#he has a truly impressive collection of hoodies - I love them

[hvseoks]

Get up! (new!) Get up! (run!)

[vantemania]

Blossoming

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➤ Genre: Fluff, crack

➤ Pairing: Jungkook x Y/N

➤ Word count: 1.1k

➤ A/N: This is just a super fluffy nervous Jungkook drabble I couldn't help thinking of the first time I saw him in that fit. It's pre-date btw! Imagine in the second gif he's got that date on his mind~ all cute & overthinking things 💛 ALSO, I have to say — when I chose the ahem... combination of the outfit Taehyung picks, I had no idea Tae had truly put those things together before irl... (& made it look amazing ofc)

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"No one told me it would be this hard!" Dragging his hands down his face, Jungkook stared at his wardrobe with pure resentment. Everyone was always commenting on how 'boyfriend' he dressed, so why the fuck couldn't he figure out what to wear for a date?

Jungkook cast a longing look at his oversized T-shirts and collection of hoodies; he'd return to them soon. But for tonight, he needed something more... refined.

Earlier in the week, Jungkook had finally worked up the courage to ask you on a date. He'd been pining after you ever since you tripped over your own feet and spilled the contents of your bag, revealing anime keychains and video game themed pens. When he returned your Mario pen to you and you smiled in embarrassment, uttering a quiet thank you — he knew he wanted to be the reason you smiled from then on, and he needed to know what the sound of your laughter was like. It wasn't love at first sight, but he certainly felt something bloom in his chest.

The door to Jungkook's room inched open silently. Taehyung peeked in, taking in the scene before him. It appeared as though Jungkook's entire wardrobe was scattered about his room. Taehyung had experienced the maknae's indecision on an outfit before, but he'd never seen it this bad. Glancing at Jungkook, Taehyung noticed his hands were covering his face. He was still oblivious to Taehyung's presence. The boy seemed to be going through a crisis already, so Taehyung decided to be nice and spook him as little as possible.

With a tiny knock on the open door, Taehyung broke Jungkook out of his mental monologue. "Uh... I heard shouting and things crashing so I... came to check on you."

At the sound of his hyung's voice, Jungkook startled, his hands dropping from his face immediately. Taehyung snickered at the look of bewilderment mixed with something else... desperation? On Jungkook's face. "Looks like you could use some help?"

Hope dawned on the maknae's face, previously distraught eyes now sparkling. "Please? I don't have anything to wear," he whined.

With a tilt of his head, Taehyung smirked at the pleading look on Jungkook's face. "I'm sure I have a thing or two I could lend you for the night."

»»---------------------►

Jungkook checked himself out in the full length mirror in the hallway — he was never convinced it was a necessary component in the apartment before, but Jin had insisted on it, saying no home was complete without a full length mirror, and how else was he supposed to see just how handsome he looked that day?

Today, however, Jungkook was thankful. He fluffed his hair one more time — just to shake it out of his eyes — before taking a deep breath and heading down the hallway. Exhaling, he closed his eyes momentarily, a grin forming on his face. He was finally going to see you outside of class. Nervous didn't even begin to explain how he felt right then. Giddy, excited, antsy, terrified? He hoped you wouldn't think he was weird. All signs so far had pointed to you not hating him — hell, he'd take what he could get, just to see you smile was enough for him. With this on his mind, Jungkook bounded into the living room, a spring in his step.

Namjoon, who was lounging on the sofa watching TV, took one look at the boy who was practically vibrating with nerves and glee. "Jungkook." He muted the TV. "Come here for a second."

Halting mid-step, Jungkook obeyed, curious as to what his hyung wanted to say. Maybe he'd offer some sage advice? Or wish him good luck?

"Yes Namjoon hyung?" He answered, stepping in front of Namjoon's seated figure.

The older boy took a moment to scan Jungkook from head to toe. "You're going on a date?”

"Yes~" Jungkook beamed, a bright toothy smile enveloping his face.

"It's the first date, right?" Namjoon asked, quirking his brow. His eyes landed on one target. No, two.

Under his intense gaze, Jungkook shifted his feet. "Yes," he answered again, starting to feel his anxiety from earlier returning.

Namjoon took a deep breath. He considered how lucky the boys were to have a hyung like him to guide them. "I would reconsider that outfit."

Jungkook froze. "Wh- but why hyung?" He looked at himself, suddenly self conscious. He really thought he and Taehyung had come up with a solid first date look.

It took everything in Namjoon to not just deadpan his response. Namjoon settled on sighing instead. "Taehyung helped you, didn't he?"

"Ah... he did. Why?" Jungkook shifted back and forth on his feet, fingers fiddling with one another.

With a chuckle under his breath, Namjoon shook his head. Of course. "Jungkook. I admire Taehyung's sense of style most days, but you can't go on your first date wearing Gucci slippers and plaid pants."

»»---------------------►

Returning from his room, Jungkook crossed the hallway to Namjoon's room — where he had migrated to after trying to save Jungkook from making the mistake of being too..? Eccentric. For his first date with you. Impressions were everything, after all.

Namjoon glanced away from his computer's monitor as the younger boy entered. "There, now doesn't that feel so much better?" he asked, appraising the new and improved outfit.

Adjusting the sleeves on his yellow button-up, Jungkook grinned. "Do you really think she'll like this, hyung?"

Namjoon gave him a once over. "Well, if she has any taste, she will," he said.

The grin on Jungkook's face widened, crinkling his eyes. "I guess I'm about to find out," he replied, checking his watch.

"Go get 'em kid," Namjoon said, regarding the maknae leaving his room with a fondness in his eyes.

Jungkook reached the front door, after patting himself down to make sure he didn't forget anything. Phone, wallet, keys... He should be good.

His phone buzzed right after he patted his pocket to check it — a text from you saying you were on your way to meet him. A shy smile tugged at his lips.

Jungkook quickly texted you an answer before pocketing his phone and opening the door to his home. With one look over his shoulder before leaving, he adjusted the sleeves to his shirt once more and grinned.

"Let's get it."

[funtimebunnyblog]

Let's all raise a glass to you, Surey! 🥰😇❤ Please enjoy!

The Pillarmen go out to a Bar with you! 🍻

(Under the cut for length...)

Kars:

• Kars isn't really a person to go out to drink.

• If anything, he prefers to enjoy a drink or two at Home and unwind with a book or in a bath.

• However, if you want to take him out on the town he doesn't refuse you, even though he's not the biggest fan of bars or nightclubs and the crowds of people that come with it.

• If this was something that made you happy, than he supposed it would all be worthwhile to let you enjoy yourself.

• When going out to a bar or a club, those are the nights he dons his dark coat and hat (despite how you may plan to dress for the evening) and walks arm in arm with you down the street to the place of your choice.

• You better had pick a good one because he's not a man to hop from place to place in one night. He makes it very clear that it's here and then Home.

• The majority of the night he prefers to sit quietly at the bar or at a booth in the far corner, silently nursing a glass of vodka or red wine.

• He'll let you dance and socialize and enjoy yourself all you want but don't expect him to do the same.

• Kars will also monitor how much you're drinking and don't think he won't cut you off if he's deemed you've had enough.

• For your safety, he keeps his eyes on you at all times as he doesn't exactly trust these kinds of establishments and he knows how truly disgusting Humans can be if given the chance.

• It's no surprise he has absolutely no tolerance for riff raff or drunks should they happen to be around.

• Anyone who's sober (or anyone with a brain for that matter) wouldn't dare to bother him, simply by the powerful and inhuman aura he emits just sitting there.

• Once on a night out, a drunk man who was entertaining himself by going around and poking people made the mistake of staggering up to Kars where he sat, reaching out and tapping him right on the nose.

• Surprisingly very calm about it, Kars watched him stumble away laughing with little more than a glare before rising to his feet. The song had suddenly changed in that moment and couples were dancing to some upbeat music, Kars left his glass behind at the bar and approached you on the dance floor.

• It shocked you to say the least when Kars approached and took your hand and asked for a dance to which you happily obliged.

• This was a little odd for Kars to want to dance in public but you didn't think to question it.

• As the dance floor crowded and people danced away the drunk man made his rounds again, laughing as he went around and tapped people on the nose, pinched their cheek or flicked them on the chin. Kars had his eyes set on him the entire time he danced, waiting with all the patience in the world.

• The unsuspecting man passed bye Kars one more time and the altercation was fast. Very fast. So very momentary even you didn't see it happen.

• Kars spun you around with one hand and with the other he curled his fist and punched the drunk man straight under his chin, knocking him to the floor, completely unconscious.

• Kars continued to dance with you like nothing at all happened as people suddenly took notice, crowding around the floored drunk questioningly.

• "Hmm," Kars peered over his shoulder, lips pursed and the very definition of unbothered. Not a soul (not even you) suspected a thing. "It would seem he's had too much to drink."

• In Kars' opinion, that was more merciful than the man deserved.

• On the nights where you're drunk, you can bet that he's grumbling the entirety of the time dragging you Home.

• Listening to you giggle and chatter on without a care in the world, slurring your words and relying on him to keep upright might've warmed his heart if he wasn't aware of the complete mess you would be in the morning.

• Kars isn't one to baby you when you're hungover either.

• You did this to yourself and he did warn you not to drink so much afterall.

• But he's not cruel to you when you're hungover. He'll smoothe your hair and rub your back if you happen to get sick. He'll also make you drink plenty of water and he'll let you rest as long as you need to.

• As long as you had fun and keep enjoying these little nights out he doesn't mind all the displeasing parts that come with it. Your happiness is truly what matters to him in the end.

Esidisi:

• Quite the opposite of Kars, Esidisi LOVES going out on the town for a couple of drinks with you.

• In fact, he's got a number of favourite places around to pick but he'll always ask you for your approval when making the decision.

• Chances are, when you and him are such frequent Bar goers together, EVERYONE at your favourite spots will know you!

• Esidisi sometimes likes to go the extra mile for the occasion and throw on something sexy but still casual. Long sleeved, colourful shirts halfway unbuttoned and some jewelry always does the trick for him.

• The most memorable nights for you both is when there's a new place opened up in town and the two of you go to check it out, meet some new people and maybe dance a little.

• It's probably safe to say that Esidisi's favourite thing to do is mess with any drunks that happen to be around.

• He'll sit at the bar as you drink and socialize with some of your friends, surrounded by a bunch of tipsy Humans, using his powers to do the oddest tricks for money.

• The crowd goes absolutely wild no matter how many times they see him make a glass of cold beer boil using just his hand.

• Chances are, Esidisi might end up being more drunk than you the majority of these nights because of his entertaining nature.

• "You can't possibly drink that whole glass in one go." The Bartender frowned at the Pillarman skeptically after he had made that outrageous claim. "It's not possible."

• Esidisi could only grin at him as he put the glass to his lips. Without another word he threw back his head, sucking down the cold, inky Beer in one massive gulp; foam and all.

• The Bartender (now not so skeptical) and the man sitting to Esidisi's left, who had been nursing his 2nd glass of the same stuff for about 10 minutes now, could only stare at him, awestruck.

• "Aw Hell," he gaped. "I'd pay 20$ to see that again!"

• 20$ was put down and another glass gone within seconds; just the same as the first. A crowd began to draw around the bar and the massive man seated there.

• 40$, 80$, 150$, 300$ bets were laid out on the counter and Esidisi rightfully collected ALL of it as he just kept drinking, each glass gone in a single gulp.

• Needless to say, you're gonna be screwed if you're drunk yourself on nights like that because stuffing a Pillarman whose drank his body weight in alcohol into a Cab to try and get him Home isn't an easy job.

• Most especially when said drunkard Pillarman keeps insisting he's NOT drunk, whines he doesn't wanna go Home yet and keeps trying to go back inside.

• When Esidisi is hungover the next day it's not a treat either. Be prepared for WHINING.

• However, if you happen to be the hungover one he's probably one of the best caregivers you could ask for.

• He'll chuckle as he gives you some ibuprofen and water, telling you all about the great time you both had (if you happen to have forgotten) and how you took your drinks like an absolute champ.

• Needless to say, he's always down for a night out at a bar with you.

Wamuu:

• Admittedly, Wamuu was a little on the inexperienced side when it came down to drinking or going to places like bars.

• Overtime with you however, he grows more accustomed to the concept of both.

• When you take him out to a bar for a couple of drinks he doesn't really dress up for the occasion unless you tell him to. He prefers to just put on a clean white T-shirt, sweatpants and maybe a hoodie.

• You'll have to order his drink for him on the first few nights out together because he honestly doesn't know what he likes or what to have.

• The variety of alcohol (let alone the amount of brands under a single kind) was a little overwhelming to him.

• "--and what will you have?" "Um... beer?" "What kind, sir?" "..... um.... beer?"

• He's happy to let you drink and socialize if you wish to but he'll be a little lost if you leave him alone at the bar with his drink and a bunch of strangers to go to the washroom.

• Surprisingly however, it isn't hard for him to make some friends when that happens.

• With nothing else to do, he'll be watching whatever sports game is happening on one of the many TV's as he sips away at his drink.

• The game doesn't really interest him (he doesn't even understand the point of it) but he picks up on the habit of cheering when other people in the bar cheer and celebrate for their team.

• Because of that, other men and sportsfans alike will just flock to Wamuu under the impression he's a fellow sportsfanatic (or maybe even a sports player himself due to his massive size).

• By the time you come back, he's surrounded by a gaggle of sportsfans all cheering and highfiving Wamuu, patting him on the back, punching his shoulder and offering him plenty more to drink.

• He just shrugs at you when he catches your confused gaze from across the bar as he's not really sure what's going on either.

• Though he's content to let you drink and enjoy yourself, he knows very well when you've had quite enough to drink. He will straight up pick you up and carry you Home if need be.

• "Kisssh me, Wammmmuu." You half-giggled, sluggishly trying to pull yourself more upright to give his absolutely delectable looking lips the smooching you so wanted to as he closed the door of your apartment behind him.

• The Warrior sighed, patting your head. "Oh beloved, I am most honored you want to but you're drunk, it's not right..." he told you gently, carrying you all the way to your bedroom to lay you down despite any protests you might make.

• After giving you plenty of water and tucking you in (you at least get a goodnight kiss on the head), he'll keep an eye on you until the morning and ensure all your needs are met when you're hungover.

• If you ask him, he'll admit that he had fun and has no objections to going out again next weekend.

Santana:

• Much like Kars, Santana isn't exactly the biggest fan of noises or crowds of Humans in one settlement.

• Be prepared for him to crinkle his nose at the thought of going to a bar or a club where all of that happens under one roof.

• After some coaxing however, he'll agree but mostly for your sake.

• He wants to see you happy and he knows that nights out for some fun and social interaction was healthy for Humans.

• Besides, he also saw this as an opportunity to study Humans and try to understand their behavior a little better.

• Santana will throw on some street clothes and follow you wherever you want to go that night; whether its near or far, big or small.

• When going to a bar he's more interested in the food there rather than the drink.

• In fact; you'll come to find that he LOVES Bar food.

• The waitress will barely turn her back for a second before the basket of nachos she just delivered him has suddenly ceased to exist and he's asking for more.

• With an appetite like that, the Bar staff asks him if he wants to try their challenge of eating a HUGE meal under a set amount of time. If he wins he gets the meal free and all the drinks you order tonight free, his next meal here free and his picture on the Bars wall of fame.

• He only agrees to the challenge because he likes the sound of free food.

• The food comes and Santana makes it on the wall of fame easily in record time. The Owner of the place is absolutely gobsmacked with the fact that Santana scarfed down an ENTIRE 10 pound burger in less than 2 minutes.

• Santana will stare at the menu of drinks for the longest time, mouthing out the names of drinks and brands curiously. He'll want you to explain him what everything is but he honestly won't know what he'll like.

• He absolutely doesn't like beer. Not at all.

• The first sip of the first glass given to him was promptly spit out. Santana's mouth twisted into a bitter knot, pushing the glass FAR away and shaking his head frantically to try and rid of the disgusting yeasty film left on his tongue.

• You'll have to order him something more appealing in taste if you want him to drink at all.

• You'll find that he comes to enjoy a more sweet and fruity tropical drink like a Piña colada.

• "How is it?" You ask, a smile tugging at your mouth when you notice a little gleam in his eye as he put the colourful drink to his lips. He definitely looked less miserable than he had a moment ago.

• "Hmm," a little pink tongue darted out to swipe along his upper lip, his thumb fiddling with the tiny umbrella sitting on the ridge of the glass. "sweet. Pleasing."

• Because of his newfound love for the sweet tropical tasting booze you might have to monitor how much he has to be on the safe side as you weren't sure whether Santana would handle intoxication well.

