#can't wait to cry because I try to do a solo run

[visterical]

fugo who I was not trying to draw but do love. I was trying to draw some risotto headcanons (or general headcanons that unfortunately I do not think the fandom would enjoy)

[stevesbipanic]

@steddieangstyaugust Day 6: "Who did this?"

Cw: homophobic language used (f word, not used by main characters)

Steve was late.

He was never late which is why Eddie had spent the last twenty minutes pacing around the trailer. Since Spring Break and Eddie's release from the hospital Saturdays had been movie night for the two older boys. A movie night that became date night a couple months ago when Steve smiled so softly at him and Eddie couldn't help but risk it all and kiss him. Steve never was late, but especially not on Saturdays.

Eddie knew Steve had a closing shift, solo because Robin had finally gotten the courage to ask out Vickie. Sometimes closing took longer alone but Steve always would call to let Eddie know. Eddie had already tried ringing the store multiple times but got nothing but voicemail.

Now, twenty minutes later, he couldn't wait any longer. He grabbed his keys and tried to keep his panic under control as he drove to the store, hoping that maybe he'd pass Steve on the way and it would all be a misunderstanding.

His relief at seeing Steve's car parked outside Family Video was short lived. The lights in the store were off, doors shut, no Steve. He parked quickly, jumping out, that's when he saw the real state of Steve's car. The tyres were slashed, headlights and a couple windows smashed and as he rounded the side looking for Steve he saw in bright red spray paint "faggot".

"Shit," Eddie whispered, "Steve!?" he called out desperately. Against all odds he heard a whimper from behind the store. He quickly ran around, his eyes catching on a crumpled figure curled up on the ground. "Steve? Baby, sweetheart, are you ok? Who did this? What hurts, love?" Eddie rambles crouching down towards him, brushing his fingers gently on his face which thankfully looks unharmed, Steve couldn't get another concussion.

"Ankle," Steve whimpers out, Eddie sees that it's red and swollen, he hopes it's just a sprain since it looks ok otherwise. "Stevie, what happened baby?"

"Can we go home first please?" Home had been the trailer for awhile now, Steve rarely went back to Loch Nora these days. "Of course, sweetheart, where are your keys, Wayne and I will come deal with your car later."

Steve whimpered again, "They're on the roof, I fell trying to get them back." Eddie sighed, running a comforting hand down Steve's side, "That's ok, sunshine, we'll deal with that tomorrow too, c'mon I've got you just lean on me." Eddie looped an arm under Steve helping him limp back to the van, Steve pointedly didn't look at his car. The drive home was quiet but thankfully not tense, more tired.

Eddie set Steve up on the couch, a pack of frozen peas on his ankle, he'd get Wayne to look at it when he got home later. He gingerly sits beside him, trying not to jostle Steve's foot too much. Steve immediately leans against his side, the weight of the night seeping out of him.

"I'm sorry."

Steve looked up quickly, "Why are you sorry?"

"You wouldn't have gotten hurt, whichever assholes that did that wouldn't have done it to you if it wasn't for me, Steve."

Steve sighed, "Eds, look at me." Eddie lifted his eyes to meet Steve's hazel ones wondering how much longer he'd get the privilege of being close enough to see the flecks of green in them. "I faced monsters worse than some homophobic assholes to get the honour of loving you, Eddie."

Eddie's breath caught in his throat at Steve's words but he continued, "I don't care what they call or do to me as long as you're always there to come get me, that I always get to come home to you, that's all that matters to me, not the car, not words, just you and me, ok?"

"Ok," Eddie whispered, he thinks he'd start crying if he tried to respond anymore. Steve nodded, satisfied, "Good, I love you, Eds, now can we please watch a movie. We were supposed to finish the trilogy tonight and if I see Dustin on Monday and can't answer his questions he'll pick you as his favourite and that won't do."

Eddie giggled at that, even when faced with danger and hate, Steve could make him smile, "Of course, sunshine." As the text began to scroll on the screen he wrapped an arm around Steve's shoulders, "Love you too, baby, thank you for giving me the honour." Just him and Steve, against the world, upside down or otherwise.

[lookninjas]

So I usually try to do music from a bunch of different countries on these playlists, but now that the Latvian thing has become an acknowledged running joke, it's time to take it to the next level. Also, while I dunk on the algorithm as much as any tumblr user... it really has taken my love of Citi Zēni and turned into a plethora of awesome artists that I've had an amazing time listening to. So I'm gonna just give Latvia some love here.

The game is simple: Pick a song from one of my bad descriptions. You do not have to recognize the song to pick it. Just go with the description that suits your mood. Feel the vibes. Vote, reblog so other people can vote, and at the end of a week I will make a playlist out of the results, from the song with the least votes to the song with the most votes.

If you are burningly curious about a song and don't want to wait a week, shoot me an ask and I will tell you what the song is. And if you want to hear the playlist (I promise you do), leave a comment asking to be tagged, or ask to be tagged when you reblog, and I will tag you.

Except I'm tagging @not-kaiva now, because you asked for recs that were similar to Bermudu Divstūris on the country poll, and I didn't really get back around to answering, but there will probably be something on this playlist you like, so stay tuned.

Okay, that's it. Please vote, please reblog, and please listen to something new this week. It's fun.

[dameronology]

how about what would happen if the star wars boys made you cry 👀

ok i kinda did this in the scenario that you're arguing and they make you cry

characters: din, poe, finn, han, luke & obi-wan

din djarin

he is HORRIFIED the minute tears spring from your eyes

maybe you're fighting, maybe he got stressed and said something in the heat of moment, whatever it is, he's immediately forgotten about what he was mad about and he's by your side, floods of apologies coming from his mouth and gloved hands taking yours

he just kinda pulls you into his chest and holds you for a moment and my GOD he wants the world to swallow him up because he loves you more than anything in the world and he normally hates whoever makes you cry but right now it's him

truth is, you know din and you know that he would never do anything to intentionally hurt you so as far as apologies go, it's one you accept pretty quickly

he's gonna apologise for like a week after that

even if it becomes annoying

poe dameron

poe just sort of freezes and has this "oh fuck" look on his face

"oh god, don't cry. please don't cry. did i make you cry? oh my god. i made you cry."

and then he probably starts crying too

because he always wants to cry when you cry but the fact that he's the one responsible for it? woo boy

he swallows it down though and doesn't let you see because he doesn't want to seem like he's taking away from what he's done

his immediate reaction is to want to hug you, but he waits for a moment to see if you'll let him because he doesn't know if you're gonna swing at him tbh

if you let him, he holds you fucking tight. he doesn't apologise then and there, though, not until things have calmed down - normally a few moments later - that he says sorry and you know it's from the bottom of his heart

he goes out his way over the next few days to make it up to you; flowers, dinner, a romantic trip to a distant planet, but above all, he makes an active effort to never let it happen again

and that's what matters most

finn

honestly finn looks like a kicked puppy

because he tries so hard to never argue with you or get mad EXACTLY FOR THIS REASON and he has failed in his attempts and oh lord he wants to die

he doesn't jump immediately to apologising, mostly because he wants you to say what you need to say and he doesn't want to talk over you

and he listens!! he wants to know what he did and what he said so that it never happens again

then he apologises, and it's always straight to the point but still eloquent and meaningful

finn isn't gonna be the kinda guy who apologises for days (oh, din) or goes out his way to shower you in sorry gifts (ah, poe) because mostly he just wants to move on from it and get back to a good place with you but it's like...not in a way that he forgets about it??

it's more of a thing that he hates things being off with you. like it literally kills him inside. so he encourages you to both move forward and get back to the good stuff.

but he also makes it clear that he has learnt from it

han solo

han literally doesn't know what to do. he can barely handle people crying at the best of times but when a) it's you and b) you're crying because of him?

his immediate reaction is to run, because it's han and he always wants to peg it away from every single issue but his chest hurts at the idea and it hurts even more when he knows he's the bastard that made you cry

he just goes silent and is kinda 🧍‍♂️for a second because his brain is computing but then he realises that he does know what to do when you cry and that's attack the thing that upset you

then he realises that he can't do that and goes "well i can't fucking blast myself, so i don't really know what to do right now" and it's stupid and dumb and oh my god han read the fucking room but at least it breaks the ice a little bit and you smile

because, despite everything and despite han being...well, han, you know he's trying his best and the fact he's even still in front of you is actually something of a miracle

that's your cue to rip into him, by the way, because even if you're crying it is canon that the only way to get han solo to listen to you is to tear him a new one (or three) so he will stand there and take the bollocking

after that, he apologises. han isn't good with words so it's a little bit spacey and awkward but the intent is there

but he also makes it abundantly clear that he never means to hurt you and you know, from the bottom of his heart, that he means it

luke skywalker

luke literally stops in his tracks and he's holding you immediately and going "i didn't mean that, i really didn't mean that, please don't hate me"

literally his entire facade his gone - the stubbornness, whatever he's arguing about - just disappears and he realises immediately that none of it is worth making you cry

so the man is literally holding you before your tears even start and he's already apologising over and over

he does want to listen to you though and hear what you have to say, so he's all ears

tbh, it's hard to stay angry at luke for long because you know he's completely pure intentioned and good hearted but you can absolutely opt to give him the silent treatment or take space for as long as you need and he will let you do it

after that, he buys you flowers and will make it up to you in every way he knows how

obi-wan kenobi

out of everyone on the list, obi-wan is the one who is the most shooketh to his core when he realises that he's made you cry

because he's so chivalrous and loving and might as well live to serve you so the idea that he's hurt you is quite possibly his greatest fear come true

his immediate reaction is to give you space. he'll apologise first and let you know that he's ready to talk whenever you are, simply because he doesn't want to overstep or push you to make up until you're ready

but as soon as you are, he's all ears and listening to everything you have to say

again - and i feel like i'm saying this for every character here lol - you know that he'd never hurt you intentionally and although that's the main, the proof is in the pudding when he actively listens to you and makes an effort to avoid it happening again

[shroomyart404]

I’ve been thinking about the thunder legion, more specifically how they came to Fairy Tail. Because out of all the characters we see stuff about, we don’t see anything about them or their initial connection to Laxus.

So I got to brewing

Evergreen was the first to meet Laxus, she was maybe 12 when Laxus passed through with one of the adults in Fairy Tail. They were on their way to the train station to get back to the guild and stopped for food. She overhears Laxus say they’re headed to fairy tail and she gets so excited by the fact theirs a fairy guild she interrupts and asks Laxus numerous questions, saying she’s gonna join. So when she shows up 2 years later, dropped off by her older brother, Laxus isn’t too surprised. He is a bit caught off guard though when she only seems to hang around him though - he’s the only person she knows and joining a guild isn’t like what she’d thought.

It was just her and her brother, and he thought Fairy Tail would be a good place for her to start making friends and earn money she wouldn't get back home.

Between meeting Evergreen and Evergreen joining is when Bickslow meets Laxus and joins Fairy Tail.

Laxus had finished up a solo mission, and needed a place to stay afterwards as it was getting to night. And he was hungry. He passed through a really run-down town, grumbling about how he wasn't gonna find much out here until an old man calls him over. it's clear Laxus isn't around here, and after confirming that Laxus is a wizard asks him to protect the house for a few days in exchange for food and shelter.

Laxus agrees and stays out on guard the first night, watching as some kids his age make their way through town going to houses and taking food, led by a lanky boy with a trail of 5 dolls following him. One of the kids tries to approach the house Laxus is guarding but is quickly scared off. The next night, similar happens, but this time the lanky kid, Bickslow who is clearly the ringleader of this group, approaches him.

"You're messing with the wrong place. I suggest you leave before things get messy." Bickslow says, and Laxus refuses. So, Bicks challenges Laxus to a fight. And to no surprise Laxus wins, and before he helps Bicks up he asks what's even happening around here.

Bickslow tells him about how the city was plagued by attacks from a dark guild that's now been disbanded. The town didn't have the money or the resources to rebuild, Bickslows friends were caught in the crossfire of the dark guild's anarchy - these friends' souls are the ones in the 5 toys, later to be his totems. Laxus knows he can't help, but he tells Bickslow that money's needed he can join Laxus on higher-earning quests. Help keep other towns from ending up like this. This convinces Bicks, and the future of the town gets better because Makarov talks with his connections and the town gets rebuilt.

Finally, Freed. It's maybe a year after Evergreen joined. Freed has been travelling around Fiore trying to find someone who could take away his "curse" (the forbidden magic). He often goes to the cathedrals and such, but most either direct him on to the next or to wizarding guilds - which Freed doesn't want to go near fearing rejection. He comes to Magnolia, and after Kardia Cathedral also say there's nothing they can do, he's sat on the steps knees pulled up to his chest.

"You crying?" Evergreen approaches him, having nothing better to do while she waits for Bickslow and Laxus to be done with whatever they are doing.

"No." Freed doesn't look at her, which Ever finds rude and gives a huff.

"Well then stop looking like you are."

"My sadness is none of your business."

"So you are sad?"

the conversation carries on like this back and forth, Freed utterly confused how this girl keeps asking questions and invading his business. Eventually, Laxus and Bickslow come over to ask Evergreen who she's talking to.

"Oh, I dunno. I didn't ask his name."

"Freed. My name is Freed Justine."

"It's got to be a bit cold sat on those steps," Bickslow says

"Does it matter? I've got nowhere further to go on my search."

"Then you can get out of the cold, don't go being stupid." Laxus holds out his hand to help Freed up, and he takes it. They take him along to the guild so they're out of the cold and have some food. They ask why he's in Magnolia, and Freed reluctantly tells them about his fruitless search to have his magic taken away.

"Well, you've come to the right place," Laxus says, and Freed has a look of hope.

"Really? You mean there's someone here who can take this curse away?"

"Nope. but there are people a bit like you here." Laxus gestures to Bickslow and Evergreen. "I seem to keep collecting randos with weird eyes, what's another one."

"Hey!" Evergreen huffs and gives Laxus a shake "But he's right. You'd fit right in, Freed."

And thus, the Thunder Legion was formed.

[artyandink]

Could I request a lockwood x fem reader where she gets really hurt during a solo mission and gets back home late where lockwood I waiting to give her a lecture but after realising, he helps her and they both end up kissing.

CAN'T STAY MAD AT YOU

I winced, shakily pressing my hand to my stomach, drawing it away and spotting lots of blood coating it. I'd barely escaped that Type 2 who was angry after a murder, and I'd only realised when I found a note that helped me piece two and two together.

Times like this I wished I brought someone along with me.

Finding purchase on the bedframe, I pulled myself up all at once to avoid too much pain, almost collapsing again due to the rippling lightning strikes flashing through my body.

I lumbered my way to a spare first aid kit, messily wrapping a bandage around my midsection, wondering how I was ever going to make it home.

"Need a hand, Leigh?" My best friend Artemis was at the door in her usual office clothes, gaping when she saw my state. "Bloody hell- I need to get you to Portland Row. For God's sake, were you doing a solo mission?" Helping me up, I used her as support as we hobbled towards her Rolls.

