walking hand in hand, as if u guys were an old couple taking a stroll in the local park

and instead of the entire park, y'all were just in the harry potter section..

don't judge, its cute. and the food did some numbers to ur stomachs, so u were avoiding some rides till u digest ur food. 

while walking around, the sun was setting creating a beautiful scenery. 

wanting this to be a lasting memory, u convinced todoroki to take a photo together. 

u wanted to take an aesthetic couple photo to show off to other people who were trying to steal ur hunk of a man. 

at first u had asked random passerby to help yalls take a photo,, but being the attention-starved lil bby he is, he felt awkward posing in front of random people. 

which led u guys to just set up the camera on a small ledge with a castle in the bg. 

it was then, todoroki had experience a flashback to the conversation that him and midoriya had. 

“hmm, wikihow says that every date has to end in a kiss, for it to be called successful..”

“is this website trustable??”

“it should be.. anyways just do it.”

coming back to reality, todoroki suddenly felt a sense of urgency, the date was coming to an end, and he hasn't kissed u yet,,,,

at that moment, as the timer of the phone camera was reaching 0, with u and ur wide smile posing for the camera

todoroki gently turned ur head to face his, and he had kissed u, for public display.

ur face immediately turned red, but u eventually returned the kiss, after getting over the shock. 

after separating, todoroki was silent, slightly scared and worried of ur reaction(?)

“why didn't u tell me u were going to kiss me~~ u should've told me so i can at least look good in the photo~~”

“..huh? well, um, i just had he sudden urge to do it?” kinda ooc

he was flustered, confused, embarrassed and giddy all at the same time

but the hugest wave of relief came over him, as he began to relax. 

“well we can just take another photo if u don't like it--”

“nO, i like this photo. but im always open for another kiss.” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

getting over ur prior embarrassment, u tried flirting with him, returning the bold action he had pulled off earlier. 

“well, i wouldn't reject an offer like that would i..”

surprising u by picking up on the offer u suggested, todoroki gave u another kiss, easily taking ur breathe away.

well, ig this just confirms that wikihow is reliable. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

i can't believe i ended a fic with a kiss,, this is the most cop out ending ive written but im way too tired to write properly rn,, 

˚  ˚ . ·   　 * 　 ⋆  * 　

a/n: hihi, so im kinda nervous posting this, cuz thus far i have only done haikyuu works so like??? i feel like i have an overall better understanding of haikyuu characters and their dynamics, but i wanted to write something for my precious icyhot <3 if this piece does well, ill try and write more about bnha characters. hope it was good!!

[colourful-void]

Everything I Know About Apollo Justice before I play Apollo Justice, Part 2.

Well now that I’ve played through investigations 1+2 and have gotten a few more spoilers, this needs revisions. Here’s the original post if you haven’t read it yet!

Disclaimer: lot of guesses could be wrong, please don’t correct me if they are, trying to avoid spoilers. this is just for fun and for me to laugh at when im done.

feel free to ask questions in the comments!

Apollo Justice: - 5′5, roughly the same height as me =) - 20 i think, maybe a bit younger? younger than phoenix was in the first game - sad (they’re all sad) - defense attorney (in training?) - don’t know a lot about him actually - is at least friends with phoenix, maybe being mentored by him, maybe he only knows phoenix cause he’s friends with trucy - trucy calls him polly i think which is adorable

Trucy Wright: - listen i know nothing about her but i already love her - her design is so cute - so freaking cute - she’s magicccc!!!!!!!!!!!!!! - i think she’s like 17 - related to phoenix in some way but i’m not sure how and it just gets more confusing the more i think about it she’s gotta be like a cousin or something

Athena Cykes: - i think i know less about athena now actually - she looks really cool though - i heard she might be a psychologist?? maybe not???? - i think she has a pet robot and if not she deserves one - still not sure if she’s a lawyer tho - could not tell you any of her relationships but i hope she has lots of friends =)

Simon Blackquill or Blackwell someone corrected me and I forgot I’m sorry - 80% sure he’s a prosocutor - this is the guy that probably has a sword

The girl with purple hair: - she seems cool - maybe she likes birds - i hope theres lots of her i like her braid

Gavin: - cool hair - has a guitar - may or may not have a brother - a bunch of people ship him with Apollo so thats a thing, maybe they know each other - probably a prosocutor

Phoenix: - he’s sad now - loses his badge, unclear if he gets it back - wright and co law offices gets renamed to wright anything agency so maybe he did that or maybe it was trucy - had to have talked to ema at some point to get that button from her unless they’re mass produced or something - is he playable? i do not know - someone in the crunchyroll comment section refered to him as hobo phoenix and i don’t know if thats standard or just something this one comment calls him but ill mention it anyway

Maya: I’m really concerned about Maya okay I’ve heard a lot about all the other characters but not about Maya so I’m worried she won’t be there or she got murdered or something and that would be really bad. I like Maya a lot she better be there. Also haven’t heard a lot about pearl...