• However, if you decide to let go and have one too many Santana will put his arm around you and firmly tell you it's time to go Home.

• He doesn't really know the first thing about the care and feeding of a hungover Human but he'll do anything you ask of him.

• You need water? He's got two bottles ready for you. Head hurt? He'll sprint to the store for Ibuprofen for you. The sunlight in the window bothering you? He'll cover that window using his own body if he has to.

• You might just be surprised when he asks you if you and him could go to another bar soon for more good food and a couple more drinks...

[heyitsyn]

Keeping Up With Seijoh Ep. 4

a/n: uwuwuwuwu @animesportboys​ and i were just talking about this and my heart was just bursting at this thought 😭

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

also requests are currently closed right now since i have like nearly 30 to finish so please be patient with me and wait for me to finish it all and until then i can open them up again. however, dont stop sending me cute stuff okay?  🥺

summary: its the time of the month for seijoh’s manager 🥺

@ yn when shes extra moody and mean during that time and does this every time she hears anything even come out of the boys’ mouth

oh dear

so basically

it’s,,,,,, a natural thing that most girls go through every month for more than half of their lives and its absolutely D R E A D F U L

the boys ofc knew what the hell a period was bc hello health class so they knew you would become this,,, other version of yourself

youd be moodier, childish, and easy to annoy and snap to everyone

but you would quickly realize how you’re acting then be all regretful and teary and cry easily and then youd forget about it then start the cycle again

you’d stick your tongue out at them and tease them mercilessly, making them run even more laps and pushing them harder

‘I SEE THOSE ARMS SHAKING, IWAIZUMI HAJIME. ADD 15 MORE TO THAT ROUTINE’

‘WHAT?!’

‘IF I SEE YOU EVEN A STEP BEHIND KINDAICHI, YOU WILL BE RUNNING 8 MORE LAPS KUNIMI’

‘NOO!!!!’

‘CHECK YOURSELF OUT ONE MORE TIME, YAHABA, I WILL GOUGE OUT YOUR EYES’

‘HAVE MERCY!!!!’

dear god they hated it

when it was time, they would protect themselves and work even harder and be more perfect to make sure you couldnt see their faults and point them out and try and kill them

it was like war for everyone

but they didnt know the exact date it started so they didnt really know when to start preparing for war until it came

this time, you didnt either

you didnt even know you were starting as you were extra busy booking the buses for away comps and collecting and emailing teachers for any missed homeworks for the team

so when it did start,,,

oh dear part 2

it wasnt really something you found out when you woke up that morning but you noticed you must be getting close since you were feeling extra cranky and you havent even been awake for more than an hour

nothing really happened throughout the day so you were just thinking that you didnt get enough sleep last night so you were just tired and wanted to sleep

but then it happened

you were standing next to iwa, reviewing his spike percentages when you shifted your weight to the other leg and then your eyes widened

your water broke

i saw this tiktok of this one girl and she was about to start filming with her friend when her eyes widened and her friend knew immediately and her caption was ‘my water broke’

iwa was worried as heck on to what was going on with you and even followed your gaze to see it on the wall and nothing out of the ordinary

‘y/n?’

‘oh god’

you mumbled and you wanted to run but you were too scared that you leaked and probably have an obvious redness on your white track pants

yep it def was your time bc you felt tears welling up in your eyes and you sniffled, embarrassed and upset for this to happen now, of all times

then oikawa tooru bursted through the doors

iwa, taking his eyes off of you and to the captain, started to yell at him until he noticed the brunette’s flushed face and panting form, hunched over as he gripped on the door handle with the plastic bag

you, too busy trying to think of a way to get out of there like deciding to waddle or to just crawl, didnt see oikawa as he approached you

the team paused and watched as he took a black hoodie from the plastic bag and wrapped it around your waist

‘hmm, y/n-chan, better get dressed so we can go now’

he hummed and you snapped out of your panic and looked up at him with watery eyes

‘oikawa-san’

you whispered and he nodded, eyes knowing what was going on

‘coach, theres a planetarium special tonight’

oikawa shouted without tearing his gaze away from you and coach irihata instantly knew, knowing the code that oikawa came up with when you became a part of the family team

the elder coach made a noise of agreement and oikawa didnt wait to up and carry you in his arms and waved to the team while pushing your head in his chest so you can hide

‘work hard everyone!’

‘oi, shittykawa! what the hell-!’

but an intense side-eye from his best friend shut him up and he knew something happened so he didnt say anything since he trusts oikawa to fix it

‘i trust you will take care of them, iwa-chan’

iwaizumi nodded firmly before shouting to resume back to practice and he himself went back to the line for spikes

you were carried to the bathroom so you could change into your emergency undies and pad and after you did your business, oikawa noticed you uncomfortably waddling towards him so he took you back into his arms

oikawa continued to carry you like his bride down the street towards an unknown destination, humming a children’s show tune that takeru loved to watch, while you maintained curled around yourself, partly due to the shame but also from the pain in your abdomen

you wiped the few stray tears that spilled past your eyes and oikawa chuckled when he noticed you aggressively wipe them off

‘hmm, y/n-chan, you shouldnt do that to yourself. it irritates your eyes and the skin around it so gently dab it next time, kay?’

you nodded, burrowing back to his chest and breathing in his scent

french toast

he smelled like french toast as the smell of caramel and vanilla wafted into your nose

‘howd you know’

you mumbled against the fabric of his jacket

oikawa stopped his humming and replaced it with a chuckle

‘oh, y/n-chan. oikawa-san is a reliable senpai, dont you know? i got a tracker! just for you!’

he answered and your eyes moved from his arm to his smile and you gripped his jacket tighter, fingers curled around it as if it was your lifeline

‘thank you, oikawa-san’

your words of appreciation made oikawa’s heart thump and he faltered a little, blush creeping up his neck, but he fought it down, covering it up with a smirk

‘you should be, y/n-chan! girls would kill to be you right now!’

you rolled your eyes at the return of his cocky attitude but you knew better

the real oikawa tooru was under that mask

turns out, he carried you to his home as his house was the closest while yours had to be taken by a bus

thankfully his parents were out and his sister and nephew were in a trip in tokyo that you had the house to yourselves without anyone asking questions that might make you uncomfortable and them misunderstand

he shut the door with his foot and made his way up the stairs with ease, his strength truly impressing you at that moment, before settling you down on his bed

it wasnt even on purpose but you curled yourself on his blanket, head buried in his pillow

his heart combusted and tooru had to look away or else he wouldve jumped on you and coddled you forever

instead, he quickly ran over and knelt down under his desk to reach for the box that he has prepared for you

‘y/n-chan, i never knew your pattern until last month so i was able to prepare for you now’

you looked up from your position on the bed and sat up enough to see him standing there, grinning with a mint green box

‘wh-what is that?’

you asked and he shuffled over, sitting next to you

‘this, is the y/n care love box! this special box was created by yours truly with everything you want and need during this dreadful week. theres your favorite food, warm socks, coupons you can spend like watching movies and eating ten tubs of ice cream while we talk shit about the boys’

he listed, gripping the box nervously 

‘so? do you like it?’

he looked away from the box and to you but his smile slipped into a panicked one when he saw you silently crying and biting your lip to keep the sobs in

‘y-y/n-chan! i-its okay if y-you dont like it! o-oikawa-san can-’

‘no!’

you cut him off and lunged to hug him with all your might

hehe all might

E A T   T H I S

‘i love you so much, oikawa-san! so much! thank you!’

you sobbed into his neck and he tightly hugged you back, lifting you so you could comfortably sit on his lap straddle him if you want me to be straight forward

oikawa gently moved so he was leaning against the wall that his bed was pressed against while you were pressed against his warmth

his fingers were drawing small circles on your back and whispering corny jokes or puns that made you giggle and laugh and occassionally, he would kiss your nose and you would whine at the ticklish feeling

eyes fleeting around the room, your eyes settled back on the box and you reached out, wanting to grab it until oikawa beat you to it and snatched it for you then placed it on your hold

‘whats inside, oikawa-san?’

you cutely mumbled, sitting comfortably back on his thighs so you could open the box in front of you

oikawa laughed

‘just open it and figure it out yourself, y/n-chan’

you pouted at his tease but smiled widely when you revealed the contents inside

‘oikawa-san!’

his eyes followed your surprised expression and his hands gripped your waist

‘you like it?’

he whispered and you nodded, looking back up at him and kissing his cheek, his 

‘youre so sweet, oikawa-san! like-like this candy bar! howd you know i like this?’

you held up the treat and he shrugged

‘i keep seeing you get it whenever we go to the store’

you continued to sift through the things, seeing a dvd of your favorite movie, a f/c heating pad, a note that said your favorite ice cream was in the fridge, a bag of your favorite chips, fluffy socks, the goodies

you didnt even notice yourself crying again, only realizing it when there were wet spots beneath you

oikawa saw this and he quickly but gently put the box to the side and cradled your face with both of his hands, softly wiping the tears away with his thumbs

‘aw, dont cry, my little baby. princesses should never cry’

you sniffled and choked a laugh

‘hah, n-not a baby. j-just hor-monal’

you complained and oikawa snickered but shook his head then kissed your nose again

‘youre my baby’

you didnt have it in you to complain so you went back to snuggling into him

oikawa squeezed you and went back to drawing the circles on your back and he felt you relax into his touch and slump against his form, slowly starting to snore

your head rested on his shoulder and he turned slightly to watch your eyes flutter and nose scrunch when a strand of your hair fell on it

his heart continued to beat faster and faster and it showed by the way his fingers shook as he carefully lifted the hair away from you

he slowly bent down to give you a kiss on the forehead before laying you down to sleep more comfortably

‘good night, princess’

he sweetly placed a last kiss on your cheek before getting up to go prepare your heating pad for when you wake up

the next few days were possibly the best period days youve ever had

maybe because it was oikawa telling the team that you were in,,,,, satan’s domain currently and they should be careful with you so they tried their best to lift the weight and burden off of your shoulders

however,,

the next day after the incident,,,

they still didnt know what was wrong with you and oikawa forgot to text the gc about your condition so they were still unknowing

like today

during your classes, you were feeling off, almost nauseous but eating little bits of your chocolate treats were helping you get through until lunch

ofc kunimi noticed bc hellow he sits next to you and he doesnt pay attention during class so hes been watching you sneak little bites so the teacher doesnt see and ducking under your book

he was just amused with the way your eyes would widen if you thought the teacher caught you

kindaichi and kunimi and you usually ate lunch together at your classroom since you three only got to hang out as first years during lunch

so they know you usually have a bento with you and have a general idea of how much you eat

and kunimi thought since you ate all those chocolates earlier, you wouldnt eat as much food but then he saw you scarf down your bento, eat 2 more bags of chips and was finishing last chocolate bar

kindaichi,,,, wasnt even finished with his own bento and was watching you, amazed, at how easily you ate all of it

they didnt say anything since they thought you just didnt eat dinner last night but even during the walk towards the gym for after school practice, you were complaining that you were hungry and was eating another chocolate bar

they thought something was truly wrong bc you were eating so much more than usual

kunimi watched you chew on it as you opened the gym door and still ate even when you were talking to mattsun about his jump height

‘man, you sure are hungry, aren’t you, y/n? thats like your fifth chocolate bar today’

kunimi teased, grabbing a ball to spike but he froze, seeing you with the coldest and angriest look hes ever seen

you blinked at him, grip tightening on the treat, and mattsun slowly backing away from you

you advanced towards the blep boy, treat already forgotten and shoved to be held by mattsun 

despite your shorter height than kunimi, he trembled slightly as you looked up at him

‘are you calling me fat, kunimi? are you? am i fat? do you think im ugly? im a piggie?’

you ranted and slowly started crying, making kunimi frantically scramble to stop you before the other upperclassmen see or worse, oikawa-san

‘y/n-wait-no!-um’

‘y/n-chan?’

kunimi shut his eyes tightly in fear at the deadly sweet voice of his captain and kindaichi and mattsun sent a quick prayer to their fellow teammate before he was going to get killed

‘uh oh, i think we’d have to start looking for a replacement for kunimi’

makki, who just arrived, teased making kindaichi fearfully look at him

‘eh?!’

‘oh, you first years have never seen oikawa mad, have ya? well, you’ll get front seat of it!’

mattsun clapped him in the back making him gulp

you werent sobbing but you were definitely crying, tear tracks quickly being wetted by the numerous amount of tears that fell

kunimi scrambled to his knees and folded himself, forehead resting on the floor by his hands

‘I APOLOGIZE! PLEASE DONT KILL ME! I APOLOGIZE! PLEASE FIND MERCY IN YOURSELF AND FORGIVE ME, Y/N-SAMA!’

it was certainly a sight to see

normally calm and collected and chill and relaxed hippie kunimi begging to be forgiven

oikawa stepped forward but you quickly felt the change of your mood, feeling bad for your boy and scrambling to pull him back up

‘oh kunimi-kun! dont kneel like that! the floor is too hard and might give you knee pain!’

it was like whiplash

iwa stepped in the gym and saw the team’s confused and bewildered expressions and saw you, kunimi, and oikawa and he shook his head

this aint even half of bad as he has seen

oikawa gently took you away from kunimi and held you to him instead, giving you a smile, to which you returned, and looked at kunimi, a deadly glint in his eye

‘what happened, y/n-chan?’

the tone of his voice sent a chill to run down everyone’s spines and even iwa, the boy who’s seen this a handful of times, shivered and nervously watched oikawa, ready to jump in

but you just blinked, completely unaware of the change of atmosphere

‘oh, um, i overreacted. i was eating too much food today and mustve annoyed him or something’

you sheepishly mumbled but oikawa was having none of it

‘no, its fine. youre literally bleeding out as we speak! dont feel the need to validate yourself!’

he lightly scolded while you hung your head low and continued to apologize but he gently bonked your head before scolding you again

the team definitely knew now that you were in that,,,, time and they definitely knew now, especially kunimi, that even if youve seen oikawa mad, youd think that the devil was more merciful than him when it relates to the topic of you

a/n: i swear to GGGOOOOODDDDDD im an oikawa whore who cant seem to stop writing for him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[lillupon]

Hi. How are you? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve re-read chapter 13, I love it so much.

What I love about the MinWon relationship now, since chapter 12, is that now Wonwoo reciprocates Mingyu’s advances. Except, of course, the embarrassing ones, which, can’t really blame him, lol.

Even though, AEV is in Wonwoo’s POV, you’re able to describe Mingyu’s character really well. It’s adorable how head over heels and totally whipped Mingyu is for Wonwoo now. I love imagining that Mingyu wakes up quite a bit before Wonwoo when he stays over, but he doesn’t move, because Wonwoo is sprawled over him, drooling over his chest. And Mingyu has to pee, but Wonwoo was in such deep sleep, he doesn’t want to wake up Wonwoo. So he stays in that position, completely endeared by Wonwoo, until Wonwoo moves after which he runs to pee, lol.

After freshening up, our Mingoo decides to make breakfast for Wonwoo. He doesn’t know if this was what people generally do after staying over, because he’d only dated people his age before, all of whom lived with their parents, so there hadn’t been any sleeping over before. But Mingyu is a good cook and he wants to impress Wonwoo, damn it! Even though, something tells him that Wonwoo was already pretty impressed with him and he doesn’t really need to make much effort, but he still wants to. He can already hardly believe that incredible man wants him. He’s going to do whatever it takes to keep him.

When Wonwoo calls them boyfriends, and Mingyu totally loses control, I’ll bet they don’t even make it to the bedroom. Mingyu turns the stove off; breakfast can wait, he’s already spent all of his self control not ravishing Wonwoo when he saw him in his shirt. He just grabs Wonwoo’s by his thighs, makes him wrap them around his waist and just takes Wonwoo against the nearest wall. He probably makes Wonwoo keep his shirt on, while he asks him to call him his boyfriend again, like,

“Say it again,” Mingyu growls against Wonwoo’s ears as he slips in and out of Wonwoo, nice and deep. “Say what we are.”

“Boyfriends,” Wonwoo gets out, not able to deny his alpha anything. He moans, loud and clear, because he can now that it’s just the two of them in the privacy of his home.

“Again,” Mingyu straight out demands now, pounding into the omega. HIS omega.

“B-boy.. ah.. boyfriends,” Wonwoo rasps out, lolling his head back against the wall, as Mingyu hits his sweet spot. “We’re boyfriends.”

“Fuck,” Mingyu says, voice rough, before crashing his mouth against Wonwoo.

I’ve never written smut in my life, and while this wasn’t really full blown smut, it was enough to embarrass the crap out of me.

Have a great week.