"I didn't want to trouble the others. We were all exhausted after wraith hunting and the pay was good-"

"Enough to risk your life?" She snapped, helping me into the car and telling her driver, Marco, to take us to Portland Row. "I admire your tenacity, Leighton, but this isn't the time to use it."

"I was misinformed."

"Still!" She retorted. "You're lucky I arrived on the scene in time. I happened to be in the area and the neighbours were yabbering on about a girl who'd caused a loud crash doing a ghost removal. I checked in and look what I found. I can't protect you from those three in that house, so you're on your own from the moment you walk through that door." She got me out of the car and up the front steps, and I leaned heavily against the rails on either side as I rung the doorbell, also noticing her drive off. It unlocked, so I turned the handle and hobbled in as subtly as I could, trying to ignore the stabbing pain that was riddling my thoughts. But they cleared when I saw who was waiting for me.

I'm done.

"Where have you been?!" Anthony Lockwood snapped. "Bed empty, no note, gear gone! You could've died, you could've- oh bloody hell!" I nearly collapsed, but he ran forward and caught me in time, perfectly catching my muffled cry. He saw the blood leaking through, slowly peeling off my shirt to witness the deep cut soaking the bandage that I'd used as a stand in.

"I... um... got hurt."

"Clearly, Leigh!"

"Artemis managed to find me, though. She brought me back here."

"She was God's gift, because you're losing blood. I may have to call DEPRAC." He pulled out his first aid kit, the rubbing alcohol and cloth ready. "This will hurt."

As soon as the stinging liquid touched my skin, I let out a painful groan, clenching my fists so hard I think I might've left permanent marks on my palms. It felt like fire, poison and pain but it felt like it was the universal treatment to anything. I just wanted it over and done with.

"What were you thinking- going on a solo mission this dangerous; you should know better! You scared the bloody life out of me!"

"I was also scared! Don't you think that in this life or death situation I was scared for my life?!" We stopped arguing, Lockwood's Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"I just... I don't want to lose you too." Sighing, I remembered the trauma he'd gone through by losing his parents as a child. I cupped his cheek, softly running my thumb across the smooth skin of his cheek, the dark circles gracing them even more pronounced in the dim lighting.

"You'll never lose me. I'm Leighton bloody Prescott. No way I'm leaving this world unless I'm bringing down a bad guy with me."

"I can't stay mad at you, Leigh." He grinned that gigawatt grin again, melting my heart and soul.

"Exactly. You love me."

"Too much so, I'm afraid." I blinked in surprise. Was this the love confession I'd been dreaming of?

"W-What?"

"I know this isn't a good time, but I love you, Leigh. I always have."

"This is the most perfect time, because I love you too, Anthony." I leaned in, kissing him softly and feeling the pain go away a little, until he deepened the kiss.

"Ow, gigantic cut "

"Oh, right, sorry."

[himebushou]

You've heard of the Aozora Daycare Moms' Groupchat — now get ready for...

The Organisation's Gossiping Mobsters

Gossip

Mobster 1: I heard the Boss' kid came home last month.

Mobster 2: Oh, for real?  He's been gone a while, huh?

Mobster 1: Well, this wasn't for keeps — it was a flying visit.  Just stopped by to say hi on his birthday, or something.

Mobster 3: Damn, that makes me look bad.  Can't remember the last time I saw my folks on my birthday...

Mobster 1: But the Boss ain't too happy.  Apparently, he said that playtime's over and the kid had better come home and continue the Suwa legacy, but the kid's resisting.

Mobster 3: Sheesh.

Mobster 2: Whoa. Sounds like money really can't buy you happiness. Even these rich families have issues.

Mobster 4: Yeah... but I reckon the kid has good reasons for staying put.

Mobster 1: Hey?  What's that?

Mobster 4: He's got a little one already.

Mobster 2: What???

Mobster 3: I'm sorry. REI does???

Mobster 1: Are you sure?!?

Mobster 4: Hell yeah!  I'm part of the intel squad.  Took the photos myself.

Mobster 2: So that should be the problem sorted, right? And he could just bring her home?

Mobster 4: Cutest little thing you can imagine.  She reminds me of my own daughter, way back when.  Right down to the hairclip.

Mobster 1: Ahhhh.  A girl?

Mobster 2: The boss doesn't seem too keen on women.

Mobster 3: Uh huh.  Kaji got KO'd because he tried to run off with some lass.  She got KO'd and all.

Mobster 2: WAIT.  THAT WAS THE REASON?

Mobster 3: Bro you really don't know anything, do you?

Mobster 2: Kaji was LEGENDARY. I could never get a scratch on him!

Mobster 1: I thought the Boss' kid was living with that Kurusu guy.

Mobster 4: He is.  He lives with Kurusu AND the teeny girlie.

Mobster 1: Oh.

Mobster 2: Must be easier than trying to raise a kid solo... and I heard that Kurusu is really good with tech.  Maybe he could sort out my broadband...

Mobster 4: You're still having problems with that?

Mobster 3: Hold up.  Are the rest of us ALLOWED to have kids?

Mobster 4: Well, I've got one.  As long as your kid ends up working for the Organisation, it's okay.  Otherwise, it's a hard pass.

Mobster 1: And what exactly does your kid do?

Mobster 4: She's only 10, dummy.  But, since you asked: she wants to be a botanist.

Mobster 3: WHAT are we meant to do with a botanist??

Mobster 2: There are plants in the mansion, you know.

Mobster 3: Enough for a full-time botanist?

Mobster 4: I said she wants to be a botanist — not that she'll actually become a botanist.  I'm hoping that she'll change her mind and decide to be a doctor.

Mobster 2: Oh yeah.  We can definitely do with more of those. Remember when RT had to get his leg amputated but our only option was to do it at home? What a mess.

Mobster 1: Didn't hear you complaining at the time. You 'inherited' his car.

Mobster 2: So what? My one got torched in Kanazawa. You have to learn to stop crying about these things.

Mobster 3: Why're you getting intel on a baby, anyway?

Mobster 4: She's in daycare already — hardly a baby. Besides. When do you think I started questioning orders?

Mobster 3: Point taken.

Mobster 1: Well, good luck to the Boss' kid, the kid's kid and Kurusu, I say. The rest of the world ain't as nice as us.

[cutest-bunny-writings]

Pull On My Heart Strings

Genre: angst, fluff, ✨ cliche romance(ish) ✨

Rating: 13+

Warning: social anxiety, self-doubt, getting disowned, much romantic cliches about falling in laps, crying, pepper spray is mentioned, a disappointing phone call,

Note: I don't remember writing a lot of this because I was loaded on meds for a severe lung infection.😅

Summary: You've been waiting to see this show for so long. To see award winning harpist Min Yoongi perform live, in a front row seat! What could possibly go wrong?

Word Count: 2k+ (I think?)

Pairing: harpist!Yoongi X (f.)reader

You dance around in your room as you get ready for tonight, humming the melody of your favorite song by your favorite musician. Award-winning harpist Min Yoongi. And tonight's the night you finally get to see a live solo concert of him. With front row seating!

You squeal to yourself just thinking about it, having to take makeup brush away from your eye when a delighted shiver follows.

Your best friend, Beau, is coming with you since you don't do to great by yourself in crowded areas. Let alone such a crowded place like La Plaza de Amor, a typically busy place that's bound to be busier tonight than ever.

Your phone rings, making your vanity shake with vigor on its uneven legs. It's a call from Beau and you're pretty sure you know what this is about but it's not their fault.

"Hello, Beau?" You question while trying to maneuver your heels onto your feet without dropping your phone, a skill you unfortunately didn't inherit from your mother.

"Hi, Y/N. I'm sorry but I can't go with you tonight. I'm on baby duty because Casey got called in to do emergency surgery. I think you'll be okay by yourself, but remember to take your pepper spray!" They sound so cheery but you know they're exhausted.

"I will!" You smile despite the sadness that sits in your heart. You knew that Beau was also looking forward to this as a break from parenting. And you know Casey's a surgeon but sticking your partner with no alone time and refusing to pay for a babysitter is ridiculous, borderline insane.

You stumble through your house as you try to get used to your fancy shoes, typically used to flats and athletic shoes. You do accidentally bump your hip into the kitchen counter, being more concerned about potentially having ripped your dress than with the expected deep purple bruise that is sure to develop within the next few hours.

Upon arriving at the Plaza, you suddenly felt bother over-dressed and under-dressed. Some of the attendants are dresses to let you know that they have the money to make this look like everyone else shops at crappy thrift stores. Others are dressed in modest fashions that hide "scandalous" parts of the body, taking care to not draw attention away from the lavish architecture and color of the Plaza, dressing in three colors or less.

You're starting to think that you look like a peasant compared to these people. Your dress is thrifted. Ankle length with long sleeves that end at the wrist and a cowl neckline. It's a soft midnight black silk and your shoes (also thrifted) are pure black leather with a three inch heel.

The excited energy begins to fill you once again as you start to listen to the other excited harp enthusiasts discuss, wondering what tonight's playlist shall be. Perhaps original songs or covers of songs? You bet he's going to play originals, those seem to be his favorite to perform. You love seeing him get lost in his own melodic creations.

You know the majority of Yoongi's career history as a harpist. He originally started with an orchestra but quickly rose to fame by performing solos with concerts that got his name in the headlines of every muscial journal that was still up and running.

Everyone could tell from the very start that Yoongi was meant to do great things in his musical career, but the same faith didn't exist in other aspects of his life.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you could please find your seats within the next thirty minutes while we prepare for the concert, that would be wonderful." A voice speaks through the cleverly hidden speakers in the Plaza.

You find your seat in the front, at the perfect angle to see that beauty that is Yoongi's face. And now he has shoulder-length hair to make him look even prettier during his majestic performances.

God, you really just want to play with his hair and hands.

Okay, stop. You're here to appreciate his musical talents, not thirst over his physical features. Well...maybe both. But mostly here for the music.

You excitedly settle into your seat once you find it, ironically surrounded by very beautiful men and women. You're starting to feel like a peasant again.

"You're staring." The guy next to you speaks.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" You didn't even realize that you were staring at him. He looks like one of the men from the pictures of Yoongi and his friends.

"It's okay. I know I'm world wide handsome."

Yup, that's the only one older than Yoongi. His hyung, Kim Seokjin also known as World Wide Handsome.

So that must mean they were given front row seats by Yoongi, which you completely expected because they're his close friends.

You didn't expect a crowd of refined rich people to go nuts over a man just walking on stage. But you can see why.

Yoongi in a cloud gray three-piece of suit with a flower crown made up of sprigs of baby's breath. He's not wearing the blazer like a blazer either, it's draped over his shoulders and head in place by a sweater guard.

"Hello, and thank you for coming to my concert." He bows to the audience before going go sit on his bench behind his harp.

The fact that this man has full confidence in himself and his musical capabilities to immediately close his eyes.

The first strike of the strings gives away exactly what the song is, one that makes your eyes water with heartache for something, but you don't know what that something is.

You're kind of embarrassed when the song is over and you come to the realization that you've been crying, but only after the man next to you offers a tissue.

"Thank you." You carefully accept the tissue, taking care to not touch the man's hand.

"You're welcome."

The second song begins and Yoongi's eyes are still closed.

It's almost unbelievable when the concert comes to an end. The warm glow of the lights fade out and you hear the sounds of dress shoes walking across the stage.

When the lights come back on, Yoongi is gone and so are his friends.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you are interested, there will be a meet and greet in a few minutes."

As much as you love that idea, you really need to go to the bathroom and you don't know where the bathroom is so this might take a little bit.

Hallway after hallway and they're all starting to blur together.

Voices draw you towards what you think is the hallway with the bathrooms, which would be correct!

You finally get a chance to relieve yourself and thank God these toilets have that new quiet flush feature.

While you're washing your hands, you hear a conversation through the wall and some very distinct crying noises. Being the naturally nosy person you are, you feel the need to investigate, but you also want to console whoever is sobbing like that.

You're very surprised when it leads you to Yoongi's dressing room.

You have to carefully consider your next move. To know or to not knock. You decide on knocking.

The room goes quiet on the inside before someone opens the door. It's the man from earlier.

"Oh, it's you."

"Uhm, I'm sorry but I heard somebody's crying and got concerned along with curious. I just wanted to make sure that everyone was okay." You wrong your hands together and look at the floor.

He closes the door so you start to walk away, only getting about five feet before the door opens again and you're told to come in.

You carefully take off your shoes when you come into the room and place them next to the others, the men's dress shoes. This makes you significantly shorter and suddenly you feel more intimidated than before.

You make your way to the only open spot there is in the room, the vanity bench. It's surprisingly soft and cushiony.

Yoongi watches your every move through red and puffy eyes.

You make eye contact and he sniffles which breaks the silence.

"Do you want us to leave you two alone?" The tallest one asks.

"Yeah, I think it'll be fine." Yoongi wipes his eyes with his shirt sleeve and sniffles again.

The other six men exit, leaving you alone with your musical idol.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I know." He runs his hands through his hair when he leans forward. "I also know that you cried during the performance." He smiles to himself.

You blush and look down at the floor again.

"Nothing to be ashamed of. That means you actually care about the music. And Seokjin told me what happened." He leans back and pushes his hair back, relaxing and letting his eyes shut. "You're welcome to come sit on the couch if that bench is too uncomfortable." He pops an eye open to look at your face redden again.

You hesitantly rise from the bench and try to walk as carefully as possible over to the couch, unfortunately tripping on a loose water bottle.

You're caught by Yoongi's hands which feel much larger on your waist than you initially thought they would be.

The fall and the catch land you in Yoongi's lap and you panic.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry!" You try to escape but his hands hold you firmly in his lap.

Your face burns and you stare at the buttons on Yoongi's shirt instead of hands on his shoulders, making sure your entire weight isn't on him.

"You can let go. I'm probably too heavy anyway."

"But what if I don't want to let go? This is quite nice."

Yoongi didn't think you could get anymore red than you already were but you looked redder than a tomato and that caused a laugh to escape him.

"Do you still want to know why I was crying?" He pushes a strand of hair out of your face so you'll look at him.

"Yes, but you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"I'll tell you because I want to. You don't seem like a sasaeng."

You can feel his hand moving on your back and you try your hardest not to budge.

"I got a phone call from my parents."

Everyone knows that Yoongi's relationship with his parents has been rocky since his teens when he first expressed no interest in becoming a doctor, surgeon, lawyer or politician.

"They've officially disowned me. And even thofuut I'm a grown man, that still hurts." He eyes start to water again and his voice cracks. "My name is being removed from all inheritances and assets."

You shift in your spot on Yoongi's lap and reach for his face. Carefully brushing the tears away. "It'll be okay. Do you have somewhere to live?"

"Yeah, I found a place to keep a low profile and avoid the paparazzi for the time being." His hands come up to hold your cheeks and a soft smile graces his lips. "Thanks for caring."