Other Characters:

- So that gold hair person i talked about last time, that was sebastian. I don’t know if he’ll be in the other games (i hope so he just started getting character development) but yeah that was him. - im certain that clown girl commited murder - if ema doesn’t come back i will be sad - I doubt kay will be there but it would make me really happy if she was - franziska? pls come back

Other Info: - i thought the apollo justice games were in like,,, 2045 but it’s only 2025 i think. - i think edgeworth is in the 5th game - the meiji era game is a spin off, which at least makes the timeline more clear i was so ready to accept that time travel was just a thing - dual destinies is rated m for some reason so im preparing for trucy or apollo to just get like,, murdered or something i don’t know but i think it’ll be dark

and that’s all i’ve got for now!! planning to start playing on friday, see ya then!

[acircusfullofdemons]

ARCADIA: HIDDEN IN CODE [HUMAN AU]

This is a Human!AU I've made because most of not all my paras are some sort of supernatural creature — don't be fooled, even if they "look" human, they still have some magical ability. So for this AU, they're just like humans irl.

Also, after some thinking, I’ve decided that they’re all going to be around college-age (I think Anthony & Jordan are a tad younger – juniors or seniors idk) seeing as how I myself am soon entering college...hooray...

ANTHONY MORNINGSTAR

His family is very, very rich. You'd think this would be great, but most only like him for his money, so he doesn't have a lot of "real" friends.

He meets Jordan first & then by extension Elliott.

Honestly? His parents probably force him to become a business major in order to take over the ‘family business’. Anthony hates it but doesn’t really know what else he wants to do yet. I think eventually he just drops out & moves in with Jordan for a bit tbh.

Y'know he probably came out as trans to his family after he got a name change / started T...not sure how well they'd take it, though.

CALYPSO RAYMOND

He's a Theater Kid. Everyone at the circus is in his theater class. He’s majoring in Musical Theater!

Him & Reverie (who's called Cecilia in this au) ACTUALLY spend time together. Ikr, spending time with your twin sister? What a concept. He used to live with her & their parents before moving in with Rowan & Jane.

He has a Youtube Channel where he sings covers & original songs. He also makes waayyy to many tiktoks.

Does gymnastics w/Cecilia on the side.

ELLIOTT HART

She works part-time at StarLight Museum, which is also owned by her mother, Ruth.

Her & Jordan actually grow up together….the chaos Ruth & Gregory had to go through, everyone pray for them.

Her appearance changes a bit: she has blonde hair & blueish-gray eyes instead of brown hair & green eyes. Though….there's always the possibility of her dying it brown one day…

Is renting an apartment with Toby, they’re roommates (omg they were roommates…)

JANE BELLEROSE

You know what? She's still a teen mom & has Jace. Her parents end up kicking her out so she goes to live with Rowan instead (their childhood friends + Seth [aka rowans dad] was ok with it before they moved out).

Going to college to do something in childcare, possibly be a social worker.

Oh there's definitely gonna be beef between her & Sam (= Jace's dad). I don't think it'll last for long tho bc (1) I don't really wanna think about Sam, (2) Jane is fine being a single mother, (3) Sam doesn't really care all that much about having a son tbh. Sure, he may have tried to get custody, but only bc of the money child support would give him.

She does kickboxing & martial arts! It's her favorite pastime & helps her blow off steam.

JORDAN HART

Probably one of the few times Cyber goes by their legal name (= Jordan).

Still has a prosthetic arm, probably got it in an unfortunate car accident.

STEM Major...you already KNOW they’re going into robotics. Or a mechanic...something that let's them work with machines, that's for sure.

Other than that they probably just spend way too much time on the internet ngl.

ROWAN DELLACROY

His dads the chief of police...which isn't all that fun when you live in a small town & everyone avoids you bc they think you're gonna rat them out.

He babysits Blair, Kelly is his foster / adoptive sister (he also watches Jace for Jane sometimes).

Him & Jane are childhood friends, which is how they know each other. One day he just randomly met Calypso — I'm honestly not sure how — and he's never known peace since.

Working on a Masters Degree in Public Health to become an epidemiologist (someone who studies diseases….sir pls help us with covid).

TOBY REYNOLDS

Of course he’s getting a history major. I think he wants to be a history teacher??

Also works are StarLight Museum...but in a totally different section then Elliott goddamn it.

In terms of family, he has a dad & 2 older brothers.

He builds robots with Jordan in his spare time! He's also part of an online photography group.