UH HOLY SHIT! I combusted reading this Σ>―(〃°ω°〃)♡→ I love the way you write whipped alpha Mingyu. 

Oh my god, drooling Wonwoo! He truly conked out after their bedroom activities lmao. I imagine AEV-Wonwoo being quite strict with his sleeping schedule. Like, In-bed-by-10PM strict. Staying up late, getting dicked dumb by Mingyu, and then spending hours whispering pillow talk to each other took a lot out of poor Wonwoo. 

So cute that Mingyu held his bladder so that he wouldn’t disturb Wonwoo’s sleep (ಥ﹏ಥ) Wow, imagine what’s going through Mingyu’s head when he woke up that morning. Part of him thought that it had all been a dream. So when he opens his eyes and sees Wonwoo’s dark head on his chest, when he feels Wonwoo’s weight atop him...  He’s in heaven. Wonwoo smells of content and satiated omega. Pride swells in Mingyu’s chest. He did that. And maybe it’s asking for too much, too soon, but he wants to share more mornings with Wonwoo that are just like this one. 

Mingyu really showed his alpha side with that little smut snip you wrote OMg!! So hot ( ╥ω╥ ) Wonwoo is still soft and ready from last night; Mingyu slips in like he belongs there. Wonwoo koala-clings to his alpha: arms wrapped around Mingyu’s shoulders, thighs tight around Mingyu’s waist and his toes curled with pleasure. The position has Mingyu hitting the deepest parts of him. He’s seeing stars, it feels so good. Mingyu’s demands of, “Say it again. Say what we are,” gets him wetter than any dirty talk ever could. That, combined with the display of alpha strength--Mingyu bears his weight so easily--has an orgasm shaking out of him embarrassingly fast.

Aww, and I bet it takes them a long time to say good-bye after! They’ve both showered. Mingyu is all dressed up and ready to go (sans hoodie, since Wonwoo has now claimed a second one for his collection). They loiter at the door, squeezing in some last-minute conversation and kisses. Wonwoo has his fingers curled loosely into the front of Mingyu’s shirt.

“You’ll text me when you get home?”

“M-hm,” Mingyu says. 

“Okay,” Wonwoo says. “Bye, then. Enjoy the rest of your weekend. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Video call tonight?” 

“Yeah,” Wonwoo says. The way things are going, Mingyu might just end up spending the night again. They’ve been trying to say goodbye for the past hour, and Mingyu is still here.

[abraxos-is-toothless]

healing and feeling

My @aftgexchange gift for @bayta-darell !!! I’m so sorry that this is late, I went to post at the beginning of the posting week but I couldn’t find it anywhere. I’ve spent the week doing a rewrite. There was more of it (Kevin and Neil having a discussion) but I just wanted you to get something rather than nothing. I really hope you like it. A general foxes type fic where they do some healing.  Canon warnings apply- mentioned not detailed.

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Twenty minutes. Twenty whole minutes it took of the foxes remaining silent for Betsy Dobson to realise she’d have to make the first move if she wanted to make any progress at all here today.

“David first suggested this for you all once before and you refused, which I respected. I will not force anyone to talk until they are ready. But you’re all here today and I feel I should ask the nine of you, why now?”

Aaron watched as everyone not-so-subtly shifted their eyes to look at Josten who opened his mouth as if to speak before closing it again. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them from where he sat on the floor by Andrew’s chair. There was a space next to Boyd on the plush yellow couch but well...

“This is the second time this week Neil has almost stabbed one of us.” Ah, Reynolds. Always making sure she got straight to the point. Matt glared at her, muscled arms crossed over his chest.

“I said it was fine, I startled him-”

“It damn well isn’t fine, Matt! Were you not a boxer with some good reflexes, he could have done some serious damage.”

Aaron watched them argue back and forth until Betsy politely cleared her throat, her calm, soothing smile never once leaving her face.  He admired the woman, he truly did; he couldn’t imagine dealing with people’s shit all day and managing to still look sane and collected. His own mind was enough of an asshole as it was. “I’m glad that we’ve gotten to why you’re all here, but I’d like for us to remain civil in these sessions. Talking about such things can be straining and I want you to remember you’re a team, that you’re friends.” Matt nodded and threw Neil a small smile and Allison simply flicked her hand, bright red nails catching in the sunlight streaming through the window. Aaron caught Neil bringing a hand up to rub at the scarring on his face but then Andrew’s hand came down to hold the back of his neck, thumb rubbing back and forth carefully and the tension Neil was holding in his shoulders eased up. His twin met his stare without faltering and simply raised a pale brow at him, as if daring him to comment. Aaron kept his mouth shut and turned back to Betsy. “Now Neil, would you be able to tell us what might have brought on these outbursts of violence?”

“I’ve always been this way, thanks to my mother.” Aaron saw Andrew’s jaw clench at the mention of Mary Wesninski; he knew well enough how his brother felt about abusive mothers. “But this is different. We lost our most recent game. We’re falling behind a little and if we don’t win the next game, we don’t get to progress any further.” Aaron couldn’t stop his mouth from moving, even if he had tried to.

“You’re telling me that Boyd almost got stabbed because we lost a game? Are you serious right now? It’s not the end of the fucking world!”

“It is for me!” He stopped and said nothing more, turning his face away from them all, ignoring their looks of confusion. He knew Josten loved Exy as much as Kevin, but he didn’t think such a thing was enough to stab someone over. Kevin sighed, eyes closing before he put his head in his hands. Neil’s jaw clenched and he stood abruptly, walking towards the door, Andrew following just a few seconds after. Betsy, bless her heart, she tried to reason with two of the most stubborn beings on the planet.

“Neil, maybe you’re not quite ready to talk, but we’ve only just-”

“I apologise, Dr. Dobson, but I can’t talk with you in the room. Anything regarding that part of my life cannot be discussed outside of the people who already know. I do not wish to implicate you.” The woman wrote a few things down; the scratch of the pen was loud to Aaron’s ears.

“Very well, then. Let David know when you’re all ready to come back, and we’ll schedule something between classes and practice.” Neil and Andrew disappeared out of the door and Aaron and the rest were quick to follow, but not before Renee, ever the peacekeeper, gave the woman a gentle smile and told her they’d see her next week. As if she alone could wrangle them all into another session. He made his way over to the mas with Nicky and Kevin, where Neil and Andrew waited, sharing a cigarette between them, and the upperclassmen left ahead of them in Matt’s truck. No one spoke until they were all in the car and on the move, and of course, it was Kevin.

“This isn’t a good idea.” Nicky leaned across the seats and over Aaron to bat at Kevin with one hand, all the while texting Erik on his phone in the other.

“Shut up. You don’t think that anything is ever a good idea unless it’s one of your ideas.”

“Neil I really don’t-”

“Enough, Kevin. I’m telling them and that’s final. I should have told them all anyway.” Kevin sat back with a huff and Aaron rolled his eyes at the idiot’s dramatics, staring out the window for the rest of the unusually quiet drive back to fox tower, except for the clicking of Nicky’s phone and the quiet giggles he would let out at whatever he and his fiancé were talking about. When they got there, Andrew found the closest parking spot to the building that he could, because his brother preferred not to do any more exercise than being an Exy player forced him to. The others hadn’t waited for them, not that Aaron thought they would have, but he thought at least Allison would have been standing at the doors so Neil couldn’t slip away and get out of telling them anything. 

They hadn’t, however, stopped themselves from taking over Aaron’s old dorm room he shared with the rest of the ‘monsters’ before he moved to Matt’s. Dan and Matt were sitting together on the couch, the former tucked into the latter’s side, Allison was lounging in a beanbag while she inspected her nails and Renee was sitting on the floor in front of the small and worn table, sorting Nicky’s nail polishes into some sort of order. “Now that you’re here,” Allison said without even bothering to glance in their direction, “let’s get to this secret you’ve been keeping from us, shall we?” Aaron watched Andrew move over to the window to sit on the sill, lighting up another cigarette. He knew there was no need to worry about the smoke alarm because Andrew had taken it out from the first day they moved into the room. It was clear he wasn’t bothered by any of this, at least Aaron didn’t think he was, which means either he knew what Neil was going to tell them all, or he had guessed early on and hadn’t pushed for a definite answer just yet. 

Kevin sat down in the other bean bag, although with how tall he was, he seemed to dwarf the bag. The sight was odd, considering that caused him to slouch more than a chair or the couch would have, something he would moan at the rest of them for when they did it. Nicky sat himself next to Renee, gushing over how she’d organised all of his colours, nodding so enthusiastically that his messy brown curls bobbed with the movement. Aaron went to lean against the wall closest to Andrew, who didn’t acknowledge him other than glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. They were better than they were before, Aaron actually managed to have whole conversations with his brother now and he was no longer hostile towards Katelyn, letting her come along sometimes when they went to Sweeties and Eden’s. He knew it would take time to have some sort of a stable relationship with Andrew but they were trying, and that was okay for now. 

Neil stood in front of them all, hands in the PSU foxes hoodie he wore, barely any emotion on his face, as he always was. No wonder he and Andrew worked so well together, Aaron thought, internally rolling his eyes. He got straight to it. “After Nathan was killed, all his debts with the Moriyamas fell onto me. The money my mother took when she decided that we should run belonged to them. In Ichirou’s eyes, they still own Kevin and Jean too.”

“What does this have to do with you turning into a murderous little rage machine?” Matt rolled his eyes at Allison. 

“I made a deal with Ichirou.” Dan dropped her head into her hands while Nicky made a choked off sound. Aaron was tired of Josten making dumb decisions and not telling them. This is what happened when the fucking idiot ended up at Baltimore. “I wanted something and to get him to give in to that, I said he could have the majority of our earnings when we went pro.”

“Wait.” Neil turned his head towards Kevin, who was outwardly confused now. “You said he wanted a take of what we earned, that I knew. But you didn’t say it was in exchange for something, what did he give you?”

“I wanted Riko dealt with and he was.” Aaron’s eyes widened at that, as did the others in the room. Kevin went deathly pale and he stood slowly, looking at Neil as if he didn’t even know him. He opened and closed his mouth several times before he gave up and disappeared to his room without a word. Aaron had a feeling there was a bottle of vodka waiting for him to drown his sorrows in. Allison looked mildly impressed. 

“We all knew the suicide story was suspicious, but I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I wanted him to pay for what he did. I walked out of that room and I laughed. But that’s why the nightmares have kicked in and I’ve picked up old habits, like sleeping with a weapon under my pillow. If Ichirou notices any slack, he will kill me.” Aaron looked to Andrew again, and his brother was staring back at Neil, as if waiting for him to fall apart. Dan stood, determination on her face and a fire in her eyes. 

“Then we help you stay on top of the game. We’ll fit in an extra practice a week and on the free period you share with Matt, he can discuss drills with you.” Aaron saw Matt smile and nod, receiving a dip of Neil’s head in return. “We’ll tell Coach that we’ll have an evening a week at the court, watching old games and seeing what we can take from them. No one gets to ruin this for you, they don’t get to take anything else.”

Nicky whooped and got up to hug Neil quickly, after he got the consent for one. Aaron wasn’t too happy about all this extra work for a sport he wasn’t even that bothered by, but he supposed he owed Neil this. After all, he was the one, no matter how stupidly he went about it, that finally managed their rag tag group work as a team and to become friends. He brought them together, and so Aaron would do this

So that they could stay together. 

~~~~~

They did get better over the weeks, and they won their next game, letting them progress further into this season. 

The session with Betsy continued, though progress on that front was slow going to begin with. Neil’s confession had broken the ice, and each of them would discuss assignments they were struggling with or the odd everyday problems life gave you. Betsy never pushed them, allowing them to get used to talking first before she tried diving for issues hidden deeper down. 

After a few weeks, Allison discussed her parents when she had gotten a phone call from her mother out of the blue. Apparently, they had started to notice how the foxes were on the up and up, and how much more media attention they were getting. Allison’s mother wanted to use her daughter for her own gain, to get their businesses promoted through the foxes and for Allison to start building their incomes through Exy. Aaron didn’t understand a lot of it, other than that his teammate’s parents were some of the most self centred assholes on the planet. After all this time, they hadn’t gotten in contact with Allison to see how she was or to ask about working on their own family issues, but just to see how they could make life better for them. The blonde had said in the one session that she finally told them where they could stick it, and if they wanted to cut her off from the money they could. If they didn’t want to love her as parents should, then she wanted nothing to do with them. 

When Allison ended her rant with the words ‘fuck them’, the foxes repeated them- even Andrew, to everyone’s surprise -loud and clear. Betsy tried to be reprimanding, but Aaron could see she was proud and trying valiantly to not smile with them. 

~~~~~

Some months or so after that, Aaron was attending one of his sessions where it was just him and Andrew. It was coming up to a year now since they’d first started these double sessions with Betsy, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit he liked coming to them. Yes, sometimes it was bad and they’d end then arguing heatedly, or sometimes, it would leave them exhausted but content that they were managing to get on to the same page with each other. And other times, well, those times managed to bring their walls crashing down. 

Today was one of those times. 

“Aaron, you don't look as if you’re well. Is everything alright? If you’re unable to sit through this one, you may go back and rest if you like.” He knew he must look like shit, after the night he’d had with his mind torturing him, but he felt as if this is why he’d been so plagued by nightmares the last few nights. Like Andrew had to know about them. 

“Nightmares.” His throat felt raw and scratchy, but he supposed that was normal when you wake yourself up by screaming yourself hoarse. 

“Are you able to tell us what they were or about?” He nodded, turning on the couch so he was angled to the left, making it easier for him to look directly at Andrew. His brother seemed unfazed as he usually did, but Aaron thought there was something different about him today, though he didn’t quite know exactly what was different. Maybe he felt like today was going to be better for them, too. 

“I thought I was already awake, because I was walking around the house in Columbia. It was too quiet, and the house was dark, and it was almost as if I could feel the shadows closing in around my shoulders.” He breathing became ragged and clenched a fist where his hand rested on his thigh. “I thought I heard glass smash and the sound of a thud, like something had hit the hardwood floor. It was muffled, coming from upstairs so I followed the sounds.” He closed his eyes and swallowed hard; it was like he was back in the nightmare and he couldn’t get out. 

“Aaron? Aaron, you can stop if you want to.” He shook his head, feeling part of his hair fall onto his forehead. 

“The noise was louder up there, coming from your room.” He opened his eyes again, catching his brother’s gaze, hazel eyes that matched his own. And they knew, they knew where Aaron’s nightmare was leading them, yet he didn’t flinch away. “I opened the door and it was back to that day, and Drake…” Andrew did not outwardly show any reaction to the name of his abuser, though Aaron saw his fingers stray to the edge of his armband. As if it soothed him to know he had a way to keep himself safe. “When I tried to get in there, it was like there was an invisible barrier in front of me. No matter how hard I kept hitting it, it never went away. I kept screaming at you, to look at me, so you’d know I was right there but there was nothing.” His cheeks felt wet and brought a hand up to find that those were tears running down his cheeks. 

Andrew’s eyes had widened, and the hand that was holding his armband started to drift towards Aaron, but stopped just shy of making contact. He took a few deep breaths before he felt like he could go on. “I closed my eyes after a while but I didn’t stop trying to get to you. Then all of a sudden I could hear laughing, and when I opened my eyes, I was back in that shitty apartment, before you came and Tilda had locked me in the closet. She had her Junkie friends over doing all sorts of shit, music on as high as possible.” He felt like he could breathe, as though someone kept on piling invisible weights on his chest, one after the other. “I had one toy, a couple of granola bars and a bottle of Gatorade, of all things. No matter how loud I shouted for her, she never came to let me out. I woke up screaming after that, scared Katelyn half to death.”  He’d kept his gaze on the floor when talking about his mother, knowing she was a touchy subject between them. 

There was a quick tap to his knee and, a bit reluctantly, he lifted his head to look at Andrew again. His brother was breathing a little heavier, and Aaron could see the way his chest moved. There was more emotion on his face than he’d ever seen. When he was on the meds it was different, it was just a constant sort of forced excitement. This was real and this was Andrew. His twin. “I’m going to hug you, yes or no?” Aaron almost choked on air at the words. Words he’d never expected to leave Andrew’s mouth. He saw Betsy falter just a little out of the corner of his eye, her own stalling from where she was writing things down. 

“Yes.” Then slowly, carefully, Andrew shifted forward so he could pull Aaron into him. His arms went around Aaron’s back, and he hesitated just a little before doing the same. Their cheeks rested against each other and when Andrew spoke next, Aaron could feel the words against his ear. 

“We’re okay, you hear me? Both of us. We’re a little bit broken, but we’re doing okay.” Aaron nodded, taking a stuttered breath. And if the two of them, the same yet not the same, held onto each other for just a little longer then that was just fine. 