"I don't think I have much else to care about." You laugh.

"Oh, pretty girl has jokes, I see!"

You blush again and lightly smack Yoongi's chest.

"You know what, here." He reaches for a piece of paper of the side table and scribbles an address. "Come visit me when you can. I'll be home most of the time."

You take the piece of paper and stash it in your purse. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Sorry to tell you this right when we're relaxing, but the meet and greet is in like three minutes."

"Damn." You sadly laugh. "I guess I'll see you next time I'm free."

"I hope so."

You climb off Yoongi's lap and he ushers you out the door after checking that that coast is clear.

"Bye."

"Bye-bye."

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

I hope you enjoyed and I love you, my fluffies!🥰

[crystalsnow95z]

Just a quick write because I'm feeling really low in life right now. I'm sorry if it's not any good but I want an outlet for my emotions. Trigger warning: depression.

"Taehyung-ah? It's dinner time." Jimin calls outside the bedroom door, but gets no reply. The boys decided to rent a place so they could have their last night as seven together. Taehyung was feeling tired from his long flight from Mexico and went to lay down.

*is he fall asleep?* Jimin opens the door to check. Taehyung was underneath the blanket curled up. He was about to leave when he hears a shaky breath come from his friend.

"TaeTae are you crying?" Jimin sits on the bed, pulling the blanket away from Taehyung's face. He had his face buried in the pillow, but Jimin still heard the muffled sob.

Jimin pulls the pillow away and pulls Taehyung to him. "Tae, why are you crying?'

Taehyung doesn't answer, he just buries his face into Jimin's chest. Jimin could feel the younger vocalist trembling, his heart pounding hard in his chest.

"Taehyung, you need to breathe.." Jimin tells him softly when he hears him hyperventilating. "I'm here with you now, and whatever is wrong, we can figure it out together. Please don't cry.. You're going to make me cry too." Jimin says, but it was already too late. A tear rolls down his cheek.

Taehyung tries to take some deep breaths to calm himself, but they don't work. They come out as coughs. Jimin strokes his back, pressing his head against Taes.

J-hope walks into the room to see what's taking so long and quickly rushes to the bed.

"Taehyung is crying? Why? Why?" He says loud enough for the others to hear and it only takes a few moments for all seven boys to be in the room.

"I don't know. He's crying too much to tell me." Jimin replies to J-hope.

Jungkook sits on the bed, petting Taehyungs head. "Don't cry hyung.."

"Let him cry. We can talk after he lets it all out." Namjoon tells them. "Just know that we all love you Tae."

Taehyung nods, sitting up from Jimin's chest to wipe his face. Jimin helps him try to dry his eyes. Taehyung takes a deep breath finally finding his voice, it coming out small and shaky. "I'm sorry.."

Jungkook goes on the bed."V-hyung.. you dont have to be sorry..what's making you cry?"

"It's..It's just been a lot of things building up.." Taehyung is hardly understood from his voice shaking so much.

"We can figure it out together whatever it is, okay?" J-hope tells him, hugging him to his chest.

"Seojin-hyung is leaving tomorrow, and it won't be long until the others leave too.. we've been together for so long..I can't imagine not being able to call you whenever I like..just wondering if you guys will be okay..' Taehyung is hardly understood through the tears that started running full force down his cheeks.

"Voo, don't worry I'll be okay, I'll call and message as much as I can, and I'll be as careful as I can be." Seojin tells him, offering his arms out to hug him. Taehyung accepts, holding him close.

The sight of Taehyung crying brought Jungkook to tears as well, and he had similar worries.

"I'll do my best to come back as quick as possible. Please don't cry over me. The time will fly by." Seojin let's go of Taehyung to hug onto Jungkook. "The same goes for you."

"It's been hard to be happy since covid hit..and right when I start to feel happy again..we had to announce our hiatus for our solo projects before we all joined the military and I'm really struggling to be happy with my music.. I know army have been waiting for years.." taehyung let's out his emotions.

"I'm scared about my album too.." jungkook admits. "I was so scared doing dreamers.. I really prefer performing as 7..I want to do my best for army.."

"I don't want to be a solo artist. I want to stay as 7.. but there's so many rumors we're disbanding even after we told them we aren't.." Taehyung voiced his fears.

The members took turns sharing their worries, the older members that already made solo albums giving them advice.

"Just because you make solo music doesn't mean you still aren't BTS." Yoongi tells them."I made solo music, and that didn't change anything."

"We said we would continue to make music together for years to come, remember? As long as we trust in each other and army trusts us, we'll make it." Namjoon tells them.

The boys continue to pour their hearts out to one another until they hear Teahyungs stomach growl. He had hardly eaten that day because he was stressed out, but after talking, he was feeling better.

"Let's go get you some food." Jimin takes his hand. "No matter what we're in this together. I love you Taetae. Don't forget it."

[stateofsope]

SEVEN by Jungkook - I think it's getting hot in here

Chapter 2 is hotter than I expected it to be - and I think it's the fault of a soup and Kim Seokjin's wide shoulders.

Knees out, jeans ripped, chest naked - ARMY has to deal with a lot of things since Bangtan started their second chapter and it has not been easy for us.

I'm gonna be honest, I hadn't been an ARMY for too long, when chapter 2 started (I'm a Dynamite ARMY who took a while to realize she actually is one). So I didn't have to deal with Victorian maidens for too long, but I still was heavily hit when a certain someone posted a photo of himself on the beach, wide shoulders out, making us zoom in on that tiny little tattoo.

This is when everything started. (Let's not talk about the soup, that's to be unpacked in a different post.)

I expected a lot of things from Jungkook's first solo song. I knew whatever he has in store for us is gonna be huge and we're not ready. When the promo started, I - like many others - got more and more confused. Is it cute? Is it hot? Is he gonna be a bunny? Will his shirt be on?

Somehow, everything has been right. People on the outside wouldn't even be able to grasp this paradoxical.

On Friday it was finally time. My usual reaction to new BTS songs is usually tears. Did I cry this time? Not right away, because I was too stunned at how perfect this song is. It was a little later when my pride overwhelmed me and the tears started running.

Jungkook tries something completely different than his members. Each and every release since chapter 2 started has been a surprise. They are trying new things, finding their own flow - the first comeback they'll have has a group in some years is going to be insane. They'll all bring totally different experiences into it.

It makes me happy to see that also Jungkook is trying different things. Promo and music wise. I love the feature. I honestly didn't know Latto before and I probably would have never come across her, but she fits the song's vibe perfectly.

I love that Jungkook is featuring a female rapper.

Opposed to what some other people are saying on the internet, I absolutely love how sexy her part is! Her lyrics are awesome, her voice fits Jungkook's, they have a great dynamic within the melody and she looks absolutely stunning in the music video.

SEVEN is a sexy, summer song, about love and... well, you know what.

I do love to call Jungkook my baby (I actually like to call all the members that), but he definitely isn't one. Coming back to some people on the internet - they desperately need to learn that.

Our Jungkook is a grown man, who makes his own decisions and who can take care of himself. He doesn't need some strangers on the internet who don't even actually know him to post their hot takes on his musical decisions.

I love SEVEN. And yes, I love the explicit version even more than the clean one. You wanna know why? Because it means we have fully come to the point, where BTS can do what they want. They don't have to be careful anymore. They can talk about f*cking, can smoke and drink, go party and do whatever the hell they want.

And I'm so happy for them. Let them live their best lives and if you don't agree - there's the door. Leave the Magic Shop. There's gonna be so many others who will be happy to fill your spot.

I can't wait to see what he has in store for us, what his album is going to look like. I know I will love every second of it the same way I love the other member's releases.

[the-aggro-crag-car]

Okay so I feel like in a book 4 AU, Lake would be in Ryan's position while Jesse is in Min-Gi's.

Which is funny because when I see crossovers of the two books the trend is Ryan and Jesse bonding and Lake and Min-Gi bonding. And that makes sense because their demeanor are very similar, but that's it. Ryan and Jesse are louder and positive while Lake and Min-Gi are more subdued and practical.

But when it comes to their main driving forces and flaws though? The pairings are totally swapped.

Lake always needs to move forward no matter what the cost. If they stop for too long they'll be trapped again, so they can't just sit around waiting. They know for a fact that nothing will ever work out for them unless they make it happen, and the whole world is trying its hardest to be sure they won't be able to do it.

And I think in a different world, in a moment where it felt like the one person they always thought they could count on had abandoned them? Lake would do exactly what Ryan did. Go out alone, and then pick up every little bit of their life and try to reach their dream solo.

Jesse and Min-Gi's problems are so similar I feel like I don't even have to say all that much there. We don't get a lot (any) on what Jesse's parents are actually like, but if there's any pressure or expectations at all there's no way he isn't bending over backwards to try to meet them. Jesse with his people pleasing nature a few years later, with parents who want him to go to college and follow a safe path, to stay close to home because they'll miss him just so much if he left?

Yeah, that's a Jesse who would be hella conflicted about running off with barely a word. That's a Jesse who would panic and stall because he doesn't want to disappoint anyone, who would see Lake leaving without a word and decide that if that's what makes them happy, then he's not going to ruin it for them. He'll stay at home, where he's needed, and then they both can get what they want and no one is upset.

(He doesn't get what he wants and he is very upset, but that's not important.)

Lake coming back would probably be less upfront and more subtle about wanting to join up with Jesse again, but they still steal his keys because they are a little bit of an asshole. Jesse of course would chase after them because Lake his boss is going to be mad at him if he doesn't lock up!

Anyway imagine an at their most I-Don't-Need-Anyone Lake getting their number to zero by admitting that they'll always be there for Jesse only for him to escape the docent and Lake sees him seriously crying for the first time since they were like eight (because Jesse is always fine, he's always happy) because they abandoned him again.

[watermelonlovershigh]

18 Things You Do for Harry When He Gets Sick

AN: i know its not as many as it was for the things Harry does for you when you're sick but i couldn't think of any more. but i'm sure as soon as i post this, another idea will pop in my head. and i plan on doing one for them as parents, taking care of their kids when sick.

first part---- >>>>>>

25 Things I Believe Harry Does for You When You're Sick

This contains: talks of vomit, talks of crying, talks of sweating, & most importantly, comfort

{ husband!harry - married for one year - any solo Harry era - no kids yet }

word count: 1000

The things you do for your husband Harry when he is sick.

(i'm sorry but what is Harry even doing in this photo??? and why have i never seen it before???)

1. Harry is truly a big baby when he gets sick, though he tries to act tough, but always fails. So that leads to you running around in every-which-way, making sure every and all needs of Harry's are met. You don't mind though because taking care of the love of your life is more of a privilege than a job in your eyes.

2. When Harry is sick but won't admit it and tries to continue working in his at-home studio, you have to drag him out near bout and force him to get in the bed. Saying something like, "Please Harry, for me. I'm worried about you is all and I don't want you to get more sick." Then when Harry can see you're genuinely worried about his well being, he knows he can't say no to you and goes to get into bed like you pleaded for him to.

3. When Harry has a migraine, he'll lay his head in your lap and you'll give him a scalp massage while whispering gentle and soothing words that lead to him falling asleep in your lap (on the couch) and you'll sit there, patiently waiting for him to wake up and hope his headache has gone away.

4. Rub his tummy with your small hands when he complains that his stomach his hurting or feels upset.

5. Laying in bed, Harry will cry silently when he begins to feel sick to his stomach because he hates being sick. Then when he can't take it anymore, he'll stumble to the bathroom in the dark and heave over the toilet, praying you don't awake but unfortunately to him, you do awake from the sounds of retching and pad yourself to your master bathroom where you see Harry on his knees in front of the toilet, puking into the porcelain bowel. You quickly rush to be by your husbands side and rub over his sweaty back to comfort him.

6. When Harry stops puking for a minute or two, you'll ask him why he didn't wake you up when he felt sick and he'll say something like, "I didn't want you seeing me like this." or "You shouldn't have to see this because it's gross." or "It's embarrassing." And you'd retort back with, "Harry, I'm your wife. I'm supposed to see you at your weakest and most vulnerable state. I want too because it means you trust me enough to be vulnerable in front of me." or "Harry, I don't care that you're being sick and it's gross. I want to take care of you because I love you." or "It's not embarrassing Harry. It's called being human. We all get sick sometimes. So please don't feel embarrassed you got sick."

7. Use one of his notorious hair clips to clip back his bangs/fringe when he's hovering over the toilet, puking his guts up.

8. You drive to the studio to pick Harry up when his manager calls you saying Harry just got sick and needs to be driven home.

9. Harry will groan and moan in the passengers seat on the way home from the studio saying he isn't really that sick and you shouldn't have came to get him. But when he gets the sudden urge to throw up and shouts for you to pull the car over, you give him a knowing look, as if to say he should surrender and just admit that he's actually sick. Nevertheless though, you step out the vehicle and comfort him, trying your best to shield him from potential paparazzi.

10. Give him a bath when he stinks of sweat from the fever he ran all day. You may or may not get in the tub with him, depending on his request. When you do get into the tub with him though, you'll lean back on the tub and Harry lays back on you, resting his head on your boobs. You'll give him a scalp massage with shampoo and run a washcloth with his floral body wash all over his sticky body, making sure to get him good as new (clean wise).

11. Just hold him. When Harry is sick, he just likes to be held by you. In bed or on the couch. It makes him feel comforted and safe when he's in your arms.

12. You force him to eat even though he puts up a fight.

13. Check his temperature constantly. You'll wake up throughout the night and use the thermometer that hovers over his forehead. If you see its too high, you'll go down stairs and grab some fever reducer pills with a glass of water and have to wake him up to take them.

14. When Harry has had a bit too much alcohol to drink, he's very clinging towards you. And when he's drank way way too much and is feeling sick, you'll hold him in your lap on the bathroom floor, patiently waiting for him to throw up.

15. You'll rub vapor rub on his chest when he has a cold. Sometimes even waking up in the night, turning the lamp on, and adding some more to his chest while he continues sleeping.

16. Make him some warm tea when he has a sore throat.

17. Just like he does for you, you'll pat his skin with a damp cloth when his skin is heated from a fever.

18. Watch him sleep. That may be weird to say but sometimes you worry about Harry so much that you're afraid to fall asleep, thinking something may happen when you're unconscious. So you just lay awake and watch as the love of your life sleeps beside you, occasionally coughing from his cold and sometimes brush over his cheek bone with your soft fingers.

My Masterlist Masterpost

[mooniconic]

Chapter 6

Yuta was brimming with excitement, his plan was working. He knew you were pissed, and your reactions proved to him that you still cared. It’s a shitty thing to do, but he has tried being nice, but you weren’t responding, not until he acted like an asshole that you started taking notice. He hates that it’s the only way you react to him, but when he can finally explain things when you give him a chance then he can finally be honest of everything.

He can finally explain his biggest mistake in his life- breaking up with you.

“Please don't leave.”

“This is what you wanted, right? I’m just giving it to you, Avi.”

“This isn’t what I want. Yuta-”

You try to hold his hand, but he slips it away from your grip.

“Yuta, please. I’m not giving up on us. I’m still here, and I still love you. Please. Please don't do this.”

“You made your choice, Avi. You left me first.”

“I didn’t”

“You did. You chose your job over me.” He says through gritted teeth

“It’s not just a job, Yuta-” he starts to leave your room, rushing to get out of your apartment.

“Yuta, please let me explain. Yuta!” You try to chase him, but he turns around before you collide with his body.

“6 years down the drain, Avery. All because of that stupid job.” He slams your front door, leaving you in a crying mess in your living room.

Yuta chose the stairs over the elevator, it was ten floors down, but he didn't care. Tears roll down his eyes as he climbs the emergency stairwell, knowing damn well it wasn't because of a job. He knew he was a shitty boyfriend. His anxiety about you choosing someone better was what made him a possessive man. He couldn’t lose you- his paradise.

You were the one who believed in him, the one who loved him for who he was, but no matter how many times he repeats those words in his thoughts, it keeps getting replaced by the image of you being happy without him and how he knows you can survive without him has gotten him in knots. He blames himself for neglecting you, amongst other things. He tried so hard to keep you by his side, but it didn't work, so he pushed you away, but now it’s blowing up at his face.

He doesn’t want to let you go. His thoughts are running so fast that he needs to sit down. He cries and cries and lets the thoughts eat him up. “I’m a loser. I can't save my band. I can't save my relationship. It’s all my fault. All my fault.”

He snaps out of his thoughts when his manager, Chanyeol, calls his attention. “Hmm?” he says.

“I said whatever stunt you’re pulling, you better stop. We’re announcing the comeback in a week, and we can’t afford delays if you want this album out before the hiatus.”

“right, the hiatus," Yuta says in his head.

the hiatus was pushing through, and the group agreed to release a new album in exchange for a few months to try and explore solo projects. Yuta has been trying not to think about this; he saw other bands do this, and he knew most of them never made music as a band after the members started going solo. They were still in their golden era, their latest album and EP just went triple platinum, and now the members want to go solo?

Everyone is on his ass about this. He’s the only one against solo projects- it was the band or nothing else; why does everyone want to be on their own?

“It’s what we need, remember?” Sicheng says to him, and Yuta blinks at him, confused,

“You were making that face again?”

Yuta smirks “what face?”

“That face where you look like you’re about to murder everyone here,” Sicheng says with an awkward chuckle.

“Yeah, sure.” everyone besides Yuta feels like they're waiting for a bomb to drop; they’re careful around him, and even Jungwoo, who’s closer to him, was being cautious right now.

“I’m heading to bed. It’s another day tomorrow.” Yuta says with a closed-lip smile,

“Lay off, Avi, tomorrow. Sort out your relationship after the promotions,” Chanyeol says.

It’s like the air was sucked out of the room; he just stares at his opinionated manager and lets out a low “I don't know what you’re talking about.” and then heads to his room. He’s pissed off.

They don’t understand what he’s trying to do for the team and his personal life. He lets his thoughts lull him to sleep.

It was a month before his 6th anniversary with Avi, and he was still on tour. He wants nothing but to rest, but the music label has been booking them these dates to make up for their albums just barely going platinum. The tour dates were always almost sold out in places they never thought possible, but their local fanbase is their most reliable source of support and income; even their merch has sold out.

Management has been on their ass about playing it safe, no smoking (at least outdoors), keeping the cussing to a minimum, and absolutely no dating scandals (at least till they get two albums to platinum). So management had him hide Avery from the public while his band was none the wiser, he didn’t want to add to their worries; he saw how stressed his members were, and he was the leader after all the one who pushed them to take this path, so he felt responsible for shielding them from the other stuff. He knows why management wanted her out; they saw how bad it was for another band; their frontman was exposed for being engaged, they were more popular than 127, but then the rumors came out… well, now they barely make the top 100 list.

The industry is cold, and they’re lucky to be in a label where there’s support, but it’s still a business, and they need to keep things running smoothly. Yuta has been trying to keep everyone happy, and he’s sick of it. Hell, all he wanted was to make music and to come home to her- his paradise, but he couldn’t even do that.

He’s so worried about letting Avi out of his touch; she’s his home and the only person where he feels safe. He was so possessive of her, and he knew that and he tried, he really tried not to be toxic he wanted to keep himself sane, but the thoughts of her just meeting another person… the thoughts of her leaving him terrified him to the core,

Avery was the first person who never saw him as a failure, or as competition, she saw him for who he was- an insecure boy trying to please his family and everyone around him because he’s scared of being alone. Avery was the first person who encouraged him to go after what he wanted, even if it was just sushi, and she was the first person who would congratulate him for getting an A-minus.

He grew up needing to be the best at everything, and it was heaven when he didn't have to strive to be perfect, with Avery, all he had to strive for, was happiness. That happiness gave him so much freedom.

Now everything is just complicated. He knew how his anxiety had gotten worse, and he remembers his father telling them at the dinner table that only crazy people saw psychiatrists, and he is not crazy- he can't afford to be crazy. His family has started talking to him again, and his parents are trying to understand his career and get to know him. Damn, even his older sisters are talking to him again.

His family is starting to want to let Avery in, but he hasn't told her that yet. He wants to tell her when he’s sure they're not going to just blow it up in his face. He loves his family, but if their fallout taught him anything, it was that even blood couldn’t make you fully trust someone.

Now he stands outside her building with a mask and a hoodie. No one realized it was him, and he was grateful for that. He has a bouquet of her favorite flowers; he was excited to surprise her, even if it’s just a short dinner as he needs to fly back to be with members for the tour.

But what surprises him is how Avi walks out of the office building smiling and beaming like a sunflower following the sun, and then he looks at the person she was smiling at, a guy. Tall, good-looking enough to be a model; he says something, and she laughs.

Something he hasn't heard so much since the tour, he stands frozen in place; so many thoughts are running in his head, but one voice is loud; it’s the voice telling him that she has replaced him just as he feared. He watches her walk away from the building, and slowly he follows them; he sees her say goodbye to him, just a wave as she crosses the street to the bus stop. He just watches her until she gets on the bus, and then this man leaves with a smile on his face.

Yuta feels like a bucket of ice has just been poured over him; he dials her number, and she answers, and then the barrage of questions stumbles out of his mouth “where were you? What were you doing? Who are you with? Why didn't you text me at lunch?” She answers him honestly, but the feeling doesn't go away; he asks her what time she’d be home, and she says an hour at most. He hails a cab to go their-her apartment.

He waits outside her door, and she is surprised to see him there, she goes and gives him a big embrace, but Yuta notices that when she smiles at him, it was like she was tired. He knows her. He knows her well enough to see how she lies to him. Ever since that day, he texts her and calls her constantly. At first, she tried to reply to him immediately, but then she resorted to only texting him during off-work hours; this made him more angry and resentful.

His anxiety increased even when she tried to tell him what she did all day; it wasn't enough, and he needed her near him; he needed to see with his eyes that she was only for him. He would constantly check his phone and one time escaped from tour to check up on her, only for him to feel guilty as she was just at work and busy covering stories about an international celebrity. He went back to his bandmates a few hours before the show to find them fuming.

He left them, and management almost penalized them, but Mark was able to convince them that Yuta was just within the city. He failed to be a leader, and that incident caused the band to have that “solo stuff” conversation.

Sicheng said that all of them needed a break from the band. They were getting on each other’s nerves; he mostly opened it up because if he had to sit next to Haechan’s singing any longer, he was going to start smashing the youngest’s drum kit. Mark was excited, he wanted to do other genres of music besides rock, and Haechan feels the same. Jungwoo was excited to explore singing solo, he befriended a producer a few months back and was slowly making music with them. They all needed time to pause, also for Yuta’s sake it’s no secret he’s co-dependent on his girlfriend but his bandmates noticed he was always on edge even when it’s about the band.

He wakes from his sleep all groggy and tired. Today is his last chance to convince Avery to get back with him, he knows if he doesn't do anything today you’ll be with Johnny.

All he wants is another chance to be with you, at this point him being an asshole is what gets your attention so it’s what he starts being. He knows it's wrong but being an asshole and noticed by you is better than you ignoring him. When you blocked him and the 127 pages he felt like he was losing his mind.

For a month he couldn’t see any signs of you and he couldn’t even try to visit you since they were recording. He missed being happy. He misses being with you, feeling your soft skin against his calloused hands, running his fingers through your soft hair, and nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.

He misses being enveloped in you and letting go of the day’s stress because you’re all he wants to be consumed by. Some people call him codependent but he isn't right? He just loves you so much. Isn't falling in love supposed to be like this? He refuses to give up on them, the last time was just a moment of weakness, He’s stronger now, and he has better control of his anxiety. He’s better now. He has to be.

[lyricsofravensong]

The beat of a longing heart

• Jake x MC • hurt/comfort, fluff • ~ 1 675 words + a chat•

• request by Anon:  hey, i don't know how to start this ask but... well i got the news that my favorite drummer has passed away and i can't deal with it without thinking about jake comforting MC... i think this is weird and I must be mixing things up, but it's a comforting thought...you are my favorite writer on tumblr out of all the blogs and i am always happy to read your works so if you are accepting requests could you please write something about jake and mc? thank you😢❤️

• Your evening was supposed to be a sad song until the end, but then an unexpected melody appears from the rain.

A/N: Here it finally is! 🌠 Thank you for the request dear anon, I hope you're doing well. 💕 Sorry again for being so slow! 😖

I wasn't sure if you wished for a chat or a written story, so I combined them a little. :) I was really struggling with the editing but this is the best I can offer at the moment and I don't want to make you wait any longer. I hope so much I'm not letting you down and this story gives you the comfort you were missing. 💚

And thank you @dreamer-writer-fangirl for the encouragement! ❤

When you're happy, the beat of the music resonates with your cheerful heart; it dances and flutters in every corner of your body, making you feel powerful and alive.

When you're sad, the lyrics of the songs portray the pain your heart is aching with; they poke and stroke every inch of your bleeding soul, challenging and healing.

The song of your evening starts with a heavy sigh escaping from your lungs. Disappointment burns in your throat, but you swallow it down painfully. It's not Jake's fault that the theme of your day had been nothing but a repeating chorus of a sad song, and it seems like the evening is going to continue the manner. But you can't deny that the absence of his presence is one note more to the chord of your grief.

Rain sets the tune by hitting the roof with a sound that's reaching the rumbling measures of a thunderstorm. The ambience of it is making you even more anxious.

The beat comes in as a pulse of your longing heart, echoing in every cell of your body. Your mind is helplessly out of tune and can't keep up with the racing tempo.

You give up on tears as the rain makes a crescendo that covers the voice of your sobbing. Your thoughts are a swirling mess of unsettling beats, counting every person there is for you to miss. A wave of sorrow floods over your soul and the pouring rain invades your brain until your tears turn to raindrops. 

You cry for a long time and the static rhythm of the rain is like a stereo to your feelings.

At first, the careful knocking on the door gets lost in the mixed concert of percussion going on in your head. When it comes again stronger, you sit up slowly. You have no intention of answering it, a single glance at your tear-stained face in the mirror confirms that. You're sure that the intruder will give up quickly since who in their right mind would be outside in that weather. The doorbell rings once and is followed by the uplifting tone of your phone receiving a message. 

Your heartbeat drops tragically as you read the text Jake had sent.

Tension builds up as you hurry to the door without a second glance at the mirror. The beat of your heart drums in your ears when you yank the door open. And then - every sound goes silent. 

There's Jake, standing in the rain outside your door. His black hair is dripping wet as well as his hoodie of the same color. In contrast to them, he's holding a white plastic bag in his hand, phone in the other. Your eyes meet his and you stare at each other equally shocked. The shaken expression on Jake's face indicates that you look as awful as you felt a second ago. 

"I can't stop the rain, but… here I am. Ready to hold you," Jake says and a hint of embarrassment appears on his face. You follow his every move as he puts his phone in the pocket of his hoodie and then - trying to figure out what to do with his freed hand - runs his fingers through his wet hair. 

"I hope you're not bothered by me intruding like this," he mumbles awkwardly, making a shy glance towards you.

Words get caught in your throat and come out pitifully feeble, "Or course not, but… how?" Your voice breaks and you have to gasp for breath. "How? Why?"

There's a clear twitch on Jake's face by the tearful sound of your voice. For a minute he looks almost panicked as he struggles to find the next words.

"I was getting this when you texted me." He lifts the plastic bag so you can see the logo of a nearby Chinese restaurant. "Rain offers some cover so it's safer for me to be out. I was so insanely worried about you that my legs just carried me here."

Your mind is gradually catching up with the new tempo of this turn of events. Another wave of tears is blurring your eyes and you slap a hand over your mouth to cover the weird grin spreading on your face.

"And I'm glad they did," Jake continues, pulling the corner of his lips into a sympathetic smile. "I'd hate to think of you being alone like that."

You shake your head in disbelief at this unexpected change of key in the earlier flatness of your emotions. You let out a trembling breath. A new verse in the song of your evening starts when you sprint out in the rain and throw yourself into Jake's arms. You bury your face into his chest and let out the forceful sobs. Jake drops the bag on the ground and wraps his arms tightly around you. 

The drumming of the rain fades to the background as you stand in its shower, crying the whole record of your sorrows over Jake. He listens to it quietly and doesn’t let go even when you raise your hand to wipe your nose on your sleeve. Gradually your weeps quiet down along with the rain which is throwing the last separate drops on your already damped clothes. You rest your head on Jake’s shoulder and squeeze the back of his hoodie. 

“Have I ever told you why I like the rain?” his voice asks softly beside your ear. 

“No,” you sniffle. “I don’t believe you have.”

“I like it because it reminds me of you.”

“Why is that?” You raise your head to look at Jake’s face, forcing him to loosen his grip which he fixes by resting his hands behind your lower back. 

“It was pouring when I contacted you for the first time,” he smiles. “That was the day my life changed. For me, rain symbolizes the unpredictability of life. I feel like anything is possible on a rainy day.”

“That’s something you just proved to be true,” you laugh and brush a strand of hair aside from his forehead. Jake stares at your face with such intensity that you suddenly become very aware of your swollen eyes and runny nose. You blush and lower your head.

“I’m sorry about crying so much. I know I look hideous.”

Jake sets his hand gently on your cheek, making you look up at his face again as he examines yours even closer. 

“No, you’re still fascinating.” His whisper makes your heart sing with emotions you have never heard so vividly before. 

“My face is all swollen and full of tears…” you splutter in loss of words. 

Jake’s smile only widens and he wipes your cheeks tenderly with his fingers. “They’re just raindrops.”

You chuckle, “Then you can stop the rain after all.”

Tears of the sky are still dripping from the trees and corners of the roof all around you. They form an uneven rhythm of a harmony you’re now hearing differently; not as an echo of your pain, but more as a ballad for sadness.