They were just okay.

---------

Again, I’m sorry about the lateness! Hope you liked it:)) I’m also sorry it’s not as long as it was, but trying to remember everything to rewrite was so difficult.

[murder-raven13]

My Haikyuu Ships pt. 3

A/N: Part 3 because I am a hoe that procrastinates

Warning(s): cursing, not proofread, this has again become kind of relationship hcs, loooooooooooooooooooog, I added another ship because my memory sucks

Word Count: 3,401

Part 1 Part 2

Tanaka x Ennoshita

So, Ennoshita is calm and collected but also very insecure. Doesn’t trust in his own skill or ability to lead nor the relationships he’s built with the team. Tanaka, on the other hand, is loud and confident and dedicated. He also refuses to let people talk bad about themselves or let other people talk bad about the people he cares about. This really helps with Ennoshita’s insecurity because Tanaka is brutally honest and Ennoshita knows that, so he believes Tanaka. And Ennoshita can keep Tanaka in line and on track. Tanaka is the type that’s only truly dedicated to the things he cares about, so other things tend to fall behind. School is one of the things that gets left behind. But Ennoshita is there to keep Tanaka on track, making sure that he’s doing what he has to to ensure that he can continue participating in his passions. They’re both really good together, covering the other’s weaknesses with ease and letting themselves lean on the other when they need it. Very sweet boys with a very soft, fun relationship. 

Yachi x Kiyoko

Okay, Kiyoko is a bit of an outsider and she’s not good at expressing herself. But she is sure of herself. She knows her capabilities and has confidence in her looks and, after a while, in her relationships with those close to her. But she’s never had a relationship with a female that she’s been sure of. Then Yachi comes along, basically worshipping the ground Kiyoko walks on, and completely anxious about literally everything. Yachi is a big ball of stress and love, and she turns to Kiyoko first, for everything. She believes in Kiyoko, knows that Kiyoko will always fit with her, doesn’t mind that Kiyoko has flaws because Kiyoko is perfect to Yachi. And Kiyoko helps Yachi build her confidence. They’re a very domestic couple, I feel. The kind that would be able to just sit in silence while they did their homework or just watch TV together every night. Kiyoko makes sure that Yachi doesn’t overwork or overstress herself by giving her massages and calming baths. Yachi makes sure that Kiyoko is happy and sure of their relationship, completely free with her emotions and her words whenever they’re together, by ensuring that Kiyoko knows Yachi is there, always, the peaceful shadow in Kiyoko’s life. They’re just neat together. 

Yachi x Ushijima

Ushijima is a very simple man and very devoted man. His partner’s needs and feelings are a priority to him, even though he may struggle to pick up on body language. He’s big and strong, but very gentle, astoundingly so for someone so brutal on the court. Yachi is pretty much the opposite. She’s tiny and unsure and anxious. And Ushijima terrifies her at first. He’s giant and strong and stoic. This boy does not look welcoming, especially to someone as tiny and panicky as Yachi. So, it takes a while. Ushijima doesn’t think much of her at first because she doesn’t seem like much but he sees her struggling with a near panic attack after she gets separated from the team one day and he just really can’t stop himself from wanting to protect this tiny human. He becomes a kind of balm, a protector that makes Yachi feel safe because, no matter how scary the world it, Ushijima is there to keep the brunt of it away. And Yachi serves as a constant reminder of Ushijima’s strength, a reminder that he’s needed, loved, for all the qualities about himself that he’s spent his entire life strengthening. 

Atsumu x Hinata

Can I just say disaster? [that’s gonna describe quite of few of the remaining ships tbh] They’re a disaster but, like, a good disaster. Atsumu and Hinata have the same zeal for volleyball and Atsumu fell in the love the first time they played a game against each other. Hinata took a little longer to fall. Together, though, they’re good. They have a place to channel all their chaotic energy. They mess with each other a lot, perpetual state of war via prank. Sometimes, much to the chagrin of those that know them, they keep score of who can prank the most other people. But most of the times it’s kept between themselves. This is a very fun couple. The kind that goes on spontaneous beach trips at 2 in the morning and plays until they can’t physically move. So in love with each other they sometimes forget other people exist. They’re both absolutely blinding, all radiance and sunshine, burning with so much passion that other’s have struggled all their lives to deal with them. They get lost in each other, reverent and worshipping and all to pleasantly blinded by the other.

Atsumu x Sakusa

Sakusa is mean, a meanie. He’s so mean to Atsumu. Most of Atsumu’s time is spent just pouting at Sakusa until Sakusa has to desperately try and hide the blush on his face. That pout is his favorite of Atsumu’s expressions and Atsumu has a lot of them. Sakusa hates being the in public eye but that’s unavoidable with his career. But Atsumu, glorious, blinding Atsumu is there to keep the crowds and the germs and all of it focused on him. He keeps the world away from Sakusa when Sakusa can’t deal with it. He’s always, always making sure Sakusa is comfortable and clean and happy. And Sakusa is the motivation Atsumu needs to truly take care of himself. Atsumu gets so focused on volleyball and being the best that he forgets some things, like resting and self-care and showering, all things that Sakusa is religious about. They make such a good couple because Sakusa needs Atsumu to be the light and Atsumu needs Sakusa to be his guiding hand. 

Osamu x Suna

Chill babies. Osamu and Suna are both so chill, or at least they both seem that way. Osamu’s chill is kind of fake. It’s not that he’s not chill, it’s just that he’s surrounded by things that push his chill into a little corner and beat it up. And by “things” I mean Atsumu. Osamu loves his twin, no doubt, but his twin is also the most exhausting person alive a majority of the time. They’re constantly in competition. They have the same face and yet Osamu is constantly preferred less by fans besides the fact that he swore he would be more likable than Atsumu because he didn’t want to be alone like Atsumu. So, the team and those that know Atsumu all prefer Osamu, but everyone else doesn’t. In comes Suna, who captures everything on his phone, and I mean everything. Every fight, every argument, every moment, everything. This lets Osamu look back at how he and Atsumu interact and realize how tired he is of it all. And Suna is more than willing to just lay there, doing nothing, when Osamu needs somewhere quiet to be. Suna is Osamu’s refuge from Atsumu, whose passion and attitude make him too much sometimes. And Osamu lets Suna chill. He doesn’t expect emotion or passion or anything chaotic from Suna, he just wants Suna to be Suna, a lazy little shit that likes to cause trouble whenever it’s easy to do so. Osamu, to Suna, is a partner, someone that knows him and accepts his limits, respects how he is a person. 

Osamu x Hinata

Okay, Hinata is really just like a nicer, more likable version of Atsumu’s energy. Osamu would be one of very few able to keep up with Hinata’s energy in a relationship without getting swallowed up in it. Osamu would be so supportive of Hinata’s volleyball career, would undoubtedly practice when Hinata begged him. He doesn’t mind, he misses the game. But Hinata never tries to pull him back into volleyball, he understands what Osamu is passionate about and supports the fuck out of it. Loves Osamu’s food, constantly bragging about it. Osamu can go nowhere with Hinata without turning bright red at some point. Also constantly bringing people to Osamu’s restaurant. The team won a game? Onigiri Miya. Someone got engaged? Onigiri Miya. Man has no shame. And Hinata’s so cute and famous that this really does bring a bunch of people to the restaurant [Osamu is salty about it and so is Atsumu]. 

Ushijima x Hinata

So, I’m a whore to enemies to lovers and I’m a whore for height differences; what you gonna do about it? Nothing because nothing can be done. Hinata has similar energy to Tendou, except Hinata is much nicer than Tendou and a different kind of chaotic. Hinata is unfiltered passion and confidence. Ushijima is concentrated passion and confidence. The two of them together are constantly challenging each other because Hinata never stops striving to be the best, a trait Ushijima greatly admires. And Hinata is always so impressed with Ushijima’s skill and power and size, loves that he’s found another volleyball idiot to be with. Hinata drags Ushijima into life experiences and Ushijima brings Hinata home whenever he’s drifting too far. They’re a very strange couple to others because their energy is so different. Definitely the couple whose house is more plant and volleyball stuff than anything else. Hinata will definitely tuck himself into Ushijima’s side until he’s almost completely hidden, may have once gotten into Ushijima’s hoodie with him, because he’s a little shit and Ushijima cannot say no to him [and he doesn’t really mind have Hinata so close].

Yachi x Oikawa

Oikawa is used to girls fawning over him. But Yachi is too shy to do so. Literally will not admit she finds him pretty. She just kind of ignores him, which pisses Oikawa off because this small, adorable girl won’t even spare him a glance and that’s never fucking happened before. Honestly starts pursuing Yachi because she didn’t seem interested at first. The first time she calls him pretty, he blushes, which was not a reaction he was expecting from himself. Realized he liked this cute ball of nerves more than he was originally supposed to. Yachi helps Oikawa realize he doesn’t need to be fake all the time, that not everyone has to life him, because he has the people who matter. And Oikawa helps Yachi become more confident, more sure of herself, more comfortable with defending her ground [she has to in order to deal with his damn fangirls]. Oikawa is a clingy ass person, but he understands that that makes Yachi a little uncomfortable in public, so he cuts back on the PDA, until there is a guy talking to Yachi, then he’s all hands on deck. Will definitely save Yachi from stressful situations. Loves that Yachi brings him lunch every day. 

Suga x Ushijima

Suga hates him at first. It’s so funny. Because Ushijima is just captivated because Suga is pretty and kind and caring and so observant, if not the greatest setter. He’s got a bond of trust with his teammates that Ushijima admires a lot. And Suga is willing to do whatever it takes to win, even if that means he has to step into the background. But Suga hates him because he thinks Ushijima is perfect. It’s not true hate, just irritation. But it’s enough to keep Suga away. And then Suga starts realizing all the ways Ushijima is far from perfect. He’s stoic and bad at talking and communicating and all together a disaster at social interaction because he’s so brutally honest without thought. And Suga starts to like him, how could he not. This man is a mess and handsome and Suga’s a little whipped. It’s Tendou that gets them together because Tendou notices that Suga’s feelings have changed and knows that Ushijima’s crush has not. So, he sticks them together and, true to character, Ushijima confesses without much thought [despite the fact that he blushes]. Together, they’re a very mature couple and I do not mean that Suga gets any less meddlesome. I just mean that they’re relationship is very domestic, very stable. Their relationship is a constant, a comfort, something to always come home to. And Suga has his school students and Ushijima has his volleyball career and then they have each other. Works very well. 

Bokuto x Hinata

Bright disaster bois. Can I just say good luck to their friends. These two are constantly feeding off each other’s energy. Hinata hypes Bokuto up and Bokuto pulls Hinata forward. All the time, constant movement with these two. They’re almost never home. Either at the gym practicing, out getting ice cream, at an amusement part, or trying to get themselves lost. They’re impossible to keep up with, but so fun to watch. They’re such a happy couple, always smiling, always laughing, always with a new story to tell. Little explorers. But always together. People can see it, too, how utterly bright the two of them get together. It’s actually ridiculous, Kageyama hates them [he thinks they’re cute but he would literally rather die than admit it]. 

Tanaka x Yamamoto

Chaos personified in a relationship. They’re both threatening appearance wise so whenever they go out together, they’re absolutely avoided by everyone. But they’re so nice all the time. Constantly giving out compliments, definitely the couple that will talk about attractive people they see on the street together. Also definitely the couple that is constantly hyping each other up, in everything they do, even like brushing their teeth. They’re stupid. Always having fun together. 

Matsukawa x Hanamaki

These two both have resting facial expressions that aren’t actually indicative of what they’re feeling. This, on top of their personalities, means that these two are the ultimate pranksters. They can keep a poker face like nobody’s business. Absolutely impossible to read. And, unlike some of the other prankster couples, these two do not prank each other often. No, no, no. They team up on other people. Like demons. No one is safe. If you are around, you are a potential target. And they love it. It makes them laugh and its something they can unfailingly do with the other. It’s a bonding thing for them, would definitely make pranking people a date. Other than that, though, they play a lot of video games together. Plus, the lack of emotional expression of the other’s face has never thrown either of them off because they rely on body language and other cues because they themselves understand that the face isn’t always reliable. Very understanding and super in tune with each other. 

Aran x Kita

So, y’all remember when Aran got onto Kita for questioning if it was okay or normal for him to feel happy? That was the Moment. Aran lives in Japan, but he is black and his name is foreign. Because of this, he’s been an oddity his entire life. That doesn’t mean that people don’t like him or that they make fun of him for it, in fact, plenty of people react like the Miya twins. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s an oddity and that people react to it. Kita is also an oddity, not because of his name or his ethnicity, but because of his personality. He doesn’t act like a child and is super dedicated to a strict routine that includes keeping everything religiously clean. Not a lot of kids are like that. And Kita himself has said that he thinks more like an adult than a child, he’s aware of the fact that he’s not like his peers. This helps connect the two of them. They don’t react to each other for what makes them odd, they’re simply friends. Kita has never thought much of Aran’s name or the fact that he’s black and Aran doesn’t mind that Kita doesn’t exactly act like a child. They trust each other, they rely on each other. And they found their common ground at first in the fact that they’re both different in some way.  

Takeda x Ukai

I have shipped these two from the very first conversation I saw them have. Ukai was irritated by Takeda, but admired and acknowledged his unwavering persistence. And Takeda went full creep and learned everything he could about Ukai so that he could manipulate him into coaching the team. Like, this meanie does not give up. And Ukai both hates and loves this trait. Because this adorable teacher should not be able to make people bend to his will like this, dammit. And Takeda is adorable, Ukai knows [he pretends he doesn’t]. Takeda knows that Ukai is a big softie despite his appearance, that he cares a lot more than he lets on, and that he is, legit, a concerned parent half the time [what other kind of person gets onto children all the time to make sure they’re eating properly?]. He also knows that Ukai is smart and dedicated and cares a great deal about his family. So, once Takeda had his sights set on Ukai as a partner, Ukai really couldn’t [and didn’t want to] say no. They become Parents, no questions asked, but not like real parents, like the uncles the kids are always left with. [Ukai thinks he’s smooth-he is not, Takeda finds this adorable and won’t say anything about it].

Tsukishima x Yamaguchi

The only reason this ship made it to the third part is because I wanted a childhood friends to lovers in every part. It really is law. Please, Tsukki is such a grumpy baby and Yamaguchi is such a stressed out puppy. Tsukki is soft for this man and this man alone. Literally cannot actually be mean to him. Yamaguchi knows it to [whenever Tsukki tells him to shut up, Yamaguchi knows that it’s for one of two reasons: Tsukki is flustered or Yamaguchi is doing something Tsukki finds cute and is flustered]. Yamaguchi is a walking protector, will snap at people for attacking Tsukki even if he himself is terrified. And Tsukki has unwavering confidence in Yamaguchi’s abilities. They know each other. Yamaguchi knows that Tsukki is a big softies, that he’s insecure sometimes, that he loves anything strawberry flavored and anything to do with dinosaurs. He knows and he loves Tsukki for it all. And Tsukki knows that Yamaguchi is insecure and quiet and doubtful, but he also knows that Yamaguchi is dedicated and kind and everything he never thought he would find in another person. Yamaguchi is where Tsukki goes to feel safe being himself. And Tsukki is where Yamaguchi goes to feel secure. They’re safe together. 

Nishinoya x Yaku

Honestly, they’re both gremlin smols and I love them. They constantly learn from each other and push each other to be their best. Yaku is a team mom and Noya is team problem child. So, they work pretty well together. Noya gets Yaku to loosen up a bit and Yaku gets Noya to calm the fuck down. Noya lowkey makes him nervous sometimes but thats because Yaku is scared of his own feelings. Like, how can he like this wild mess so much? Please explain it to him, he would like to know. But he does love Noya, a whole damn lot, and he’s not doing anything to change it. 

Kyotani x Yahaba

I cannot believe I forgot to add their part. I’m mad at myself. Kyotani is a big scared asshole. He doesn’t want to let people close to him, he wants to be the best, and he definitely doesn’t want others to know enough about him to see him as anything but strong. So, being vulnerable isn’t his strong suit and he doesn’t let people in. His respect is hard earned, his affection even more so. But Yahaba is a pretty boy with a very strong center. He refuses to take any shit from any one. But he doesn’t act that way unless he needs to. And Kyotani needs him to act like that. And once he does, it gets much harder for Kyotani to believe that Yahaba is just a pretty boy. Yahaba can and will put Kyotani in his place. And Kyotani is constantly pushing Yahaba’s buttons, forcing him to reveal bit by bit how strong is personality actually is, how much he wants to be the best as well. Best bois. Mad dog and mad dog trainer. I love them. Probably my favorite Haikyuu ship, out of the 50 million I have.  

This is the last part, yay!!!

I have too many ships, some pls help me.

This post legit won’t save half of the tags. I’ve typed them twice and it won’t keep them on the damn post. So, I had to go with just one or two tags for each to make sure each ship was in the tags. 

[hetacon]

Prom Queen: Chapter 4

First || Previous || Next

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Word Count: 1,800

Pairings: Endgame Prinxiety, Platonic LAMP, more could be included at a later point

Warning: Swearing, small food mention, let me know if there’s anything I missed!

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Summary: “Hey Virgil, tell us about yourself, yeah?” one of the girls asked, the guy she was just talking with fixing his gaze on to Virgil too.

(Make sure to read all the way to the end if you want my thoughts so far! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this story, my art, or writing! Enjoy the chapter!)

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Virgil started to spend more time with the popular kids after they got back to school, something he never thought would be happening. They were gossipy and didn’t really appeal to Virgil as overall people but Roman was their friend so he started to get to know them for the sake of his best friend. He didn’t even really know them honestly, they almost never talked about themselves or their interests or anything in terms of personal information, the conversations almost consistently focused on the drama going around the school that day. There was something new every time they went over. For a solid month, he and Roman would go chat for a minute or two before going off to find Patton and Logan.

That was actually what they were just doing that day when one of Roman’s friends got Virgil’s attention.

“Hey Virgil, tell us about yourself, yeah?” one of the girls asked, the guy she was just talking with fixing his gaze on to Virgil too.

Virgil looked over to Madison if he remembered correctly, trying to hide most of his shock at the fact that she even addressed him. Not many of Roman’s friends acknowledged him much when they would go over but Virgil guessed they’d taken some interest in him. He had been coming over with Roman for quite a good while now, it figures they’d notice his presence at some point. He had to respond quick though, this chance couldn’t go to waste. “Uh, ok, what do you want to know?”

“What kind of music do you listen to?” Well, an odd question to start off with.

Virgil shrugged a bit. “Eh, just what everyone else listens to, you know? Not really anything in particular. It’s not like I really look for songs to listen to by anyone specific.”

Roman nudged him with a snort. “Since when has this ever been the case? If there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you’re emo through and through,” he said, a certain fondness to his look. Virgil bumped his shoulder with a laugh back, fixing him with a playful glare.

“And what if I can like things that you don’t expect of me, huh?” Virgil asked with a slight tease. Roman simply raised an eyebrow but shrugged, letting the argument go without much more of a struggle. Roman wasn’t wrong though, he still listened to everything that he had before, none of it had changed despite what he said. Definitely none of what people usually listened to. He was never one to follow trends with music or otherwise and Roman unfortunately knew that.

“Do you do anything interesting?” one of the people joining the conversation asked.

“Things here and there, not exactly much. School is a drag, takes up way too much of my time to actually let me focus on anything even remotely interesting,” Virgil said calmly, trying to look casual. He hoped it was working, he felt like a nervous wreck. With a few laughs and a “Fuck yeah it is!” he mustered up the courage to add in, “I draw if that counts for anything.”

“Oh yeah? Mind if we take a look?”

Virgil nodded and rummaged through his bag, finding a leather bound book. This one happened to be his more serious one, he had another that was far more personal stashed away. Only Roman, Patton, and Logan ever saw that one, and not even in its full entirety. The personal one had gotten a lot more use than the one currently in his hands. Virgil slid the book over the table and he watched as it was opened to a page of really messy scribbles in the shape of a distraught person’s face. He’d remembered drawing that one, he was in the middle of history sophomore year having a panic attack but was too nervous to ask to step outside.

“Woah, this is cool man,” Tyler said as he looked over it, others nodding in agreement. They proceeded to flip through the pages for a bit while they took turns asking him more questions.

With so much talk, Virgil noticed Roman jump up suddenly, tugging at Virgil’s sleeve frantically. “Pat and Specs!” he explained before packing up his things frantically. “So sorry guys, I need to talk to them before we have to go to class! I’ll catch up with you tomorrow!” he shouted out as he started speed walking, Virgil in tow. Virgil barely managed to collect up his stuff before he was at Roman’s side, seeing the slightest crease between Roman’s eyebrows. As relieved as Virgil was to be away from all of the questions and potential judgement, he noticed Roman was in a big rush. He couldn’t really place why.

“Hey, you uh.. You ok? What’s up?” Virgil asked, relieved as Roman slowed down a little as they turned a corner.

“I just want to get to Pat and Specs, they’re our friends you know?” Roman asked with a bit of an edge before sighing. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect you to uh.. Hit it off so much with them, I usually just say a quick hello really,” he explained.

“Really? You think so?” Virgil really hoped he was impressing the popular kids, they were Roman’s friends after all. If he was having luck with them, he wasn’t going to lose Roman that easily. He couldn’t possibly do that, not when he’d already put so much at risk.

“Yeah but anyone who doesn’t like you how you are is insane,” Roman said lowly. Virgil thought he saw Roman’s jaw clench for a second but he quickly looked ahead of them as Roman glanced over.

Virgil was tackled in a hug by Patton, causing him to smile as he hugged back. He didn’t smile for long though as the bell rang, causing Roman to sigh. He looked over, laughing a little awkwardly. “Ha, sorry Ro, didn’t mean to make us so late.”

Roman shrugged. “It’s ok, just means we’ll have to get here as soon as possible tomorrow!” With that, he and Logan started to talk as they headed to class together.

Virgil watched as Roman walked away from him and Patton and he frowned slightly before Patton was nudging his shoulder and nodding his head to the direction of their classes.

Virgil nodded back and started walking, burying his hands deep into his pockets. He really wished he had his usual hoodie to pull over his head and hide from the world. His bangs would have to do, giving him a good look at the sickeningly sweet pink he’d decided on a month prior. Who let him do that again?

“Hey, you ok?” Patton asked, silently offering Virgil a cookie. Snickerdoodle today, Virgil would’ve usually loved it.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Virgil told him. “I’m not hungry, thanks though.”

Patton looked at him with a worried look for a second before sighing, taking a bite of the cookie himself. “Alright Virge, if you say so. Who knows, maybe some rest is all you need, make sure you go easy on yourself!”

Virgil agreed, looking ahead of them.

He went home that day and went through the motions in a haze, glad when he finally got out of his disgustingly bright outfit. He stared blankly at the wall when he got a text from Roman.

“Hey, sorry I was so tense where we left things off.. I promise you didn’t do anything, that was all me.”

“What was up with that?” Virgil texted back.

Roman’s response took a minute before it popped up on Virgil’s screen. “I don’t know, I just didn’t expect them to really take such an interest in you. They can be a bit... Stuffy. Like, all the time, I much prefer hanging out with you, Pat, and Specs.”

“I mean, they’re your friends right? They asked me questions, I answered.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Some of your answers surprised me though lol, you are truly a dark and stormy knight after all!”

“Hey, I’m allowed to expand my tastes, aren’t I? You got me into some of your dumb musicals after all.”

“They are not dumb, take that back you jerk!”

Virgil snorted, hugging his pillow to his chest as he typed out another message. “Oh yeah? Make me, you pompous thespian drama queen.”

“I just might!”

Before Virgil could respond, Roman shot him a quick text reading “Shit, GTG, I need to run a few scenes before I sleep! Until tomorrow~!”

“Go chase your dreams of ‘professional make believe’ as Logan would say, night.”

As an afterthought, Virgil tacked on a red heart before blushing harshly, cursing into his hands. He really did that, no taking that one back now was there?

Either way, check in time. Roman was still his friend, they just had a normal conversation like two human beings ought to be able to have. While he seemed a little off-put by some of the changes Virgil was talking about, he didn’t seem to take it as a serious offense so a plus there. The clothes were horrible, Virgil still hated his hair, but he was doing this for Roman so he’d suck it up. Roman’s friends were starting to like him, they liked his art so that was good. Luckily they latched on to something he couldn’t lie about.

Just as Virgil was about to go to bed, another notification popped up on his phone, this time from an unknown number. Virgil stared at it for moment, his brow furrowed. He opened it though and read it.

“Hey Virgil, this is Madison! Got ur number from Roman’s phone lol, hope u don’t mind sweetie!”

Well, he kind of did mind but putting that aside-

“Hi, did you need anything?”

“Not rn but I might! Just wanted to have ur number just in case. Anyways, I’m going to bed, see u tomorrow!”

Virgil nodded to himself before he got one more text.

“BTW loveeeee ur artwork, keep up the good work bby!”

This was certainly... Bizarre. He didn’t expect to ever have the number of a popular girl in his phone but he never knew high school would be this insane. He’d survive this though, for Roman if nothing else. And if not, he just might lose Roman forever and never be able to forget about it for as long as he lives! Ok, breathe Virgil, breathe...

Things would work out, Virgil was going to make sure they did or die trying. Nobody, Roman included, could think to stop him now.

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More Prom Queen content huh? Anyways hey hey hey guys! How’d you like the newest chapter?

To be honest, I’m not sure how to feel about this one. I feel like all of my writings sound like they’re in an echo chamber. Like as if the events are completely isolated and don’t fit into an expansive narrative and existence. I have no idea if that makes a bit of sense, it might just be my depression tbh? It’s been kicking my butt more than usual.

But Virgil is finally getting noticed by the popular kids, woohoo! This obviously can’t go wrong! We shall see what Virgil will be getting up to with time!

As always, feel free to leave comments or send me asks and whatnot if you want to talk with me about the story! I’d love to hear from you guys!

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Taglist: @artissijules, @virgils-paranoia, @its-the-cat-queen, @myyoutubecorner, @marshmallow-the-panda, @anotheregofanficblog, @tssidesfamily, @shapa-likes-art, @isabelle-stars, @falsemood, @katlikethesword

[kpopfanfictrash]

Greek Life

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Taehyung / Reader

Word Count: 3,218

AU: Demigod / College Fraternity

Dialogue Prompt: "Are you suggesting an orgy?” (warning: this got a bit darker than intended but there’s light at the end!)

↳ part of my AU drabble game

“Alright.” Both arms crossed over his chest, Seokjin glared at Hoseok, son of Apollo. “I just want to be clear about one thing tonight.”

Without glancing up from his phone, Hoseok pushed dark Gucci sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. “Yes, brother?”

“Not brothers,” Seokjin corrected. “Anyways, this is me reminding you that your set volume cannot be over 100 decibels tonight. If we get another noise complaint, this house is toast.”

If Hoseok did roll his eyes, Seokjin couldn’t see through the sunglasses. The generally dismissive slouch of his posture was answer enough.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Hoseok drawled.

Seokjin’s frown deepened. “Yeah, I’m afraid I’m gonna need more than that. The last time you said you’d keep it down, we hit 125 decibels and the house nearly collapsed.”

“A gross exaggeration,” said Yoongi, son of Hades, currently curled up on the sofa. “As the demi-god of earthquakes –”

“Actually, Poseidon is in charge of earthquakes.”

“– seeing as we have no son of Poseidon in this house, I am demi-god of earthquakes, and I can inform you that the house was not close to falling down.”

“Irregardless,” Seokjin said.

“Irregardless isn’t a word!” 

Namjoon’s voice drifted from somewhere on the third floor. As son of Athena, goddess of wisdom and strategy, Namjoon took grave offense to grammatical errors.

Seokjin sighed. Rubbing his forehead, he contemplated whether his continued attempts at decency were worth it. At least if he tried, he could tell himself he did everything he could to stop chaos before it arrived. Decision made, Seokjin fixed Hoseok with his best no-nonsense glare. It was a good one, to be sure. As the son of Demeter, goddess of harvest and earth, Seokjin was the most grounded one in the fraternity.

“Hoseok,” he said. The younger demi-god looked up. “You will keep it down or I’ll personally call your father.”

The smirk disappeared from Jung Hoseok’s face. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, but I would.”

Seokjin sounded so stern, Hoseok didn’t feel like calling him out. Despite his cooler-than-thou appearance, Hoseok had major daddy issues – as in, he hated his. Apollo was a difficult guy to be be cuddly with, to be fair. On the surface, he seemed everything a father figure should be: personable, warm and awe-inspiring. Apollo was the god of the sun, healing, prophecy, music and poetry. As one might expect from the god of the sun though, he had rather high expectations for his offspring.

Hoseok didn’t care about greatness, so long as he had a good tune and good times. One time, he semi-jokingly proposed to Apollo that he become the demi-god of DJ’s and sick beats. Apollo wasn’t amused by the suggestion.

“Fine.” Hoseok placed both feet on the floor. “Dearest Seokjin, I will try to keep it down but know this,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair. “You have ruined the soul of an artist.”

Seokjin tried not to laugh. “Yeah, cool. I’ll take my chances.”

Turning around, Seokjin exited the living room into the main hall. There, he found himself face to face with what could only be described as chaos. Taehyung, son of Dionysus, absently twined grape vines up the stairs while Jimin, son of Aphrodite and Jungkook, son of Zeus, argued in front of the door.

Taehyung cocked his head while he stared at the bannister, trying to make sense of it all. As the son of Dionysus – god of wine, fertility and ecstasy – he was not unaccustomed to parties. Even his origin story at the frat involved one. When the other men showed up this year for their first day of campus, they found Taehyung entrenched in their backyard, midway through the biggest beach rager the University had ever seen.

As to his method of arrival and when, even Taehyung was not sure on the details. General merriment seemed to follow him wherever he went. The moment he decided to attend University, obviously the party followed him to his new destination.

Regardless, Taehyung was welcomed into Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) with open arms, due to the similarities he had with its other members. Taehyung was descended from a god of the Greek Pantheon, as they all were. Most mortals were shocked to learn gods and demi-gods still walked amongst them. Most mortals were blind, though and rarely saw what was beyond their noses.

Taehyung looked up, surveying the chaos before him. Kim Seokjin, eldest of the house, usually adopted a parental role to the others. At that moment, he had both hands on his hips and was attempting to mediate a fight between Jimin and Jungkook.

Already, sparks leapt from Jungkook’s fingers while Jimin’s gaze burned ruby-red with his anger.

Jimin, son of Aphrodite. 

Sweet and beautiful, with a temperament to match until you spoke ill of his loved ones. Then, all bets were off and as lovely as Jimin could be, his temper was far worse. Sweet words turned poisonous when spewed from his lips, since Jimin was also armed with the gift of persuasion. Jungkook attempted to avoid said power by not looking Jimin in the eyes.

“Look!” Jungkook said, one hand over his face. “I didn’t say your mother was easy! I just said she has a lot of demi-god children. That’s all!”

“She’s the goddess of love,” Jimin hissed, attempting to swat Jungkook’s hand down. His gaze burned scarlet in an otherwise calm expression. “Obviously she has children! You’re one to talk, anyways. How’s good ‘ol dad doing? Impregnated any mortals recently? Turned himself into a ray of light? A cow?”

“Hey! He turned Io into a cow, not himself!”

“How is that better?”

Shrugging, Jungkook nearly stumbled as he crashed into an a thousand-year-old lamp. 

Appearing from nowhere, Yoongi deftly caught this and replaced it on the counter. “Welcome,” he mumbled, drifting into the kitchen.

For a minute, Jimin and Jungkook forgot their fight and stared. 

“Dude needs to announce himself more,” Jungkook said, momentarily thrown.

Shoving both hands into the pockets of his hoodie, Jungkook revealed a small rip in the seams. Despite his grunge, Jungkook was still one of the most handsome guys around campus. It was hard not to be with his chiseled jawline, tousled hair and dark, piercing gaze. If there were a student vote on who was most likely to be a demi-god amongst them, Jeon Jungkook would be the unanimous favorite.

Still, he had problems of his own. Mainly that despite all his achievements, his father continued to insist he failed to meet expectations. A demigod of Zeus was powerful and as such, was expected to accomplish great feats. So far, Jungkook had only been the youngest person ever to climb Mt. Everest, written a collection of poems reviewed in Time Magazine, discovered a purpose for the appendix not previously thought of and contributed several designs to NASA’s most recent launch.

Zeus called it all child’s play. 

Shortly following, Jungkook stopped trying to impress his father and enrolled in University. Still, it wasn’t unusual to run into Jungkook at odd hours of the night, muttering corrections of Machiavellian theory with a bottle of wine in one hand.

All of this went to say that Taehyung understood why Jungkook was sometimes an ass. Jimin was lucky amongst them, as far as demi-gods went. He had intense, emotional power but he also had a goddess who loved him. Taehyung, on the other hand, had rarely seen his father since he had discovered what he truly was. It was hard having a father in charge of general celebration. It meant Dionysus was often called elsewhere, usually interrupting any father-son bonding time.