But sadness is not the theme of your feelings anymore when you share the Chinese with Jake on the couch in your living room. No food has ever tasted so delicious as this slightly soaked and chill portion of noodles eaten straight from the container, taking turns of using the one pair of chopsticks Jake had with him.

The second verse of your evening is composed from comfort. After the food is finished and Jake’s drenched hoodie is drying on the back rest, you lean against his shoulder and slowly give lyrics for your sadness by telling him all about your previous distress. His t-shirt is wet too, but you forget it when his arm wraps around you, pulling you closer to his side. 

Jake's presence is a lot like music; without saying much he still makes you feel understood and healed. His comfort is mainly instrumental but filled with so many soothing nuances of warm touches and thoughtful nods. He is the melody your evening missed. He is the lyrics for your love and the stereo for your desire; resonating stronger than the drumming of the rain. He makes you believe that just like music, your feelings are also made to be shared with your loved ones. And as you let your head fall to his lap and turn on your back to meet the softness of his eyes, you realize that this one you love very much. 

Rain starts a new solo on the roof with full force as the song of this evening comes to the bridge. Jake bends down to you, his intention written clear on his face. Still he stops hesitantly right above your mouth, pausing the music just before the beat drops. But your heart is singing and you hit the play by reaching your hand behind his head and pulling him down to your lips. The kiss launches a full symphony inside you and every note makes you yearn for more. 

On a short rest between kisses you caress Jake’s cheek and say, “Now I hope it will never stop raining.”

“I thought you hated it,” Jake points out. 

“Not anymore,” you mumble while your attention is drawn to the way Jake’s mouth forms the words he speaks and how his lips are tuning into an amused smile. 

“What made you change your mind?” he asks. 

“No one in their right mind would go outside in that weather, so you have to wait here until the rain is over.” 

When you're in love, music understands your every feeling; the fluttering happiness, the aching yearning, and the healing comfort. All the lyrics tell the story of the two of you, of every smile and tear you’ve had. 

A perfect harmony is formed when two beats of two longning hearts meet each other in a beautiful duet. 

This song of your evening does not end yet, the music of your hearts continues beating in the calming dusk of a rainy day.

_____________________

It was actually raining every time I wrote this. 🤭☔

[1dfangirls35]

The Language of Your Soul

An enemies to lovers ballet au in 5 acts

Masterlist // Tell Me What You Think

Banner: @booksncoffee​

Act II

Sorry for the intermission guys but I’m back! 

Warnings: This story (and chapter) will contain language, mentions of emotional abuse from a parent and eating disorders. Please read at your own discretion. 

Eight Weeks Until Opening Night

Giselle's left hand grips the cool metal of the bar, her legs shaking uncontrollably beneath her -a result no doubt, of her five mile run this morning before rehearsals. Maybe that hadn't been the best idea after all.

Giselle hears Teagan enter the studio after her, announcing her entrance with the loud thud of her duffle bag hitting the floor. Giselle watches as Teagan grabs her pointe shoes out of the bag, taking a seat on the floor a few feet away from Giselle.

Giselle hates that Teagan has to be here, taking part in Giselle's solo rehearsals. The role of Odette was challenging enough- a true feat of technical perfection and stamina. She didn't need Teagan, the person who could snatch her dream role out from under her with just a few missteps, to watch her struggle through her early rehearsals. It makes Giselle feel like she is the prey, and Teagan is lurking in the shadows simply waiting for a moment of weakness to swoop in and swallow her up.

"How are rehearsals with Harry going?" Teagan asks, breaking the silence.

"Fine," Giselle responds shortly. But rehearsals are not going fine. They are an all-out disaster.

In the week and a half since the cast list had been announced, Giselle and Harry had yet to practice beyond their scheduled company rehearsals and it was showing. Giselle had tried on numerous occasions to suggest they work on the basics on their own but Harry had pushed it aside saying, "You've just got to know the choreography better."  Giselle left every rehearsal feeling like a complete and utter failure- unworthy of dancing with the likes of Harry Styles.

"A dancer like that can make anyone look good," Teagan says with a tone that implies that Giselle needs some help "looking good". Giselle ignores the comment, instead, mentally running through the choreography for the Act II variation.

Anna Elliot interrupts Giselle's mental rehearsal as she enters the room. It's strange to see Anna in a black tracksuit instead of a leotard and tights, her dark black hair falling around her shoulders instead of pulled back into its usually neat bun. Her face looks tired; her usual bright smile absent. Giselle supposes it can't be easy for her to be on the other side of the stage, leading the rehearsal instead of dancing it.

"Ladies," she announces. "We are going to run through the Act II variation today. Giselle, you'll go first."

Giselle nods, pulling up the waistband of her white practice tutu as she positions herself upstage center in the studio. She tries to ignore Teagan's narrow eyes staring at her as the pianist begins  to play.

As she dances Giselle thinks through each and every movement. Smooth développé, lifted attitude, airy bourrées. When she finishes her chaîné turns at the end of the variation, she exhales deeply- not realizing how much she had been holding her breath.

She looks towards Anna for approval. "Nicely done Giselle. Now I'd like you to work on those  chaînés at the end. Really make sure they are tight and quick."

Giselle nods in understanding.

"But overall, beautiful execution of the choreography. We really just need to fine tune."

Giselle smiles smugly, glancing at Teagan who stands with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Teagan," Anna announces, gesturing for the understudy to take her stab at the variation. Giselle watches as Teagan runs the variation, but mentally she's thinking about all the things she could have done better in her own.

"Well done, Teagan. Now your attitudes were a little sloppy, let's work on really lengthening that back leg and lifting your chest okay?" Teagan nods. "But I loved the emotion that you put into your dancing. Giselle?" Anna calls, grabbing her attention. "Did you notice the emotion that Teagan puts into her movements? It's something that I'd like you to work on incorporating into your variation. The audience needs to feel what Odette is feeling through you. Let's do it from the top."

Giselle runs the routine again. She tries to 'portray the emotion' like Anna wants, but instead her heads caught up in executing her turns and keeping her arms sharp. When she ends the variation, Anna looks over at her with disappointed eyes. "More" is all she says.

Giselle runs it again. And another time. And each time, Anna tells her it is not enough. That Giselle needs to embrace being Odette. That the audience needs to understand the pain of her being trapped in this body of a swan with no escape.

"Teagan, why don't you run again. Giselle pay close attention this time."

Giselle feels her frustration grow as she watches Teagan again. Teagan's movements are still sloppy, and she messes up the step-over turns at the end, but when she finishes Anna looks over at Giselle like they've just watched the most magnificent performance. "That is the emotion I need to see Giselle."

Anna looks down at her watch. "Well I think our rehearsal time is up for today. Keep working on that emotion Giselle, its a very important part of this ballet."

Giselle nods and smiles, but inside her guts are wrenching at the thought of this rehearsal getting back to her mother. She has to do better. She must.

******

If Harry had learned one thing in his time as a professional ballet dancer, it was that relationships and commitments were the hidden poison of a professional dancer's career. He'd watched many sets of partners fall in love, only to ruin their careers in the aftermath of their failed relationship.

That is why Harry chose to remain unattached. Well, the why he chose to accept anyway. He wasn't a man that ignored his needs, but a night with Harry Styles was just that- a night. No feelings and no attachments.

Take for example the girl he took home last week after the party for his addition to the company. What was her name again? Eliza, yes that's right. There was absolutely nothing wrong with Eliza. She was pretty, a fair conversationalist and perfectly good in bed. Harry had supposed she must even be a decent ballerina, considering she was a corps de ballet member at the American Ballet Theatre. But to Harry, Eliza had only been a nice shag and a body to fall asleep next to on a night when a bustling New York City felt a little too lonely.

Apparently, however, Harry had been less than clear with dear Eliza about this, because as Harry chats with the tall, auburn-haired dancer standing in front of him as they warm up for company class, he can see the daggers of jealousy emitting from Eliza's eyes. He doesn't know this girl's name, the new one, but he can already sense the desire wafting from her body. The way she's learning forward to be closer to him as she stretches. The way she's laughing theatrically with every word that Harry says. The way her eyes are lingering on his lips for just a second too long as he speaks. He's beginning to think she might be a little much for him and makes a mental note to choose a different spot at the barre for tomorrow's company class.

He knows he's in trouble when the second the reverence ends, Eliza rushes over to him with and without saying a word slaps him across the cheek with more force than he thought possible out of her thin little arms.

Harry's skin stings from the blow, the corner of his eye watering ever so slightly. He presses a hand to the injured tissue in response to the attack. But this is not the first time Harry's received such an offense, and it likely won't be the last.

"So what are you just jumping on to the next one?" she shrieks. Harry looks around the room, noticing that people have stopped packing up their things and are now staring at him like he's a caged animal at the zoo.

"I'm sorry love, I'm not sure what you mean," Harry says in a low voice, hoping to signal to this highly emotional girl that this was not the time nor the place to have a reaction like this.

His words, however, appear to have the opposite effect because he watches her eyes flair with a new burst of anguish.

"Rachel!" the girl shouts, as if Harry has the foggiest idea who Rachel is. "Everyone in the room could see how much she was flirting with you. Did last weekend mean nothing to you?!" Eliza's thrown her hands up now, gesturing wildly in a way that's anything but graceful. "You said you would call and you never did."

Harry glances at his audience.  Mistress Ivanova is standing in  the corner with her arms crossed, looking less than pleased. He grabs Eliza's arm, pulling her towards the door and into the hallway. "Let's take this outside."

When they stop in the hallway, dancers bustling past them on the way to their next rehearsal. Eliza looks up at him. Her brown eyes are tinged with red and Harry wonders if she's about to cry. He'd made a mistake with this one clearly. She was too emotional. Too clingy. Too easily attached. "I never said I would call." Harry says softly, trying to keep his voice calm but firm.

"But you said you had a 'lovely time last night. Thank you.' Eliza sniffles.

She isn't wrong about that. Harry thought. And he did have a lovely time. He usually had a lovely time. But that certainly didn't mean he planned to repeat it. "I did have a lovely time Eliza." he begins, watching as her eyes flicker with something resembling hope. "But that doesn't mean I was going to call."

"It doesn't?" the girl sniffed, bringing her hand up to wipe a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

"Listen, love. I don't do dating. I don't do commitments. I don't do relationships. It's nothing against you. I'm certain you're a lovely girl. It's just..." Harry pauses. "How I do things."

Eliza looks at him wide-eyed, like Harry has just burst her forty-eight hour fantasy that they were going to run away together and travel the world and fall in love.

"I'm sorry if you got the impression that that was simply more than a one night thing. That was never my intention."

"Okay," she says timidly, and he can tell she's embarrassed. She shouldn't be- she wasn't the first girl to react like this. Harry seemed to draw admirers to him like mosquitos to sitting water. Some knew it couldn't be more than a one-night stand, others, like Eliza, reveled in the fantasy that they were the one that would convert Harry Styles into a life of commitment. The later were always disappointed.

"Are we good then? This won't happen again?" Harry raises his eyebrow. He's already fearing the repercussions he may get from Eliza's little outburst. He is already on a short leash here at ABT, and this was surely not going to help matters.

"We're good," she replies softly, but her face is filled with defeat.

"Well then, off to rehearsals." Harry adjusts his duffle bag across his shoulder and makes his way towards his rehearsal studio.

Harry already knows he's late when he enters the rehearsal studio. Giselle's standing there with her arms crossed, tapping the tip of her pointe shoe against the floor with impatience. She doesn't scare him, but the face of Mistress Ivanova when he enters the room does.

"Mr. Styles," she announces with a voice that resembles that of a mother about to lecture her young child. "Let me be the first to say that I take little interest in who you choose to spend your personal time with. When the choices made in that personal time, however, disturb my class and my rehearsals, it becomes my business. What happened today was completely unacceptable. And it will not happen again. May I remind you that you are on a very short leash here at ABT. Another incident like today and you will be replaced."

Six months ago, when Harry was at the Royal, he might have argued back. Reminded this instructor that she could replace him all she wanted but that people had bought their season tickets to see HIM- not some understudy. Reminded Mistress Ivanova that he could have a spot at any company in the world, and that it was HER job to make sure he stayed. But that kind of reaction, that thought process, was exactly what had landed him in this position in the first place- half a world away from home. Alone and at risk of losing a career in dance. So he bites his tongue and simply replies, "I understand."

He glances over at Giselle, who has something resembling a smirk across her face. When his eyes meet hers she quickly turns away.

"Now, we are going to work on the Act II white adagio today. I presume you two have spent some time together working on partnering so this should go smoothly." Mistress Ivanova claps her hands and signals the pianist to begin playing the music.

The fact that they hadn't practiced quickly becomes apparent. Their timing is completely off, the promenades are wobbly,  and the dancing seems forced and unfamiliar.

"Maybe if you weren't making your way through the entire corps de ballet we could actually rehearse together," Giselle mutters under her breath as Mistress Ivanova leaves the room with a face that looks less than pleased.

"Maybe if you didn't act like I was about to drop you every time we promenade..." Harry begins.

"How do I know you aren't going to drop me when we've barely danced together?!"

Harry laughs. "I'm Harry Styles. I don't drop my partners, no matter how...annoying I may find them."

"Oh please," Giselle rolls her eyes. "Are you trying to make everyone in this company hate you? I mean if you keep at it with the corps and you'll have to skip company class all together." Giselle preps for a pirouette then relevés, feeling Harry's firm grip on her waist as she turns and he stops her abruptly. "Although I don't know, I get the sense that you like all that attention."

"Believe me Giselle," he accentuates the end of her name like it's a bad sound. "The last thing I want is to get emotionally involved with any of these company members."

Giselle preps for a pirouette again, this time Harry stops her smoothly, and she comes to balance in passé before lowering herself back onto her heels.

"Seems like Eliza was emotionally involved this morning. Sex will do that to people."

"Sex is just dancing without clothes, love." Harry replies, and the way his eyes meet hers in the mirror while his hands are placed on her waist sends a shiver down Giselle's spine. "Haven't you ever spent the night with someone just to escape?"

"Of course." Giselle responds, stumbling in her words only slightly. "But I know the importance of keeping my career and my private life separate."

The truth of the matter was, of late, Giselle hadn't had much of a private life. It was ballet this, ballet that. Any hours not spent in the studio were spent icing her achying feet and tired muscles. Giselle had done it once, the whole relationship thing. He was a young businessman who she met at a fundraiser for the company and he had been wonderful. Until she began to spend time with him instead of in the studio, and her mother quickly noticed her regression of skills.

Natalia Korsakova had been quick to express her distaste in the relationship and the effect it was having on her daughter's dancing. But luckily (or unluckily) for Giselle, she didn't have to be the one to break it off. One night she was laying in bed, watching a movie with a man she thought she might be falling for. Two days later, he simply stopped answering her texts or picking up his phone. He simply dropped out of Giselle's life with no explanation.

After that, Giselle knew better then to get involved with anyone who might distract her from her career. She decided maybe it was for the better, after all if there was one theme to be taken from the world of ballet, it was that love rarely ended in happy endings. There were far too many leads who sacrificed their lives in the name of love and for what? A pretty pas de deux in a pancake tutu of the afterlife?

"Hmm," Harry replies, but by the way his lips have formed into a kind of half smirk Giselle doesn't think he believes her.

They run through the variation again. It's better, their timing not nearly as disasterous as it had been a half hour earlier, but it still feels off. Unfamiliar. Like they were two strangers dancing, which Giselle supposed they were.

Mistress Ivanova doesn't return to the studio. Instead, it's Viktor who appears, twisting his hands together in awkwardness as he steps towards the front of the room. "Mistress Ivanova sent me in to run you through the variation again. She says she doesn't want to see it again until it, and I quote," Viktor pauses for emphasis. "No longer looks like it's torture to dance with each other."

Giselle hears a low chuckle leave Harry's lips. Was he amused by this? The fact that his inability to do what was asked of him had pissed off Mistress Ivanova.

"Let's run it. From the top," Viktor gestures to the pianist that has also returned to the room.

Giselle sighs, taking a deep breath before making her way to the starting point. The run the piece once- Giselle falls from the promenade. A second time- Harry doesn't stop her on the last pirouette. The third time is less technically faulty, but when Viktor stops them again, his face looks less than thrilled.

"Look guys, I know it can't be easy, being thrown into rehearsals with someone you've never danced with before. All your issues can be fixed easily once you are more comfortable with each other. More familiar with each others movements. It's going to take time, and rehearsal. And that's going to have to be rehearsal outside of normal hours."

Giselle glances over at Harry. His lips are formed in a straight line- emotionless.

"Just please. Practice before next weeks rehearsal with her?" Viktor's eyes are pleading this time, like he doesn't want to have to be the bad guy in this situation anymore.

Giselle nods, but out of the corner of her eye she notices that Harry remains completely still.

"Well, that's all for today. Thanks guys." Viktor announces before leaving the studio.

Giselle sits down, untying the ribbon of her pointe shoes. "So when would you be available to practice?"

Harry scoffs. "Practice? I don't think I'm the one that needs to learn the fucking choreography."

Giselle is taken aback by Harry's harsh tone. But she wasn't going to put up with this. Like it or not she was Harry's partner. And like it or not, they were going to have to put in some time if they wanted to keep their roles as the stars of the show. Harry was simply going to have to realize that he had just as much to practice as she does.

"No one said anything about the choreography," Giselle replies, her voice strong. "This isn't the Royal, Harry you can't go walking around like you own the place."

"And you can?" Harry scoffs. "Just because your mother's got a spot on the board doesn't make you the star of the show, love."

The word love at the end of his sentence almost cushions the blow of his words. Almost.

"You don't know the first thing about my relationship with my mother," Giselle spit back.

"And you don't know anything about starring in a show-clearly."

Giselle doesn't respond to this one. Instead she just narrows her eyes. "Tomorrow night, after rehearsals. This studio. We have to practice Harry, I won't have Mistress Ivanova storm out of another one of our rehearsals."

"And what are you going to do if I don't show? Are you going to run and cry to your mummy?" Harry taunts.

Giselle stands, slinging her bag across her shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow," she states firmly.

She can feel her blood boiling as she exits the studio and makes her way towards the staircase. If this was what it was like to be Odette, maybe she wasn't cut out for it. It was hard to imagine a scenario and which her and Harry's partnership would result in a magnificent performance.

"Giselle!" she turns and sees Viktor from the corner of eye, near the end of the hallway. He rushes towards her.

"Good job today. Harry may not be the most..." he stops, his mind searching for the word, "enthusiastic partner."

Giselle offers a weak smile. "You can say that again."

"If you ever want extra practice, I'd be more than happy to run through any of the variations with you. It may not be the solution to all your problems but..."

"Thank you Viktor, I appreciate it." She smiles and makes a step towards the door. "Sorry to hear about your retirement by the way, I'll really miss watching you on stage."

Viktor shrugs. "I guess sometimes it's just time to let one journey come to an end. You won't miss me too much though, I'm gonna be more involved with rehearsals." He smiles, but Giselle can see that behind his blue eyes, pain hides.

"Good. Well, I better go get some rest. Caleb has been texting me non-stop about our dinner plans for the evening," Giselle gestures towards the stairs.

"Better get on that then, don't want to keep the man waiting. Good night Giselle."

"Goodnight," she replies.

******************************

Giselle wishes she hadn't agreed on dinner with Caleb as she opens the door to her apartment. But Caleb was her best friend, and after a long day of rehearsals, his company was something that she desperately needed.

As Giselle sets her black duffle bag on the floor inside her bedroom, her phone begins to ring on the kitchen counter. She leaps across the floor to reach it, but when she glances down, the name on the screen makes her pulse quicken. Could this day get any worse?

"Hello mother," Giselle brings the phone to her ear, walking over to the couch and laying down, her feet up in the air.

"Giselle," her mother replies curtly. There's no darling at the end of her name. That's how Giselle knows this isn't a happy check-in motherly phone call. It's going to be the kind of phone call Giselle wishes she could mute. But then again, that's what everyone of mother's phone calls was.

"I ran into Mistress Ivanova this afternoon. I have to say Giselle, I was quite disappointed when I asked about rehearsals and she told me that she had to leave your pas de deux rehearsal because of how much work needed to be done. How many times have we discussed the importance of going into rehearsals prepared?"

Only a million times. Giselle responds in her head, but instead she remains silent.

"Now what on earth is going on between you and Harry Styles? Do you know how hard we worked to bring him here? I hope you are being a good partner. Have you been following that diet I sent you? Getting your extra mile in in the mornings?"

"Yes mother," she responds in monotone. She won't mention the street tacos Caleb is bringing over for dinner. She can't listen to that lecture tonight. "I've been trying to get Harry to put in the extra time, but he seems uninterested."

"Well try harder Giselle. You can't be the reason he doesn't stay at the company. Can you imagine the embarrassment I would get if my own daughter was the reason we lost out on one of the premier male ballet dancers of this generation? I don't know if I could show my face at a board meeting ever again."

Of course it was her own reputation her mother was concerned about. It didn't matter that Harry Styles might ruin Giselle's chances of every making principal. All that mattered was that Natalia Korsakova maintained her legacy.

Giselle hears a knock at the door. Caleb, thank god. She rises from the couch and makes her way to the door. "Find a way to get things going with Harry.  Rehearse with him. Next time I speak with Mistress Ivanova I don't want to hear a negative thing about your performance." Giselle opens the door to see a smiling Caleb, brown paper bag in hand. "You have to do better Giselle, this may be your only opportunity to prove you can dance at a principal level."

Caleb mouths "Your mom?" and Giselle nods as he enters the apartment, setting the bag on the table and then making his way towards the white cupboards for plates.

"I know mom. It won't happen again. Listen, I've got to go. Caleb's going to run through Act II with me for a bit. Okay?"

"Okay," her mother sighs on the other line. Like it's a terrible inconvenience for her to have been on the phone for so long. "But don't forget to reach out to Harry about rehearsals too."

"I won't. Goodbye mom."

"Bye," Natalia responds, but Giselle barely hears her words before hanging up.

Giselle slams her phone down on the kitchen table which results in a raised eyebrow from Caleb "What'd she have to lecture you on today?"

"My disaster of a pas de deux rehearsal," Giselle shakes her head, making her way to the sink and filling a glass of water.

"And why was it such a disaster?" Caleb asks, setting a plate and napkin in front of Giselle's spot.

"Because Mistress Ivanova walked out on us,"

Giselle watches as shock fills her best friend's face. He stops what he is doing. "She what?"

"She walked out. And she won't rehearse with us again until we don't 'look like it's torture to dance with each other."

"It's that bad?" Caleb asks, now taking a bite of his taco.

"Worse. I mean it's been almost two weeks since cast posting and Harry has yet to agree to practice with me outside of rehearsals. I mean how our we ever going to dance with each other if we don't practice!"

Caleb opens his mouth to say something but Giselle continues. "I finally had enough today. I told him we are practicing tomorrow night. Doubt he shows though. And then what? My one chance to prove myself and it's a complete disaster."

"Gi," Caleb says, reaching for her hand across the table. "Take a deep breath."

She looks into his brown eyes and follows as they inhale and exhale in unison. It was an action they'd done a million times before, backstage awaiting their first performance as company members, when Caleb submitted his first choreographed routine to a local amateur dance company. It always seemed to bring them back to center, wherever they were, whatever the stressor, one deep breathe and things began to fall back into place.

Giselle would like to say that this worked a miracle. That the thought of failing her mother yet again wasn't racing through her mind. But it still was. Fainter, but still lingering.

"I just don't know what to do with him, Caleb. Harry Styles has to be the worst partner in the world."

"He's definitely proved why he got kicked out of the Royal. Guy's got an attitude."

"Why couldn't you be my partner?" Giselle sighed.

"Because, as Mistress Ivanova would say. I waste too much of my time on that choreography dream," Caleb sighs.

"It's not a waste of time, Caleb. You're choreography is groundbreaking."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But do you know what is groundbreaking? These tacos."

Giselle hasn't touched the fried, greasy mess wrapped in foil in front of her. To be honest, she isn't even hungry. If she had been alone in her apartment, she'd likely have opted for a salad, if anything at all. But Caleb was one of those people who believed food was the best cure after a long day. And Giselle needed his company more than anything, so she forces down the greasiness bite by bite.

Caleb begins to fill Giselle in on his own Swan Lake rehearsals. As well as the piece he is choreographing that he hopes Gregory, the artistic director will consider for the school showcase come spring. Then he updates her as always, on Finn, the coffee shop owner from down the street that he is infatuated with.

As they chat, Caleb's favorite street tacos grow heavy in Giselle's stomach.

Giselle makes her way to the bathroom, locking the door behind her with a click. She examines herself in the mirror, bringing a hand up to pull at her cheek. Her chin looks large, like she's had just a few too many street tacos, and her collarbones lack the definition that usually makes them stand out from her shoulders. Her mom's words echo through her mind. "Eat less Giselle. Exercise more Giselle. You need to be a good partner Giselle."

Giselle doesn't want to. She's been so good for so long, but yet- the urge is coming over her and it's so strong she can't ignore it, because she just knows that if she does this she will feel better. Just this once. Just until that heavy feeling of greasy street food is no longer lingering in her stomach.

She flips on the faucet, letting the sound of running water drum in the background.

She walks over to the toilet and kneels down, the gray ceramic tile of her bathroom floor is cold and hard, and her knees crack as she adjusts her weight. She leans over the toilet, her mouth open and her fingers nearby, willing up the strength to just do it. A few moments, and she could forget those tacos happened all together.

Giselle closes her eyes and executes and soon her dinner is staring back at her from the toilet bowl. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, reaching up and flushing the evidence. She then moves to the sink, cupping water into her hands until there's enough to gargle in her throat and rinse the sour taste from her mouth. She reaches for the pink toothbrush on the corner of the counter, applying a thin line of mint toothpaste before beginning to brush.

As she brushes, she tells herself this is just a one time thing. A solution to one poor dietary decision. She wasn't falling back into her old habits. This wouldn't happen again.

As she spit out the minty foam and looked in the mirror once more, Giselle told herself she felt better.

"Gi?" Caleb knocks on the door, bringing her out of her trance. "You alright in there?"

Giselle opens the door quickly, forcing a smile on her face. "Fine, tacos just didn't settle well." She pushes towards the couch, eager to get something else on her mind. "Shall we watch the next episode of The Crown?"

"Sounds perfect," Caleb replies, settling into the couch beside her.

**********************

Harry's not sure who is more surprised as he walks into the rehearsal studio later the next afternoon- Giselle or himself. He hadn't wanted to show up. But after the events with Eliza and the way rehearsal went, he knew he didn't have much choice. This didn't have to become a regular occurrence, just enough to get the Director off his back - and his obnoxious partner. Plus, dancing was better than sitting in his tiny New York City apartment alone, which seemed to have become even more lonely in recent weeks.

"Look who decided to make an appearance," Giselle says, hands on her hips as Harry slings his duffle bag to the side of the room.

"Yes I'm here. No need to gloat about it," Harry snaps. He wasn't sure what had come over him lately, this newfound bitterness. He supposed it had something to do with the fact that for the first time in his career, he was feeling the pressure of messing up. He could lose everything.

Harry had always been arrogant. He knew that about himself. It was the role he played to protect himself- from getting too close and getting hurt all over again. But as this personality trait slowly burned through his professional life, he began to wonder if it was doing more harm than good.

"Well then," he asks. "Shall we rehearse?" He looks at Giselle, who simply stares at him. The tip of her pointe shoe tapping against the Marley floor. What was she waiting for?

"Look Giselle, you don't like me. I get it. I'm not particularly fond of you either, but I showed up today and I'm ready to figure this out. This partnership. So can we please just rehearse?"

Giselle stares at him, slightly amused by the reversal of roles- the fact that for once Harry Styles was the one begging for her to practice with him. Her lips curve into a half smile. "Okay."

"I think we should go back to the basics. Finger pirouettes, whip turns, the whole lot." Giselle nods in agreement. Where had this Harry come from? She felt like at any moment she might jolt awake from her bed and realize this was all a dream, because this was certainly not the version of Harry Styles she had encountered during their first two weeks as partners. She wants to ask him about his sudden change of heart, but decides to bite her tongue. It didn't matter why Harry was here, just that he was.

Giselle stands in front of Harry her feet in relevé. She reaches for his hands, one above her and one beside her.

"How's that for grip?" Harry asks.

Giselle's startled that he's asking for her input. "Good...ya...let's just see..." She raises her leg to passé, then développé it to the front and turns. "Maybe bring my left arm a little more forward," she suggests, then turns again. "Yes that's better."

They continue this formula through the basics. Whip turns, fish dips, shoulder sits, promenades. Harry tells Giselle when she's not holding enough of her weight. Giselle tells Harry when his grip is too strong, too lose.

He's calmer today- more present. Giselle can see that he actually could be a very good partner- when he tries too. He's gentle with his lifts, steady with his balance, and although she doesn't trust him fully, she doesn't get the sense that he's going to purposefully let her fall on her face.

Giselle even thinks, that as she stares into Harry's eyes after a dip- that there's a glimmer of softness between the strong green hue. She sees why women find him attractive. Why girls in the corps fawn over him. His jawline was flawless- razor sharp. What are you thinking Giselle, she thinks to herself. All the beauty in the world can't hide his personality.

"Shall we run Act II?" Harry asks, and Giselle is shocked. She figured that she'd only be able to convince Harry to rehearse for an hour tops, and two had already passed.

"I think that would be good," she says.

Harry nods as they move to their places. Act II goes smoother than it has before. There's still hiccups. Giselle's body still feels unfamiliar in his hands and he can't anticipate her movements like he could Mia's- but Giselle's confidence has grown and he thinks there's a potential for this not to end in full on disaster.