“Listen.” Seokjin rubbed his forehead. “You two are giving me an Athena-sized headache. Stop bickering and help Taehyung – his vines are out of control.”

Glancing at his hands, Taehyung realized Seokjin was correct. While he had been watching them argue, his vines had taken on a life of their own. They twined around his legs, the banister and sprouted large clusters of pomegranates (which, frankly, didn’t make any sense). Absently, Taehyung plucked one of them and took a large bite. Lately, he’d been very interested in pomegranates.

Clomping his way downstairs, Namjoon batted vines out of the way. “Are you going to clean this up before tonight?” he said to Taehyung, who nodded. To Seokjin, he added, “And watch what you say about my mother.”

“I was being literal!” Seokjin protested. “Your mom was literally born from Zeus’ mind, so obviously her birth was a headache. I don’t make the rules –”

“Thank the gods for that.”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

This last statement was exclaimed by Jimin, Seokjin and Namjoon combined. Abruptly, Jungkook turned around on his heel and exited the lobby. Once he was gone, some of the red dissipated from Jimin’s gaze.

He looked sympathetically at Taehyung. “Need help cleaning?” Jimin offered, laying a hand on the bannister. 

His touch instantly trimmed the vines, sending blossoming roses over the rest.

Taehyung wrinkled his nose. “This looks… somehow worse.”

“Sorry, man.” Jimin’s lips twitched. “My botanical powers only go so far.”

With a wave of his hand, Seokjin transformed the mess into neat, tidy rows of vines up the staircase. As the son of Demeter, he had the best grasp over all earthly elements.

“There.” Satisfied, Seokjin dusted both palms on his pants. He looked curiously at Taehyung. “You alright, man? Lately, your powers have been, uh…”

It was considered impolite to comment on another demi-god’s powers; hence why Seokjin trailed off at the end. 

Taehyung tilted his head. “They’ve been what, exactly?”

Seokjin seemed distinctly uncomfortable. “Off?”

“On the fritz,” said Jimin helpfully.

“Borderline chaotic,” Namjoon added.

Taehyung considered their input. “Borderline chaotic is kind of my nature, no?”

“Yes, but…” Namjoon shook his head. “Not like this.”

Chewing on his lip, Taehyung was forced to admit they were right. His powers had always been intense, but they were usually controlled. Despite the influence he exerted over others, Taehyung could never party or grow drunk on his own power. In his opinion, this was his great curse. No matter what Taehyung did, he always found himself the eye of the hurricane, the center of the storm. He could never lose himself in the relief he provided to others; could only watch while they did.

Lately though, his powers had changed. They were darker, less controlled and had a frustrated edge. Glancing down at the pomegranate he held in one hand, Taehyung saw the seeds were an ominous shade of dark purple.

“It’s because of Y/N,” Jungkook said as he entered the room.

Taehyung’s head snapped up.

Leaning his shoulder to the wall, Jungkook stared lazily back. Power crackled restlessly about him like thunder. 

“What?” He arched a brow. “You know I’m right.”

Though Taehyung’s lips parted, he had no response because Jungkook was correct. If Taehyung retraced his magic to the moment it changed, it was around the time he met you. Or, more accurately, it was around the time you rejected him. 

Taehyung’s stomach twisted.

“Who’s Y/N?” Namjoon asked, glancing between them.

Taehyung tried and failed to look casual. “No one.”

He could barely push the words past his lips, which prompted Namjoon to arch a brow. “Doesn’t seem like no one.”

“She is,” Taehyung muttered. “She wants nothing to do with me – rightfully so. Which means that she’s no one.”

“That seems harsh, Tae,” Seokjin chastised. “How do you know?”

His gaze softened looking at Taehyung. Taehyung was the youngest amongst them aside from Jungkook, so the other demi-gods felt the need to protect him. No one else thought to, thanks to Taehyung’s abilities but in him, the others saw their younger selves. His powers drained him so often and left him feeling exhausted from their personal nature.

When Taehyung said nothing more, Jungkook sighed. “Just the usual,” he said, a bit gentler. “The same girl came to a few of our parties. Taehyung liked her. His powers got out of control. When she tried to kiss him, he pulled his powers away and she freaked. Ran out of the party before he could explain.”

“What would I explain?” Taehyung said, unable to help himself. The vines at his feet withered and turned an unnatural shade of black. “Hey, sorry about that! I’m just the demi-god of parties and wine. You got too buzzed on my power, so I tried to pull back and return your free will. Wanna hang?”

Even Namjoon had no response, rubbing the back of his neck. “Or,” he suggested. “You could just apologize about the party and offer to buy her a coffee.”

Taehyung looked up. “That’s just a temporary fix, right? Eventually, I’ll have to tell her and – let’s face it – who would stay? I’ve seen what these powers do to my dad. I’ve seen what they did to his other children. It’s pointless to become attached to a mortal.”

Out of all Dionysus’s children, Taehyung was the only one currently living. Most had been famous throughout history – musicians and actors known more for their parties than the talent they had. Many died young, unable to cope with the effects of their powers. Taehyung knew it was smart to push you away, since he couldn’t control himself and his powers often proved lethal.

Still, a pang entered his stomach whenever he thought of you. Whenever he remembered the shape of your lips, the way that you smiled and the uncertain way your fingers curled in your sundress. You laughed in two ways when you talked. One was a quiet, self-conscious giggle, but other was Taehyung’s favorite. It was more of a snort than a laugh, granted whenever Taehyung said something particularly funny.

The memory of this made Taehyung’s heart twist and he swallowed, looking away from the others.

At the bottom of the stairs, Jimin seemed distressed by his pain. He probably was; oftentimes, Jimin confused other people’s emotions for his own.

“I’m sorry, Tae,” he said softly.

“S’alright,” Taehyung muttered, even though it wasn’t.

“Can I do anything to help?” Jimin brightened. “Want me to use my powers, or something?”

Jungkook looked at him in amazement. “Are you suggesting an orgy? Dude, this hardly seems like the time.”

Jimin glared. “That’s not all my powers are good for, you jackass. I can make people forget their troubles, you know. At least for a little while.”

The tips of his fingers glowed faintly pink and Jungkook glanced at his hands, thoroughly unnerved. Jimin’s power of persuasion extended beyond simply telling others what to do. He could make someone else feel happy, sad, tired or angry – a hefty power, although it wore off after awhile and wasn’t quite as good as the real thing.

Taehyung shook his head. “No, thanks. Appreciate the offer, though.”

“Anytime.”

As he climbed the stairs, Seokjin clapped Taehyung on the shoulder. “Sorry, man,” he mumbled, understanding the fear. Truly, they all did. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m gonna bake later if you wanna stop by.”

Taehyung smiled despite himself. If there was one earthly power which could cure his longing, it was Seokjin’s cookies. “Thanks, man.”

Shooting him a sympathetic look, Jungkook nodded and Jimin poked him hard in the ribs. “C’mon,” Jimin said, jerking his chin. “Let’s go help Hobi with his playlist before Seokjin pops a vein worrying.”

A giant grin stretched over Jungkook’s face, which the rest of them should have found worrisome. 

“Cool.” Head bobbing, he followed Jimin down the hall. “Yoongi showed me this great eastern European doom metal band. Gonna see if I can get Hobi to play it tonight.”

Jimin snorted, his voice growing softer the further away he got. “Get the demi-god of the sun to play doom metal? Good luck with that, man.”

“Maybe if I tell him Mariah Carey covered it.”

The sounds of their conversation faded to nothing, leaving Taehyung alone in the hall with Namjoon. Turning quickly, Taehyung attempted to leave but was halted in his descent by Namjoon clearing his throat. 

Slowly, Taehyung looked up at his friend.

Namjoon looked back. 

No one could stare quite like Namjoon. He had a piercing gaze, as though he saw every piece of your soul and was able to size you up to expectation. It made Taehyung wildly uncomfortable, as it did most people.

“You know you’re only a half god, right?” Namjoon tilted his head. “Part of you is also human.”

“I know.” Taehyung’s voice came out somewhat petulant, though he did not mean it to be.

Crossing both arms, Namjoon leaned a shoulder against the wall. His irises glowed the gentle gold of Athena. “It’s hard to control our powers,” he admitted. “It is, but there are difficulties in any relationship. Don’t give up on your own happiness.”

A wan smile crossed Taehyung’s lips. “Are the difficulties in most relationships that the guy semi-drugs his girlfriend whenever he loses control?”

Namjoon winced. “You don’t drug them.”

“Feels like it,” Taehyung muttered, glancing down.

“Their natural impulses are already there,” Namjoon pointed out. “Your presence at parties doesn’t make people drunk. People drinking makes people drunk. You only lower their inhibitions, call out their truth, give people the freedom inebriation gives without intoxication. You grant people their truest form – which is a gift, not a curse.”

Taehyung didn’t respond. He knew Namjoon was right, at least in part. Still, there existed within him a kernel of darkness he couldn’t control. His power was linked to such horror and melancholy; it was hard sometimes to see the light.

“Hey.” Namjoon took a step closer. His voice took on that maddening wisdom which came from the goddess. “We all have burdens. Humans do too, along with demi-gods. Our greatest strengths are often our greatest weaknesses. Someone who’s confident is prideful. Someone who’s humble? Inactive. Someone who rationalizes, often fails to empathize. It’s why relationships are necessary, Taehyung – they provide balance. You can’t simply close yourself off from the rest of the world.”

Taehyung’s gaze sharpened, looking up from the floor. The vines at his feet unfurled, reminding them that while Taehyung’s power was mostly parties and fun, there was a dark side of revelry which couldn’t be forgotten. Madness and misery emerged just as often as goodness when he called true selves forth.

“Okay.” Taehyung kept his voice level.

Seeing he wouldn’t budge on the matter, Namjoon sighed.

Truthfully, Taehyung heard his advice and longed to accept it, but found it too hard. It was difficult when his chest ached for you, when he couldn’t stop chastising himself for the moment you ran from his house.

Namjoon nodded and turned down the staircase. “Let me know if you need anything,” he called over his shoulder. “Gonna go and make sure Yoongi hasn’t turned the basement into another séance, or something.”

As he left, his footsteps growing quieter, Taehyung stared the sight of his retreating back. Uncertainty entered the pit of his stomach, wondering if perhaps Namjoon was right. The sanest to date Taehyung had felt was the past year in the house, living amongst others who understood what he was.

Maybe it was foolish of him to push you away.

As soon as he thought this, his phone chimed in his pocket. The sight of your name at the top of his screen sent his heart soaring, wondering if this coincidence was something he couldn’t ignore. Pushing blue-black hair from his eyes, he unlocked your text.

Y/N: hey. I just wanted to apologize for leaving so quickly. I think I drank too much, got carried away but… I really liked our conversation. Would you want to get coffee sometime? [4:15 PM]

Taehyung’s heart constricted, his hands trembled and before he could stop himself, he was responding.

Taehyung: yes, please. When?? [4:16 PM]

 Author’s Note: hey, I just got service at the hotel so I’m posting but I haven’t proof-read as much as I usually do! Please forgive any errors, I promise to read over it again in the coming days :) thank you!

↳ part of my AU drabble game

Greek Life!All + brainstorming fundraiser ideas for the frat

[namjoonchronicles]

hands | yg

↳ pairing yoongi, you

↳ genre drama, fluff, angst

↳ words 1.6k

↳ warnings car date nights, yoongi’s that husband who cook for his wife, student!reader, tw rape, tw depression

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A car pulls into a stop. It's still drizzling outside. The car door swung open, Vans set firm on the wet tar road to reveal a young men putting on his black hoodie as he got out. He caught a glimpse of a beautiful silhouette from the entrance, wearing the dress he likes, hair down and effortlessly flawless.

Skipping to his embrace, you greet like lovers do. His arms draped low around your waist, just above the curve of your bum while he presses his lips on yours, leaning down. He bites his smile when you part and you took a chance to kiss the corner of his mouth. It really has been awhile.

"How are the boys?" you climbed in and Yoongi took the food he packed for you from the backseat. You smiled at his meticulous effort, putting wet tissues in one of the bags, complete with toothbrush for after you've eaten. He knows you're going straight to bed when the date is over. Students aren't allowed to be out that late. Braised spicy tofu, hot rice and kimchi. The food are simple, but it made you feel very much at home. Ever since you began under-graduate school, you hadn't feel like you've been eating on time. And Yoongi knows this from all the brief calls he had with you when you're too tired to speak or when he's too tired to understand.

"They wanted to come but I figured that it will take more than an hour and they need to be in bed on time," Yoongi puffed his cheek, switching his attention to the street light right by your dorms. Then he twitches as if he remembered about something he needed to ask.

"How's class today?" He saw your cheeks bulging from shoving all the rice you can into your mouth and chuckled through his nose as he wipes the corners of your smudged lips with his sleeves, "Eat slowly, the rice is not running away." He fetches a bottle of water and twist them open for you. You collect them from his hand and took careful sips. Without realising, you have rice in your hair by accident and Yoongi picked that away from you.

"It was short. Starts around noon and ended before 5, it was about culture and ethnicity, pretty fun, I'd say," you talked with your mouth full, eyes glued to the food your husband brought, "Best thing about his class is that he celebrates opinions and we frequently have discussion about politic and religion..."

"Sounds like your kind of class, you'd have a blast," Yoongi tucked a lock of hair behind your ear as you ate. You nodded enthusiastically.

"Gosh I missed your cooking," you exasperatedly say, "The food here is dry, always the same thing. Fried rice, fried rice, and more fried rice. I'm thankful for any hints of food, truly, but please vary the choices."

"I thought you liked fried rice??" he cocked an eyebrow, wondering if he had lost parts of his wife in that devil-looking college. "I do, but only the ones you made. I have had a fried rice with a strand of hair, strand of red threads, egg shells in it, I'm like, never again...." the horror was real. Imagine coming home, hungry as a starved hyena and having to be okay with fried rice that are not at par with decent restaurant standards, despite being an actual restaurant. "And you ate them anyways," he concluded.

"You know me too well, it must be sorcery," you squint your eyes at him. "You don't give a fuck when you're hungry, I know that much," he shrugs, dragging a smile,"I remember that one time I saw your empty plate and you asked me if I wanted my fries. And when I said no, you drag my plate to your side."

"That was back when we're not even married yet, you remembered that?" you knitted your brows together. "I remember everything that involves you," he digs his tongue to cheek, knowing that he might have stirred something in you with those words.

Empty containers that came with food just minutes ago are empty and in the backseat where it belonged. After brushing your teeth, you returned to the car and heard Yoongi turning the radio on. Alina Baraz's Lavender & Velvet was playing softly. Yoongi continued talking about the ordeal he had to overcome without you, with the twins being rebellious, drawing on the walls with Yoongi's paints, breaking one of his chords, sleeping together in one bed.

"All three of you? In our bed?" You couldn't hide your astonishment. "They wanted a bedtime story so I figured why not have them sleeping here too because it gets lonely without you... Our first born snores, did you know that?" Yoongi leans his head back to the headrest, turning slightly to your side.

You mirrored him and after a few minutes of silence, and just the music from the radio filling in, you leaned to close the distance and gave him a chaste kiss.

When he gave you a questioning and flustered look, you said, "As in 'thank you for bringing me food, and coming over to see me so late in the night' and also 'for accepting me as I am, although I'm not much'..."

Yoongi propped an elbow and rested his chin on the heel of his palm.

"What happened," he drops his eyes down then to the side, "You were very quiet these days."

You squirmed in your seat for a bit but you know that you wouldn't be able to leave this car until you tell him exactly what has happened to you the last few days.

"A close friend told me that she was depressed and has been taking pills to treat that. Only 19," you started. Ever since you heard the whole story, it has been weighing you in, heavier than you've ever been. Getting a degree at 26 was one thing, finding out that your classmates are 19 is another. Age gap is nothing, that's what Yoongi told you. But listen to this.

"I asked her, what happened before she started drinking and smoking and just ruining her life in Foundation," pause, "She told me that she was running away from her past. A secret she kept from even her own family, that she was pregnant at 16."

Yoongi then find out that she got pregnant not because she was sexually active. But because her uncle took advantage of her gullibility. She was 16 when she found out she was pregnant and that she was 3 months in, with a baby she didn't want.

"And when she told me that, I just started crying... She told me with her back facing me because she was ashamed. Halfway through, I couldn't help but rubbed her back. I couldn't imagine the fear she faced. This brilliant girl, this beautiful brilliant girl with so much in her future, felt less than everyone else because she was no longer a virgin. And was robbed by a person she trusted."