She's quite good actually. Her technique is near flawless- no doubt due to the hours of late nights she spends in the studio. And Harry realizes that maybe he has been a bit unfair to her. She still was annoying, a perfectionist, too wrapped up in the movement instead of simply dancing- but she was a good dancer. She had potential.

"Think that's enough for tonight," Giselle pants, out of breath from their third run-through of the pas de deux. "Shall we do this again tomorrow?" After the words leave her mouth, she wonders if this is pushing it to far. Maybe she should have settled for one rehearsal with Harry. Getting him to show up for to rehearsals two nights in a row seemed highly unlikely.

"Okay," Harry responds, his answer shocking even himself. "I think we are getting somewhere. It just takes time." He makes his way over to the bar, leaning forward to stretch his hamstrings.

Giselle sits on the ground, unwrapping the silk ribbon of her pointe shoes.

"You know the steps Giselle and I'll make sure you look good out there. Promise," he says, and Giselle thinks that maybe she can see even a hint of a smile.

Giselle pulls her foot out of her shoe, folding her tights back to reveal her stinging blistered feet. She glances over at Harry, his face buried against his leg at the bar- his tights showing off his perfectly toned leg. It makes her think about him- the rumors about his arrival at ABT. She knows she shouldn't ruin the moment but she can't help herself. The words slip out.

"Did you do it?"

"Do what?" Harry asks, but the smirk on his face tells Giselle that he already knows exactly what she is about to ask about.

"Sleep with the director's wife."

"What's it to you?" Harry mutters, placing his other leg on the barre and stretching against it, the muscles of his back growing taunt beneath his white T-shirt.

Giselle shrugged. She didn't know why she was asking. She didn't care. Whatever had transpired at the Royal to bring Harry Styles into her studio was said and done. It's not like she could ship him back there, much to her dismay. "Just wanted to know if there was any fact behind the rumors."

"I could have," Harry says the sharp green of his eyes temporarily dimming. "There are countless women who have thrown themselves at my feet during my career, Mrs. Abbot included."

"But if you didn't... why'd you leave the Royal?"

"Now why would I tell you that when there's such a good story brewing in the company? I hate to kill a good rumor," He chuckles, his voice deep and velvety. He picks up his bag, sliding it across his body in one fluid movement. "Goodnight Giselle. I'll see you tomorrow."

And for the first time Giselle found herself not watching Harry Styles walk away with a feeling of distaste, but a feeling of curiosity.

Taglist:

@tpwkhoney​ ,  @swtxel , @stylessugarhigh

[everafterkeiji]

Song: Hiccup by Valley

Summary: After encountering a road block in your relationship, what path will you take to wind up your broken heart with Iwaizumi?

Pairings: Hajime Iwaizumi x fem!reader

Genre/Warning: angst, cursing

Word count: 6k

A/N: i promise myself i was going to write some bokuto fluff but this song keeps bringing me back to iwa😣 also pls listen to this song<3

2 YEARS AGO

"Tooru."

You call out to him, knees to the floor clutching tightly on your shirt, droplets to the wooden surface. Oikawa harshly closes his eyes, unable to let his eyes rest on your weakened state. He takes a deep breath when he hears your mournful sob. He hears how you took in rough gasps of air so he drops the box from his hands as he rushes to you, his knee scraping from sliding to the floor as he takes you in his chest as you sobbed even more. Oikawa allowing his own tears to fall on your clothes.

He consistently caresses your hair, as your sniffles and cries of pain covered the eary atmosphere of your apartment.

"Tooru." You call out again, he closes his eyes as he leans his head on yours. He dreaded every second that passed knowing he shouldn't be the one to comfort you, but he knew your savior wasn't going to rescue you this time.

"Do you think he'll miss me?"

"I know he will, darling." He assures you, and you wipe your eyes gasping for air once again before speaking again. He lets his hand slide down to your back, patting it every now and then.

"But there's someone better huh?"

Oikawa bites his lip, and you take this silence as an answer you'd never forget. Your lips tug upwards, grinning at how it stung when it came from Oikawa. To Tooru, no one could replace you. He couldn't envision someone to love his brother the way you did and no amount of pain can top how much you cherished each other but he couldn't answer because he was unsure of the motives of the past ace.

"Thank you for staying." You whisper and he pulled you closer as he sighs, glancing at the apartment that appeared in their late night video calls. The same room where he saw the brightest smile that was painted on Iwaizumi, the eyes that carried passion whenever you'd pop up. Visiting the apartment for the first time, he didn't expect how- lifeless it felt.

"Always."

PRESENT

You stretched as you rolled over to the side, used to the ghost of him. You shouldn't be used to it, he should be there to occupy it everyday but every morning you were just greeted by the chilliness he brought you.

The sun sneakily shined upon your eyes as you immediately turn away, expecting the memories to strike your heart like it does whenever the sun flaunted its rays.

"You're mesmerizing." He whispers, his pointer finger inched its way down to your cheek, smiling to himself. You hummed in response, shuffling in the sheets as his heart pounders at the sight of your shoulder peeking through the thin material, with the sunlight decorating your skin with its beauty.

You opened your eyes only to be surprised by how bright the sun was making you close them immediately, giggling to yourself. Who knew his heart could melt even more? Once you've slowly opened your eyes again, you gaze at your Hajime placing a hand on his cheek. With his hand on your chin, he slowly lifts it so your lips meet with his as you smile, running your hand from his cheek to his hair, while closing your eyes at the

He pulls away as butterflies swarmed inside him, pushing back the string of hair that landed in your eyes.

"I love you."

"Forever?"

"And ever after."

You curse at the usual memory that would pass you every morning. It annoyed you how there wasn't a day where you weren't starting the morning this pissed off. Realistically speaking, you adored how your memories would bring life to your body once in a while but when love appears, pain tags along- making it hard to enjoy the only things that could take away the emptiness.

Without him, you could never bring yourself to close the curtains. A habit you've devastatingly brought upon yourself.

Whenever the sun rose and it's light surrounded your room, it was the closest embrace you could ever have from him.

You let your fingers graze over the longing sensation on your lips. Incapable of forgetting how every kiss from his plush lips made you high. Intoxicated with his devotion to you. Each having it's own unique way of bringing you stories from the way it synced with yours.

Do you ever think about coming back to kiss my mouth? You ask yourself, sadly letting go of your lips before stepping into the bathroom.

I miss the taste of you and it's always been you. Iwaizumi thinks to himself as he feels the tingle of coldness from his lips. Like you, he adored the way his mornings were blessings but his room looked like a grave for his emotions.

Curtains closed, not allowing to let the sun peak through since the light in his world wasn't there to bring back the life in his soulless apartment.

He steps out of bed entering his bathroom, brushing his teeth as he rubs his eyes with his free hand.

"S-shush! Baby- baby stop talking!" He says chuckling before placing the toothbrush in your mouth. You two were superbly drunk and it seems like even if Iwaizumi was drunk to the gods, he was still the responsible one in the relationship. You were already about to pass out but his loud laughter kept you awake.

"But Hajime- let me sleep already, you're so noisy bub." You pout but he chuckles again. You turn behind you try and sit on top of the counter but you slid off when you jumped. Iwaizumi shakes his head with a grin as he places his hand on your waist before effortlessly lifting you and placing you on the bathroom sink.

You continue to brush your teeth as he watches how your eyes would droop every second. You spit out the toothpaste before taking in some water and spitting it out as well. You wiped your mouth before bringing your arms outward. "Am I okay now babe? Hajime- honey I wanna sleep." You beg as he rolls his eyes taking you in his arms, like a bride.

"And what about you mister? Did you brush your teeth?" You teased, taking in the aroma of alcohol he had. He bit his lips trying not to laugh but he shakes his head, answering your question. You let out a gasp of betrayal as you hopped out of his arms grabbing the toothbrush and putting toothpaste on it, but you hear his cackle making you laugh as well, addicted to how it made you join him in an instant.

"Princess, at least put it on the actual brush. Not the other end you dumbie." He states making you look down on your failure of an attempt. You let out an "Oh." and this brought tears to both of your eyes from laughing endlessly.

He gazes at his reflection through the mirror as he takes a deep breath. It felt like if he'd utter a word, his voice would already crack at the resurfaced moment. He scolds himself for having minimal change in a span of two years. He told himself that he shouldn't wallow in the grief but he endured it for days.

There wasn't a clear way for him to move on, especially when you drained him from all functions of his mind. The only thing that interests him to be happy was that he held on to the probability of meeting you again. Even if the chances were slim to none, he'd take anything that there is left just to see you again.

Though it seems like, he'd have to suffer longer just for it to happen.

-

Maybe I'd understand the things that you'd do. You whisper as you take another gulp of alcohol. It was Saturday, your supposed late night sessions with Iwaizumi but instead you were solo for today, and maybe for the rest of the years. You bitterly chuckle to yourself as you didn't bother to answer Oikawas call. Your phone kept going off, receiving dozens of messages and missed calls from the setter. He deeply hated Saturdays, or at least your version of it.

Whether you chose to bottle down every beer you had, or scream and get smothered in mascara stains from crying, or even worse, both. Sometimes you'd even mistaken Oikawa for Iwaizumi, and Oikawa allows it knowing it's a way for you to cope. He hated how far away he was but he strictly told you that if you were ever to pursue yourself to go to the club, he'd drop everything and book a ticket to you immediate, of course this was enough for you to listen especially when you'd feel guilty for wasting his time.

Oikawa knew better than to ask for Iwaizumis help. He remained a bridge for the two of you, knowing he'd encounter to different sides. Iwaizumi had him pick up his belongings in your apartment, denying to step foot in your room. In which brought Oikawa to tears at sight of his best friends past lover in such a disaster of a state. So granting Iwaizumis wish, he stayed.

"Why can't you do it? It's your apartment." Oikawa argued making Iwaizumi grunt in pain as he secretly wipes away the tears in his eyes. He sighs before facing the setter.

"She hates me, Oikawa." He says, staring directly at the boy. Oikawa scoffs but stares at the ground, hands to his side formed in a fist.

Is it that bad? He questions.

"Iwa- what happened?" He asks nervously but Iwaizumi only closes his eyes as he tries to get rid of the screams from the previous night.

"I'll tell you soon. When you see her, maybe you'll understand why I can't do this, why I can't face her. Just please do me one favor." The tone in his voice slowly lessens with the last sentence, making Oikawas heart ache for the two of you. Looking at Iwaizumis eyes, Oikawa could see the way he was holding back, but from what? There was a certain change in his usual stare- he looked lost.

Oikawa sits on the couch as he lets his hand gesture for Iwaizumi to speak. He couldn't say anything else but he hoped that Iwaizumi would take his silence as an answer already. Oikawa would do anything for Iwa, and if he was your other half, and Oikawa will do the same to you.

"Save her."

"From what, Iwa?"

"From what I've done."

Oikawa was impatiently waiting for your response but it seems you've decided to push him aside again. Although he was home, the distance from him to you was troublesome so he insisted to call you instead.

He assumed that last year you've gotten better since you spent you Saturday sleeping instead of drinking, but it progressively got worse.

"I mean, one drink wouldn't hurt right?"

He was dumbfounded when one drink turned into hundreds. He knew it was difficult to continue especially when you and Iwaizumi were having the time of your lives everytime. Whether you were extremely drunk, he knew that you two acted the complete same when you were sober. There wasn't a difference, meaning that's just how love worked between you two.

"Tooru- honey!" You shout as Iwaizumi pouts. It was your 4th anniversary and Oikawa decided to call to greet the lovely couple another successful year of your relationship.

"It's shittykawa to you, babe." Iwaizumi teases making Oikawa rolls his eyes. Through the camera, he sees you above Iwaizumi with arms wrapped around his neck without your chin resting on the boys head as he smiles, content to see that 4 years and love didn't change, not even a bit.

"Disgusting lovebirds, happy anniversary to you both!" Oikawa cheers as you giggle, blowing a kiss to him for greeting you two.

"Thank you Tooru-" your words were cut off by a gasp of realization as you shake Iwaizumi. Hajime takes in your excitement as he shakes his head at your actions.

"Hajime! There's no way you're not making Tooru as your best man- anyway! Tooru! This my official invitation for you to be his best man at our wedding!" Oikawa laughs as he raises his eyebrow to Iwaizumi who had a smirk on his lips.

"Well, I will be overly disappointed if I wasn't chosen. If Iwa-chan declines, I'll be your best man instead Y/N, or if you take my offer, I'll be the groom." He winks to you as you laugh before taking another sip of your drink. Iwaizumi flips off Oikawa and the setter only returns this by poking his tongue out to his best friend.

"So is that right, Iwa-chan? Will you finally bend the knee for the lovely lady?" With Oikawas question, you turn to Iwaizumi as if you were nervous. You bit your lip looking at your boyfriend before he pecks your lips catching you off guard as he looks at you with a smirk.

"I'd be a fool not to." He says making you squeal, as you immediately cover your face in your hands, embarassed by how red you got. Oikawa rolls his eyes, envious at the love you shared. Although, he is joyous that you've made Iwaizumi the happiest man he can be, even if you two weren't married yet, to Oikawa it looks like your relationship will only lead to the altar.

There wasn't a single doubt to that.

"Y/N! I thought you've forgotten how to pick up the phone again." He scolds you but his anger washes away when he sees you with red eyes and sniffling uncontrollably.

"Hajime." She calls out, as Oikawa sighs into his pillow realizing it's another night of him acting as Iwaizumi. He's already heard all the things you wanted to say to the missing boy and he accepted the fact that you'll never have the heart to say it to Iwaizumi himself.

"Why do I miss you, now that you're out of my life?" You cried. Oikawa only rests his chin on the palm of his hand as you continued to pour your sadness upon him. You swing the bottle in your hands before downing another wave of liquor.

"I wanna know what you're doing tonight." You whisper as you take your phone, clicking on Iwaizumis contact but before you could, Oikawa spoke, knowing your next intentions.

"No, not again Y/N." He says but you shake your head your finger threatening to press it already.

"Y/N listen to me, Iwa would have contacted you right now but this isn't the time!" He argued but you scoffed, angry tears brimming in your eyes.

"No! Then when will that time come then! I've been waiting for so fucking long already! It's never gonna happen 'cause he's forgotten me- Fuck!" You shouted, taking Oikawa by surprise as you collapse to the floor once again, Oikawa coming back to the sight of you he wanted to forget.

"Y/N- babe I'm sorry-"

"Enough, Oikawa. If you could've been honest that Hajime's found another, then-then maybe I-" your voice cracks as you stressfully runs your fingers through your hair, gripping it tight in your hands as you let out another doleful sob, breaking Toorus heart.

"I don't know what do anymore." You whispered, your heart shattering in to even more finer pieces. You couldn't even put into words how you've been in torment for years.

It finally dawned on you that you weren't headed to the altar, you were headed in a different path.

Without him.