"She kept the baby?" "No, she had an abortion at 3 months. She was about to sit for her college entrance exam. And she couldn't tell her parents because at the time, this uncle was from her mom's side. And at the time, her parents weren't doing very well. She was afraid that if she told them, it would break the family apart. It will give a bad impression towards her mother's family and her dad would have left her mom. She has other sibling needing care, as much as she did. And this girl, this stupid smart girl just felt responsible for everyone else, knowing that she needed the support just as much as others did."

You couldn't imagine the fear she faced. All she did alone. From the morning after it happened, to the day she goes through changes in her body because she was having a baby, to the moment she realised she was pregnant within the numbered days of an important exam, having to hide everything behind her parents. Just what was this girl thinking? Why was she so strong? She was just 16. She was just a baby.

From then onwards, you began to feel the air shifted between you and her.

"She made me found my heart," you wiped a tear that escaped your eyes, "I owe her so much. I hadn't cried, I hadn't sympathise anyone in awhile, and she just, the toughest blow is that she trusted me with the weight that she was carrying and I don't think I'll ever able to thank her my whole life. Like I didn't want to live until I found you and our boys, and she gave me more reason to stay, because I think I should take care of her too..."

Yoongi begins to understand the distance that happened between last week and today. It was like a coming-of-age movie, just that, this one is real. That was something about you. You carry other people's burden like your own, and you help them find comfort where it is absence. That's who you really are, the real you that you've been trying to hide, afraid of getting hurt again.

"Now I see her laughing, I wanted to hear it all the time," you sniffled, "Because there was a time where she couldn't. She told me once that all she wanted was to be accepted, and it all made sense now. That there was a time that she couldn't even accept herself. And I relate to that, and I want to make the world better for her, and I want to keep her safe. And I want her to live."

Yoongi offered his hand to be taken, laced with your fingers. He pulls them to his lips and stayed with you until you recovered.

Sometimes you don't need all the hands,  Sometimes you need just one.

. . . . . . I love you, and I care about you, and I've kept your secret. No one will know your name, but your stories will be heard. If you need to punch a man in the face, I'm only a text away. I got you.

[lalainajanes]

As One Wishes To Live (AKA Genie!Klaus). Read Part One here!

His new mistress – Caroline - had excused herself. Klaus hasn’t yet relaxed.

It’s a survival instinct.

Only two of his keepers had been awful from their first meeting. The rest feigned kindness only to grow into their cruelty once they realized just how much power they wield.

He expects Caroline will be the same. Oh, she seems sweet. Earnest. Stubborn too, enough to hold on to her principles for awhile. She’ll bend, like they all do. First, it’ll be little things, simple requests to save her time and effort. A “Klaus, could you mend this?’ followed by a please and a thank you.  

The requests never stay simple.

He’ll look for what weaknesses while he still has the freedom to.

He cannot hurt the one he belongs to, but he’s learned that rule is bendable. He can manipulate an owner into hurting themselves. He can do it with words, a hint here, an innocent observation there. Occasionally, the universe provides a lovely set of coincidences that Klaus merely can neatly steer a captor into. He’d once orchestrated a nasty carriage accident by keeping a whiskey glass full and producing a few coins to entice a barmaid into distracting a stable boy. Poor lad had rushed through his tasks, hadn’t noticed the wheel in desperate need of repair.

He’ll explore Caroline’s home over the next few days. Just in case. As long as he’s been locked in his lamp, all the objects he can’t name. It’s only logical that he be curious.

Caroline’s fairly young and obviously baffled by his presence in her home. She doesn’t seem stupid, which is a pity. The unintelligent are more demanding than the cunning but easier to manipulate.  She’d been flustered as she’d departed, her cheeks stained a bright pink. She’d promised she’d be right back, after she found him some clothes.

Klaus could have told her that if she wanted him clothed, he could conjure whatever she fancied. He’d served those who liked him to remain bare and accessible but most liked to dress him up. Some in clothing that marked him as a servant, others in finery that made him look like a prize. Klaus has long since stopped caring about what does, or doesn’t, cover his body.

He’d let her babble and flee. He’d wanted privacy to study his new home and he’d sensed Caroline had needed to collect herself. He could have denied her that, pressed his advantage, perhaps dropped the covering she’d insisted he don.

She’d fought it, kept her eyes on his, but she clearly finds his body appealing.  

He may have to use that but, for now, she hasn’t truly earned his ire.

Once she’d left Klaus had held still and listened carefully as she’d made her way up a single set of stairs. She’s rummaging now, still talking to herself. Exceptional senses are one of the perks of his curse. To cater to a master’s every whim he needs to hear calls when they are mere whispers.

Caroline’s home seems quite small and Klaus imagines he’ll be able to track Caroline’s movements easily. It’s nice enough, very clean and warm. There are an alarming number of objects that Klaus has never seen before, odd hums and beeps that he’s trying to ignore.

Much has changed in the ninety or so years he’d been dormant.

The chair she’d bid him to sit in had been plush and the fabric hadn’t scratched at his skin at all. A relief because he’s always more sensitive when he’s been stuck in his lamp, his skin feels thin and new each time he emerges.

Klaus eyes the window, squinting against the sun that’s streaming in. His head aches a bit. He takes a few steps, glancing behind him even as he reaches for the curtain.

Caroline had wanted him to be comfortable, hadn’t she? Shutting out the light will help.

If she complains, well, that will be a clue that perhaps she’s not as generous as she’s seemed.

Caroline’s got a stack of various pieces of men’s clothing – things stolen from exes or friends, even a random leather jacket that a disaster of a one-night stand had left behind. She knows exactly where the pile is, but she spends a solid ten minutes pushing things around in her closet, tidying and refolding to keep her hands busy while her mind whirls.

It’s useless because she’s not going to solve the issue of the genie she now apparently owns with a little stress cleaning.

It makes her feel better. Calmer.

Sort of.

When her hands have stopped shaking (and she’s done enough deep breathing that her face should be a normal color) she crouches and yanks out the plastic tote she needs. It’s been awhile since she’s had to add anything to it. Her extended period of singledom is the main reason Kat had so thoughtfully gifted Caroline the lamp (and Klaus, technically) but she’s reasonably sure she’ll find something that will fit her guest.

Whether he’ll like the clothes she’ll provide Caroline can’t guess. He’s been impressively inscrutable so far, not that Caroline can blame him.

It sounds like he’s known a lot of terrible people. The kind that won’t hesitate to pounce on a weakness and use it for their own gain.

She figures comfort is the way to go, digs a pair of grey sweats that had been Tyler’s from the very bottom of the tote. Klaus might be a bit taller but he’s leaner so hopefully that will make up the difference.   She grabs one of Stefan’s t-shirts that she hadn’t bothered to return (since he had about eight million, all identical and black) plus a blue hoodie Enzo has given up asking her to return.

She throws it all over her shoulder then snags a pair of the socks she uses for working out from her dresser. She makes a quick detour to the kitchen to grab her laptop and her phone off the charger before she returns to find Klaus where she’d left him. He’s pulled the curtains and he’s wandered over to the wall of shelves where she keeps her books and DVDs. He’s looking at one of the framed photographs that she’s got up, an old one.

“That’s the last family photo we took,” Caroline tells him. “I really hated that dress.” Black velvet, enormous lace collar. It had been a gift from Granny Forbes and Caroline had worn it exactly twice.

Klaus gently sets the frame back down turning to face her. His expression is just as smooth as it had been when he’d first greeted her, giving away nothing of his feelings. His eyes are on her though, not the floor. He’s sizing her up and Caroline can’t say she blames him.

She smiles, hopes he can’t tell that ten minutes away wasn’t nearly enough time for Caroline to stop freaking out internally.

None of the giant pile of what the fuckery they’re currently dealing with is Klaus’ fault. She doesn’t want him to feel like he’s unwelcome. It’s just good manners.

She sets her laptop down then holds out the clothing, “I dug these up for you. I know they’re not ideal but once your dressed we’ll look online and get you something a little more your style.”

“My style,” he repeats slowly.

“Yeah. I mean, if you’re a label snob like my friend Kat you’re going to need to embrace knock offs because my credit card can only take so much.”

He appears a bit mystified and Caroline wants to slap herself. “Oh, wait, sorry. How long have you been in…” she waves her hand towards the coffee table, his gold lamp. It’s entirely possible Klaus doesn’t know about the internet. Or even credit cards. Caroline has no idea when they became a thing.

His eyes follow her gesture and he takes a step back, so he’s nearly pressed against the bookcase.

She looks away, pretends not to notice. She studies the lamp, realizing that she’s only managed to polish a quarter sized spot on one side. That’s totally going to bother her.

Klaus doesn’t answer right away, doesn’t move much either. Caroline’s about to remind him that he doesn’t have to when he reaches for the bundle she holds. He pinches the fabric between his fingertips, tugging experimentally. “I can’t tell you exactly. It was… 1926, maybe. When my last mistress died. She called for me infrequently in the end. Her daughter thought to own me next. She was not happy to learn I cannot be inherited.”

“Is that the one who made her final wish on her death bed?”

“Yes.”

She’s really trying not to pry – he hasn’t had the chance to set his own boundaries for a freaking millennium so obviously she needs to reel in her curiosity – but it’s hard. What had the woman wished for? Could she have wished to not die? Can Klaus make people immortal? Would…

“Revenge,” Klaus murmurs, interrupting Caroline’s train of thought. “She had three daughters and her husband divorced her to get his male heir. He lied to get it, painted her as the adulterer then left her with barely enough money to live on. She wished that he would live to know his name would die with his son.”

That’s… wow.” Caroline’s a little impressed with the spite level. “Was she… good to you?”

“Better than most.”

With the switch back to vague answers, Caroline decides it’s best to change the subject. “Well, there’s going to be a lot of things we need to get you up to speed on. We’ll start with the practical.” She sits down, taps the top of her laptop. “This is a computer; it connects to the internet. The internet does a lot of things, some of them great, some of them super creepy. But it will allow us to get you a 21st century wardrobe delivered before the weekend.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

She shakes her head, tucking her legs underneath her as she boots up her laptop. “Look, I’m not going to make you go anywhere you don’t want to but I’m pretty sure eventually you’re going to get bored enough to want to go outside. And if you do it like that…” she wiggles her fingers in his direction, carefully not looking directly at the subtle ridge of muscle at his hips, “…questions will be asked. Cops might be called. We can’t rixk that until we’ve got a solid backstory and some supporting documents.”

She types “Casual Men’s Clothes” into google, figuring she’ll let him browse the images to see what he likes. Klaus clears his throat but it’s a theatrical kind of noise, an ‘ahem’ sound that’s never an accident.

Caroline holds in a sigh and looks up, mentally preparing herself to ignore all the distractingly bare skin, only to have her mouth drop open for an entirely different reason. Klaus is holding the clothes she’d given him but, on his body, he’s wearing something very similar. He’s switched up the colors – black sweats, dark red tee, grey hoodie – and everything fits like it was made for him.

Well. That’s handy.

“Oh,” she says dumbly. “You…”

“Am perfectly capable of clothing myself without assistance, yes.”

He’s smug about it and Caroline should find it annoying but, as it’s the first real hint of personality he’s shown, she’ll let it slide. “You weren’t kidding about the magic, huh?”

He grins, clearly pleased with himself. “Are you a believer now, love?”

The dimples are just as distracting as the hipbones, damn it.

Caroline focuses back on her laptop, tapping a few keys for no real reason. It’s not like he’ll know she’s typing nonsense. “I don’t think I have much of a choice.”

Klaus hums in acknowledgement, “Is this what men wear nowadays? I’ll admit it’s very comfortable.”

When she glances up she finds he’s adjusting the sleeves of the hoodie, pushing them up his forearms. “It’s a super casual example but yeah, you won’t get arrested if you walk outside like that. You’d get some looks if you tried to walk into a nice restaurant though.”

“I see. Can you show me?” he points at her laptop. “For when we venture out.”

“Sure. Internet window shopping is one of my very favorite things. Come sit.”

Caroline tips her head to the side and this time Klaus doesn’t need to be prompted further, settling down next to her. He jumps a little when she sets her computer on his lap and Caroline figures he hadn’t anticipated it would be warm. She points to the screen, “What do you like?”

He blinks at the twenty or so images for a long moment. He then leans closer. Caroline reaches over runs her finger over the trackpad. “Here, see that little white hand? If you want to see something close up just tap. Like this.”

He’s a quick study, his fingertip bumping into hers as he tries it for himself. She shows him how to scroll down and he mutters about how many choices there are. He glances at her every once in awhile, but Caroline makes it a point not to react.

Even if she had been paying for the clothes she wouldn’t have wanted to pick for him. Earlier, one oh his comments had made her feel a little sick to her stomach. His body, he’d said, so casually, was at her disposal. Caroline’s not naïve enough to think that had only meant he’d been treated like a life size Ken doll but she’s certain he’d been dressed up according to the whims of others for the bulk of his existence.

That’s over, Caroline’s decided. If he wants to wear cargo shorts and lumberjack flannel for the rest of his life that’s totally his call.

She touches his arm to get his attention. Klaus tenses, his body locking up so tightly that she can feel in even though a few inches of space separate them. She withdraws gingerly, easing over to give him more space.

She’s kind of a toucher. She’ll have to remember to curb the instinct with Klaus.

“I’ll just be in the kitchen, okay? I’ll order dinner.” And send a couple texts, plus an email to her boss. She’s so going to need a couple days to get acclimated but Klaus doesn’t need to know the details. “Come get me if you need anything.”

It’s a useless offer because Klaus won’t ask for a single thing. He doesn’t trust her even a little bit.

Convincing him that he can won’t be easy. Good thing Caroline’s always liked a challenge.

Klaus had risen as soon as he’d heard Caroline stir. He hadn’t rested well.

The bed Caroline had offered him is very comfortable. Too comfortable.

He’d tossed and turned, tried both sides. He’d quickly given up on sleeping, had risen once he’d heard Caroline’s breathing deepen enough to indicate that she wouldn’t wake easily. He’s slipped out of the room and downstairs, paced the rooms and the halls, going over all that he’s learned to far.

Last night Caroline had chattered away while she’d changed the sheets for him, told him that her mother was the one who most often stayed in the room but that it always took a great deal of cajoling for Caroline to convince her to visit. She’d grabbed him a toothbrush and towels. Had pointed out that red on the taps meant hot water and then asked if he had any questions about the shower. He’d just managed to avoid rolling his eyes because he has seen one before. Caroline had sensed his annoyance and cheerfully confessed that she’d done a quick bout of research on the history of indoor plumbing while they’d sat together after dinner but that she’d just wanted to make sure. She’d said that a hot shower always made her feel better after a rough day.

Klaus had thought about that statement once she’d left him alone. He wouldn’t have classified his day as rough, exactly. Bewildering perhaps, but the first day with a new master always is. He’s yet to sense any sort of sinister intent under Caroline’s solicitousness so either she’s a fantastically skilled actress or she’s genuine in her disgust for the curse he lives with.

The shower had been fantastic though.

He’s waiting in the kitchen when Caroline wanders in. Her hair’s half up and half down and she’s wrapped in a pink robe that’s far too large for her. She’s rather lovely, sleep mussed and stumbling. She gives him a little wave, “Morning. I need coffee.”

She yelps when the cup appears in her hand, drops it immediately. The glass shatters against the tile floor, hot coffee splattering her bare legs.

“Ow, ow, hot!”

Klaus is at her side in a blink, stilling her when she makes to step back. “You’ll cut yourself,” he scolds and then concentrates, clearing the mess away just as quickly as he’d created it.

Her eyes are wide, fully awake now as she pulls away. Klaus bends so he can sweep his hands over the reddened skin on her shins and ankles, taking away the mild burn. “What the hell was that?” she exclaims, her arms flapping wildly.

“You needed coffee.” He’s not going to explain the rest. Caroline’s sharp enough to make the necessary connections.

Her fingers twist the ends of the belt that wraps around her waist. Her outrage quiets slightly, “And if I need something you have to get it for me?”

Klaus conjures another cup, this time a sturdier vessel. He offers it instead of answering. Caroline glares, refusing to take it. “It’s just an expression! I don’t need coffee I just want it. And I am perfectly capable of making my own.”

He’s not about to confess that his curse means he must fulfill her wants too. Caroline had claimed decent people existed but no one – mortal or immortal - is immune to temptation. To know that every whim can be satisfied? Awfully enticing.

She spins away from him, stomping across the kitchen. She yanks a slim canister out of a cupboard, tucking it under her arm when she looks over at him, “Just so we’re clear, if I say ‘I need’ followed by a thing you’ll just poof it into my hands?”