"Y/N- listen- Iwaizumi-" you ended the call leaving Oikawa stunned as he drops the phone in his hands in frustration and in regret. He decided to visit Iwaizumi, knowing it'd be hard to ever communicate with you again, especially that you've been struck by a wrong thought.

And no one else could handle you the way Hajime would.

"Iwa-chan."

"Oikawa? What is it?"

"I fucked up, I'm sorry."

-

Iwaizumi held his breath as Oikawa explained what happened. He couldn't wrap his head around the unintentional pain Oikawa has given you.

"Iwa, I'm so sorry." Tooru says, making Iwaizumi close his eyes visioning your features crushing at the idea of him having somebody by his side.

Hajimes eyes would never betray you. The only reflection that stayed in his eyes, was the future that was thrown away.

"Oikawa, hey it's okay, I understand." Iwaizumi says with a soft tone to assure Oikawa. Tooru would never intentionally hurt you, he was there to save you. Even if Iwaizumi didn't ask him to take care of you, Oikawa would do everything to bring a smile on your lips. As much love you have to Hajime, its the same amount you have to Oikawa.

"Leaving isn't bad because you're gonna come back with something even better and that's the best version of yourself."

It's your words that he counted on. He believed that he wasn't being selfish, or prideful. You made him believe that finding himself was enough to get him all the medals, the passion, and everything he wanted. So he'd want nothing more than to give thanks to you.

"Iwa."

Oikawa breaks the silence. Iwaizumi looks at him while biting down on his fingers, his heart beating too loudly at the thought of you.

"Why didn't you call her- not even giving her a proper goodbye." Tooru asks with masked anger in his tone. How could he help Hajime when he's blocking him from the truth?

"Iwaizumi. Answer me. For once." Oikawa begs, but once he's met with the silence, he's never been more eager to give in to anger.

"I just- I can't let it happen again, Oikawa. Not to her, not to us."

"Baby, what movie do you want to watch on Saturday? I've seen so many good ones lately." Iwaizumi turns to you with an exhausted expression. You were arranging the condiments in the cabinet, waiting for his response.

"Can't we- reschedule? I-I have something to go to-"

"You can't blow me off for the third time this week, Iwa." You spat, sick of the excuses. Has it really been three times? Iwaizumi questions as he leans on the couch, letting out a sigh. To which is a response you didn't expect to receive.

"I've been busy." He lied, he may not feel it, but there wasn't a single hesitation when he spoke. You memorize his schedules, his after meetings, the excused he's mentioned didn't even bother to make sense. It hurt how he was able to come up so easily, not even thinking about you'd be able to piece them all together.

"Or are you just tired, Iwaizumi?"

You asked rudely. He looks at you before rolling his eyes, covering your heart in bitterness at his pride.

"So what if I am?"

He talked back, hitting you with a bigger wave of emotions. You slammed the door of the cabinet, marching to him each step mixed with rage and pain.

"You're tired? Imagine what I've been feeling, Hajime!" You shout, volume picking up on your tone as this makes Iwaizumi stand up from the couch, not backing down at the power of your voice.

"Clingy? Needy? Pathetic? Tell me, does that sound any different to you?" He said it with so much disgust, strong enough to make you doubt everything you've fought for.

"So you don't give a fuck? Is that what you're so proud of, Iwaizumi? That you're so fucking insensitive?" He felt a tug on his heart when you called him that. It's been so long since he's heard you say it so- normal. As odd as it is, he couldn't hear his name the same again, especially when it came from you.

"Exactly! God I- Y/N. This is why-"

"WHAT IWAIZUMI!"

"This why I'm so fucking tired of you!" He shouted, not only did it create a barrier in your apartment, it brought up your past barrier that he broke down but now he's the cause of it to return.

"You're just- can you even make it on your own without me? It's like if I leave you'd- lose your shit! We need space!" He was fuming with confused anger as you feel your throat give out. You were shaking, your heart was too fast and unsteady, you weren't the same.

"But space is what you've been giving me! Coming home so late? Standing me up? You don't even fucking realize how many dates we missed!" He scoffs before running his fingers through his raven hair. Taking a step towards you, making you stand your ground as you tilt your head to meet with his empty eyes.

This isn't the man who could love you forever and ever after.

"So what! I've got so many things to do apart from dealing with your shit!" You stare back at him, weakened at how your heart couldn't handle it anymore.

You looked down, feeling the sting in your hands when your nails digged into the skin of your palm. He sits down on the couch, drained from the war full of shouting and the damage his heart was in.

Surprisingly, you sat beside him but there was such an intense distance between you.

He turns to you but chills ran up his spine when he sees how you look like you've agreed to everything he's said, making his eyes widen at the foreign feeling.

This is what he was scared of. Failing to find interest in the same routine, to find the energy to continue like he used to. Being worn out by how repetitive things were even when the love you both had was nowhere near boring.

In fact, it was exhilarating. You were both curious to try things together, that's what led you to even owning an apartment together, planning a future, even planning your marriage that was now a blur.

He trembled. Regret, anxiousness, exhaustion. He didn't expect himself to feel this way, especially to you, who he loved completely but felt a certain drift in his heart. He looks away from you as his eyes trail on the picture of you two. He couldn't hold it in his hands to look at how happy he looked, because he isn't the same anymore.

He's lost his way.

"D-did I..lack something?" She asks quietly. He gulps at her question. It was so heavy to him. How you asked him, questioning yourself in this relationship. With anxious hands, he wanted to reach out for you but his efforts were surpassed when he felt a wall between you and him.

"Am I worth.. to keep?"

Please, baby. He begs in his mind for you to stop. He couldn't register how he couldn't make himself speak. He was holding back too much, terrified that he was going to break you more and more with every word he'd toss to you.

"Then this is pointless isn't it?"

You both look at each other, both met with different expressions in your eyes. Iwaizumi could see how tired you were, how he knew you wouldn't be able to look at him the same way before, since he gave up first. While you can see how there wasn't a single lie in his eyes, the downfall was upon you.

No matter the space you give him, there can never be a spark to bring him back.

He bit his lip, facing the truth. Even he knew there isn't any other way.

"I know what you're gonna say, Hajime."

"Princess.. I'm sorry"

"Just go." It was impossible for him to follow your orders when all he wishes is to stay but then again, he's run out of reasons to.

"You gave up, Iwa!" Oikawa shouts, standing up to the boy. Iwaizumi lets his eyes wonder on the floor because he said nothing but the truth.

"There isn't anything I can-"

He's heard enough. You've asked Oikawa many heartbreaking questions. They were all unanswerable, and it pained him he couldn't give you at least one. He was in pain as much as you were. He hated how stupid Iwaizumi was for leaving you and choosing to cower away. He hated how you blamed yourself and slashing your heart because of Iwaizumi.

The tension has set fire to Oikawa and with years of loyalty between the two, Oikawa throws a heavy punch to Iwaizumi, disgusted of his actions.

Iwaizumi, completely at shocked at Oikawas punch, steps back a few times before his blood dropped on his fingers. Oikawa walks straight to Iwaizumi capturing his collar and pulling the boy upwards, nothing but rage consuming the setter.

"Did you love her then? Don't tell me this bullshit that you can't go back to her. Do you even wanna know what she asks me?" Iwaizumi removes Oikawas hands from his shirt, crumpling it in the process. Oikawa lets out a sarcastic laugh as he looks at Hajime.

"Ah, so you know how much shit you put her through? Then maybe you are an asshole but god- Iwa she loves you so much. If that isn't a good enough reason for you to talk to her, then I'll find somebody else for her." Oikawa threatens as Iwaizumi lets out a sob, nothing but regret that he hurt two of the most important people on his life.

"But what if it happens again?"

Iwaizumi asks, it was the only thing that held him back for returning into your arms. He isn't stable enough to return when the fear lingers in his head. What if he falls out of love? What if he gets tired again? Then you'll never want his presence again. He couldn't master up the courage because he too was scared of it.

He will not go through dozens of years just to be apart from you. He's already lost his mind to see you and Oikawa face the tragedy that he left you with. He felt nauseated with himself. How can he promise you forever when it was out of his grasp?

"Why don't you find out?"

It was a simple sentence that left Oikawas lips yet it brought Hajime to tears. It would've been that easy. If he didn't stay with his demons, then maybe you were here to offset his heart. After 2 years, isn't it too late to realize that he's never really ran out of love? It strengthened, but he was so afraid of battling with you like you did, hating how he was the man who shattered your overall being.

"Thank you, Oikawa."

He whispers as Oikawa takes a seat beside him, smiling that he brought the boy to realize the amount of time he's wasted by being surrounded by doubt. Oikawa pats the boys shoulder, sighing in relief that Iwaizumi was back.

"Always."

-

You swore to avoid your phone the entire day. As much as you wanted to apologize to Oikawa for the outburst, you just wanted a day of silence since your thoughts never give you the chance. Not only did you promise to avoid technology, you decided to avoid people as well, promising to yourself you'd rather stay inside in order to avoid the envy you had for other couples.

So here you are, tucked in your jacket, wrapped in your blanket waking up from a 4 hour nap. You yawned before squinting when you open your phone. It's 8pm and your stomach was nowhere near happy. Slowly standing up, you make your way to the kitchen opening the fridge seeing absolutely no hope to make a meal. Sighing lazily, you decided it'd be best to just buy some food.

After getting ready, you step out of your apartment as you drive to the place where you usually order. You admired how the moon lit your way. Opening your windows you smile when the cold whiff of air instantly surrounded your car. You loved the way your hair flew in the wind while you listened to the song playing.

Once you've finished your bought dinner, you decided to take a turn in your path. Now that it was late at night, you couldn't resist to visit a place you've been missing.

You take in a deep breath as you leaned on the metal bar, loving the way the view still took your breath away. You were face to face with the nightlights and the busy town below you. Not only was it stunning but it was a place to recall some of your favorite moments with him now that you were out of your comfortless of an apartment.

"Sorry for being late, Oikawa was an ass." Iwaizumi excuses himself as he stood beside you leaning on the rod, smiling once he takes in the lights. He turns to you before removing his jacket and placing it on your shoulders, a sweet gesture that had you blushing every time.

You couldn't refuse knowing he would've scolded you. Instead, you stood closer to him before leaning your head on his arm. With his hand, he interlaced his fingers with yours, as your heart flutters. He takes in your hand, placing a gentle kiss on it as you did the same with his hand making him twirl you in satisfaction. You giggle before landing on his chest as he leans down and places his warm hands to your cheeks as he leans in to take your lips with his.

You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, reciprocating his kiss. He's given you hundreds of kisses before, how is this any different than the rest?

He pulls away, as your foreheads touch as you both painted a smile on your lips, feeling a slight tickle to it with how flustered you both were.

"I love you so much." He whispers, the first time he's ever let the three words slip from his mouth. Your hands make their way his hair, grabbing it lightly before nodding happily.

"I love you more, my Hajime."

Who knew that just by saying those three words, it was enough for you to believe in an ever after with him? Maybe you were wrong to fall for it even though he gave you a fragment of your so called forever.

You glanced beside you to see a vacant spot and you let out a disappointed sigh. You take in the sight of your fingers, missing the way it perfectly fit in his and how he held it with so much care, giving you an idea that he'd never let you go. Unfortunately he broke this bond but you still longed for his skin to be at contact with yours again.

You sat down placing your hand on the bench as you close your eyes leaning your back on it. You felt a shift of weight beside you, someone finally accompanying you in this lonely night but you've caught on the familiar scent of the stranger and you let the name slid off your tongue.

"Hajime."

He turns to you in shock that you knew it was him but you open your eyes, turning your head to be faced with the man you've been longing to see in two years. He looked the same, the same face who clouded your dreams. He was certainly your Hajime, the pretty boy you've adored since you were in high school.

Happy anniversary. You silently greet each other. How bittersweet, isn't it? What was meant to be your 6th year, turned into 2 years of avoiding each other.

And as you took in Iwaizumis appearance, he did the same with you. Loving the way your features clicked in his memory instantly. Was it even possible for you to be even more beautiful? To Iwaizumi, it was. He absolutely missed you, but why was his heart nervous?

What do I do? He asks himself. Small talk isn't what you deserved. God- you deserve so much more. Endless hours of talking, his embrace, his love, that's what you missed. He was willing to love you with everything he's got, now knowing he'll never run out of it because he isn't scared anymore.

"This isn't a dream is it?" You asked as you turn back to the sky counting the stars that was above you. He was glad you broke the silence, and he appreciated how there wasn't the same tension before. It felt so- serene and unique. Something he wishes it'd be a good sign for the both of you.

"I can't believe it either." He exclaims making you smile. You couldn't ask him how he's doing, not wanting to drag on a conversation you've waited years for to happen, you couldn't let it be bland and meaningless.

"We were something weren't we?" You asked with a soft smile. Iwaizumi chuckles beside you, as he sits closer to you. The cold air swirling around you two as well as the car noised filling in the comforting silence.

"God, I miss what that's like." Iwaizumi answers as you look at him. You looked down on the floor with tears appearing again, the same as Iwaizumi. You were both craving to hold each other but it didn't sit right to just rush into each other knowing there's so much to unpack.

Maybe it was a bit unexpected that you'd face him this way. Echoing through your ears was the conversation between you and Tooru about how the time never came. Now, you weren't even close to being prepared. You both imagined a proper conversation wherein you two would agree to meet up and talk things out. Yet subconsciously, you came to the same place at the same time not even knowing you'd meet. You lacked strength to bundle the words that you've always wanted to say to him and he felt the same way.

The last time you sat next to each other, that was when you parted. Now, back in the same position, it felt overwhelming. Seeing each other for the first time, both had you shocked and careful of your words. You wanted to scream how much you loved him, and he wanted to hold you in his arms to wash away the bleeding of your heart.

You loved how the universe made you two meet. It was quite painful that it had to be the place where you've shared so many memories with him. You didn't know if this was a blessing in disguise but you couldn't complain when the love of your life was here, beside you.

When he saw you, he felt like the sun shined above him like it did every morning. Where he had an angel to wake up next to, when he couldn't spot a single imperfection in your skin when the sun danced in your beauty.

And you've finally remembered the way his touch would bring you the assurance without words. His unexpected kisses, his sweet embrace, his smile that makes your heart run a marathon.

You're finally here. You both think, your hearts synced in how you've waited for this moment.

With your hand on the bench, he places his hand on top of yours, feeling like it was too fragile to hold but you didn't pull away. He takes in your features in the moonlight as his heart picks up the pace at the feeling that washes over him.

There isn't a barrier anymore.

Having the chance to hold your hand like this, he'll never take this for granted again. His everything, back in his touch, god how lucky he was. Remembering Oikawas words, one thing was clear to Iwaizumi, and that was the fact that he couldn't afford to have another hiccup in your relationship.

"We really fucked up this time." Iwaizumi comments making the both of you chuckle as he intertwines your hands with his, smiles on either your faces now that you've finally found the path to each other.