Klaus nods in confirmation. He has no desire to explain that if he doesn’t provide for her he’ll feel a small twinge. That the twinge will grow into aches and stabs and bone grinding, suffocating pressure. That it will build and build and build until he gives in. Or until he collapses and then gives in.

It’s been a long time since he’s fought a master’s will but he’d done it often in the beginning, before he’d realized that open rebellion is pointless. The pain isn’t something he’ll ever forget.

Caroline’s got her back to him, her hands busy, and she’s quiet. Contemplative, he’ll say, because her eyes keep flitting his way. “I think we’re going to need to set some ground rules.”

Ah. Finally, something familiar.

How disappointing.

He doesn’t move, is sure his expression remains carefully pleasant. Caroline, somehow, manages to sense the downturn in his mood. She sighs, shoving the cup he’d made across the table towards him as she sits down. “Not like that,” she insists. “We’re not even going to call them rules. We need to agree on a few things.”

Klaus stays silent, wary. The worst people often had a gift for spinning pretty words to cover their worst actions.

“You do have a say, here. I wished that, remember?”

She’s wished for his honesty, his true thoughts and feelings. Klaus isn’t yet sure if she deserves them.

Drink…” her teeth come together with a snap and she shakes her head. “Sorry, I think I almost did it again. If you happen to like coffee, please feel free to drink the one you made.” Her brow wrinkles in concentration, her mouth moving and forming the same words she’d just spoken. She nods briskly, satisfied. “Was that okay? Didn’t trigger any bad genie mojo?”

He can risk a taste of honesty. To test her.

Klaus grasps the mug, lifts it to his lips. He sniffs experimentally, “I don’t remember if I like it or not.” He’d drunk it often centuries ago. He’d lived in Hamburg with a scientist who feared failure more than he desired rest. Klaus had spent hours upon hours transcribing notes, drinking coffee when prompted because his master, like most scientific types of the time, had thought magic preposterous. He hadn’t understood that Klaus didn’t need to fight sleep with stimulants.

She watches him, a pleased smile curling her lips. “Good?” she asks, as if she’s genuinely interested.

“I think so,” Klaus replies. He tries another mouthful.

It tastes better than he remembers but perhaps that’s because each sip is a choice.

Caroline panics when she hears keys in the door. She's been taking advantage of the pile of banked sick days she has, to deal with the whole genie situation. She'd sent her boss an email with a sob story about a killer bout of stomach flu. She's never done it before, feels a little bad about lying, but her excuse hasn’t been questioned.

One of the perks of being a kickass employee.

The truth would have gotten her locked up on a twenty-four-hour psych hold, and Caroline does not want to deal with that. Even if Klaus could probably break her out with his freaky magic stuff.

She’s sprawled out on the floor, catching up on her YouTube subscriptions. Klaus is on the couch – so far he’s yet to let his posture be less than flawless in her presence – reading a book. He’s not a fan of the television but he’s yet to object to having music on.

She shoves herself up onto her knees when she hears the door open, her eyes sweeping the room for anything that might invite questions. There’s nothing, thank god.

"Care?" Bonnie calls, "are you okay? I brought crackers and Gatorade!"

Ugh. She hadn't counted on her friends, and their keys to her place, screwing with her plans.

"Hide!" she hisses at Klaus. His eyes widen, face going blank. He nods once, harsh and jerky, before he immediately does his wispy smoky thing, dissipating before her eyes (and seriously, that’s never not going to be weird) leaving his lamp rattling.

She feels a stab of guilt, because she'd meant for him to go upstairs, having picked up on the revulsion and wariness he seemed to feel for the little metal vessel that had been his home and prison. It still sits on her coffee table; he makes a point not to touch it.  She'd been asking questions for the last few days, carefully teasing out his story.

Sometimes Klaus grows cold, his answers becoming monosyllabic. He's never refused to answer her inquiries, but she’s quick to change the subject when his words become slow and reluctant. She’s told him he doesn’t have to do anything; she suspects he doesn’t believe her. That he’s waiting for her to flip and start making demands.

Once she’d worked out that he was forced to follow her orders she’d asked what happened if he didn’t. He'd gone stiff when he'd imparted that knowledge, the words clipped as he refused to meet her eyes. She imagines he's tested the limits of the magic that traps him thoroughly, as stubborn and prideful as he seems to be. That whatever the punishment doled out is unbearable if he dreads it so deeply.

She’s vowed he’ll never hurt that way again but pain isn’t always physical.

She’ll have an apology to make.

Thinking quickly Caroline ruffles her hair, wraps herself in her afghan and slumps down on the couch. She tries to look miserable and queasy, planning on getting Bonnie to leave as soon as possible.

She's under no illusions that her friends won't have to meet Klaus eventually. She's just planning on easing them into it. Maybe mention that she's looking for a roommate, interview a couple candidates for show.

It'll give her time to make up a reasonable background story. Plus, Caroline needs a little more time for Klaus to get acclimated to the world, so he won't make her friends suspicious. So far things from the twenty-first century are hit and miss. He'd turned his nose up at the coffee she made, has continued to conjure his own. Caroline has to admit his is way better then what he machine drips out. Klaus does seem to like the internet. After he’d thoroughly investigated men’s clothing she’d taught him how to google things and he seems to enjoy that he can find information for himself instead of having to pester her when he there’s something he doesn’t understand.

She's going to need to prepare Klaus for Kat. She’s sure he can hold his own, has seen steel nerves and an implacable will under the deference he’s trained himself to exude, but she can't help feeling protective. Caroline has seen Kat cheerfully crush weak men under her stilettos, with merely biting words and a toss of her hair, not exerting the slightest effort. Kat will actually try if she thinks she's vetting a potential roommate of Caroline's.

The least she can do is spare Klaus the worst of that. Since she'd unwittingly made herself his mistress.

Yep, that’s still creepy. And a tiny bit hot in a way that makes Caroline want to fidget in shame.

She makes a show of struggling to sit up as Bonnie approaches, really makes it seem like it’s an effort to lift her head.

Apparently she’s pretty good at the fake sick thing, something that might have been useful back in high school. Bonnie doesn’t stay long, insists Caroline rest as she goes. Part of that might be how distracted she is, her mind too focused on Klaus. She's not even sure how she can get him out of the lamp, knows she’ll have to coax and grovel, that she can’t demand.

She'd read the little flash of betrayal in his eyes clearly, even though he'd masked it expertly. She doesn't want to see it again.

Klaus has no form inside his lamp.

Caroline had shown him a few episodes of a silly television show. He’d found it offensive, had glowered through parts of it – did humans really think such incompetence would be allowed? Klaus is quite sure the magic that punished him for disobedience would have torn the tiny blonde woman apart for her antics. Afterwards he’d admitted that he could understand Caroline’s initial reactions to his presence. He wonders if she thinks his lamp is like the television genie’s, bright and comfortable and strewn with cushions.

In truth, there’s nothing inside. He’s nothing inside. He’s only thoughts and emotions. His senses leave him, except for his hearing, and it’s dark. The longer he spends inside the harder it is to keep from drifting. Only the call of his owner can pull him back.

Inside, he’s not aware of time passing. He’s completely subject to another’s whims and he hates it.

He can hear Caroline, one of her friends outside. He listens eagerly, clings to the knowledge that if they’re talking he’s losing only minutes, not years.

The friend seems concerned. He learns that Caroline’s been faking an illness. Had she not trusted him enough to leave him to his own devices in her home?

Had she not known that she could banish him, as she’d just done?

Caroline whispers his name. He can’t tune her out.

If he’s honest he doesn’t want to. He’d preferred his cruelest master to the nothingness of his lamp and even if Caroline’s a liar he doubts she’ll take that title.

“I don’t know if you can hear me.”

She must touch the lamp because he gets a brief impression of warmth.

Too brief.

“I’m sorry.”

No one’s thought him worthy of an apology since he’d been human. Even then they’d been rare.

He listens to her breathing, quick and anxious. “I didn’t mean to make you go away. I’ve been trying so hard to choose my words carefully. And trust me, I suck at that. I just panicked.”

He thinks of how she’d looked in the moment she’d told him to hide. Her eyes had been round, her body tense. Usually graceful she’s moved in fits and starts.

Perhaps she’s not a liar.

“I haven’t told my friends about you because… well, they’d think I’d gone nuts. Elena would tell her mom and her mom would call my mom and the whole town would be whispering about me within the week. People from high school I don’t even like would start sending me faux concerned messages on Facebook hoping for more dirt.”

She pauses.

Klaus hopes she hasn’t gone.

Only because he hates the lamp, of course. The lack of awareness, the inability to exert even the smallest bit of his will. Having to depend on another to tether him. Never knowing when, even if, they’d release him.

“I meant hide literally. Like, hide upstairs in your room or even in the laundry room. Just out of sight. Not out of the house. Well, I guess you’re still in the house. Which I’m really glad about, by the way. Even though I know you’re pissed at me. Which is totally okay.”

He hears her groan and then her next words are muffled. “God, I sound like a moron.”

“I get it if you don’t want to talk to me. And if you come out you don’t have to talk to me. I can go out for awhile if you really want some you time. And you don’t have to come out. But, if you want to… Well, I’d appreciate it.”

Klaus concentrates, presses against the boundaries of the lamp. Leaving always burns a little but the relief of having a physical body again is greater than the discomfort. He rolls his shoulders once he’s upright and solid, waiting for Caroline to notice him. She’s got her eyes closed, her head in her hands.

His fingers twitch.

He cannot remember the last time he’d felt the desire to touch another person but Caroline tempts him.

Klaus reaches out, looping one of her blonde curls around his index finger. She gasps when he tugs, her hand grabbing at his. She’s quick to stutter an apology, to pull away.

This time Klaus chooses not to let her. He wraps her hand around her wrist, tugs until she stands. “Thank you,” he says. “For apologizing.”

Her throat moves, a nervous swallow that he easily hears. She seems to be having trouble looking at him, her blue eyes flitting away, landing on the lamp. “What if… can you destroy it?”

Oh, how he’s tried. Klaus shakes his head, “No, I can’t. It’s immune to my powers.”

Caroline’s eyes narrow, her head tipping to the side, “What if I wish for it?”

Klaus can only laugh, too startled to bother hiding his derision. “You’d waste another wish?”

He can’t see how she could possibly want to.

“Would getting rid of it hurt you?”

Not weaken him or take away his power. She’s worried about him hurting.

“Caroline. I think you fundamentally misunderstand the concept of wishes.”

She glares at him, “I’m going to ignore the fact that you kind of just called me stupid.”

“I didn’t phrase it quite that way.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re kind of annoying?”

It’s not a condemnation. She might even be teasing him.

“Not for a very long time.” His siblings had once expressed such sentiments. Rebekah sually in a pitched shriek of outrage, Kol with a shove that generally led to a scuffle.

“That’s a no, then? Destroying the lamp won’t hurt you?”

“Not if you wish it.”

“Good.” Caroline steps away, shaking off the light hold he’s maintained on her wrist. Klaus finds that he’s not overly fond of the distance between them now.

She’s still in a bit of a temper, carefully straightening her clothing and enunciates carefully, “I wish for this lamp,” she pauses then, reaching out to pick it up, cradling it in both hands, “to be destroyed, for it to never be remade or repaired, and for it’s whatever magic it holds to die.”

“Thorough,” Klaus murmurs. He hadn’t been wrong; his Caroline is clever.

She bends her knees, dipping into a brief curtsey, “I’ve been researching.”

“Are you sure this is your wish? Once made…”

“A wish cannot be unmade. Blah blah blah. Just freaking do it.”

He takes it from her, the first time he’s willingly touched it. He grips it tightly, until it burns his hands. It fights him, he shakes, but a master’s will cannot be subverted.

He’s panting when he’s done but the lamp is gone.

He’ll never lose himself inside it again.

He laughs again, this time with genuine joy.

Caroline fusses over him, drags him into the kitchen and turns on the cold water. She holds her hands under the stream.

He doesn’t tell her it’s useless, that he’ll heal well enough on his own.

He remembers wanting things once. A toy sword, bread his mother had just baked. Pigments from a travelling merchant. The heart of a girl who couldn’t decide if who deserved her love most.

Klaus had thought he’d forgotten how to want.

He hasn’t.

[obscure-sentimentalist]

for ya boi tate 2, 3, 10, 18, 30, 38, 44, 57, 64, 70, 80, 92, 100

For the original character asks

Oh, Tate, my sweet boy who wasn’t even supposed to be an original character, but evolved on his own and silently demanded that I tell his real story. He was entirely unanticipated, and now I can’t shut up about him.

Character context: Tate Merlyn, hailing from the being-reworked-and-written Distortion ‘verse. Tommy’s twin brother in a world where Malcolm decided to bring his young sons to the League of Assassins and train them for his own purposes. It takes many years for the brothers to get out, but they eventually settle back into Starling City, falling in with a certain vigilante operation and forming a tight-knit friendship (and later become roommates) with Felicity.

2. Do they like animals? Well, Tate doesn’t not like animals. However, the circumstances of his life didn’t give him a chance to have a pet, nor put him in contact with domestic animals often, and he never really let himself feel anything about that lack. At first impression, he’s ambivalent about animals.

But find him in a brighter future and give him a kitten to hold or a dog to run into on the street, and he’ll melt the second he makes eye-contact with them. Lots of soft, dopey smiles all around.

3. How do they dress? Ah, yes, a topic that honestly shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

Given that this is a universe where Malcolm is an even shittier father than in canon and has two sons who he’s shaped into his personal weapons from a young age, Tate doesn’t have a fashion sense for much of his life. When he isn’t in League uniform, his clothes are all black and gray, meant for utility and nothing more. The most he’ll allow himself is whatever excess warmth he can get from an old sweatshirt or hoodie, if one is on hand.

Even once he’s free enough to choose for himself, for a long time, Tate just… sticks with his wardrobe and its utter lack of character. Practical is fine, and it saves him time if he just grabs whatever’s in his drawer without looking--it’s about all the same, anyway. Why add another step?

It takes active intervention from Tommy and Felicity (and an incident involving a laundry mix-up) for Tate to start introducing more variety to his closet. He still opts for deeper, darker colors (more autumnal) for everyday wear, but at least it’s color. He’s also into flannels, though he has to be careful with any facial hair he might have, because he’ll make himself ripe for lumberjack-related playful mockery.

There are also plenty of warm sweaters and sweatshirts, because Tate loves being cozy, though the colors of those tend to lean on the lighter, softer end of the spectrum. He loves them, and over time begins to wear them more often than just around the house.

10. Do they have any nicknames? “Tater Tot.” There was no escaping that one, especially with a brother like Tommy. It’s often met with a fond “asshole” in reply, because these boys are such children.

He’s been called a few other silly things by those around him, though not quite to the level of a full-on nickname. Still, they’re often said quite lovingly, which fills Tate with a sort of warmth.

(He can’t say the same about the other names he’s gone by, so… he’ll take this.)

18. What flaws do they have? Tate’s biggest flaw is that he’s self-sacrificial as hell. It’s a character trait that sets up his whole role in the story, one that’s evolved painfully over time and the consequences of which are hooked deep in the narrative. Tate is just a dear, tragic boy whose attempts to protect and save his brother at the expense of himself go catastrophically wrong sometimes, and it takes him a very long time to unlearn that behavior.

Tate has plenty of other heavy-stuff flaws, but in more lighthearted terms… he can’t cook an edible meal, no matter how hard he tries. He can bake a little, if it’s just cookies or box-mix cake, and he’s a tea-making master, but any actual entree stands a fair chance of being toxic for human consumption. His archery skills are also abysmal--despite it being his father’s forte, and later surrounding himself with so many bow-wielding vigilantes--to the point where a plate of pancakes is more likely to be lethal than arrows fired by Tate. The people in his life lovingly refuse to let him live these foibles down.

30. What music do they enjoy? For the most part, Tate likes whatever songs make him happy, or simply jive with him. He’ll dig into some artists if more than a few of their tracks already appeal to him, but by and large he’ll rely on stumbling across individual songs that have a nice sound, no matter the genre.

He does tend to favor pieces that are more instrumental or have subtler, simpler vocals, though. It’s partially because that’s best suited to his quiet demeanor, and partially because lyrics are a bit of a tough spot for him, especially with more emotional, introspective songs. He can certainly appreciate well-crafted songwriting, but every once in a while a line will strike him in a particular, relatable way, and it makes him uncomfortable. Tate’s also a bit of an old man with a lot of top hits, grumbling about how he just wants some fun tunes, but here’s everyone talking about their bodies and other people’s and what they’re going to do with them, can he please just get songs about platonic affection every once in a while.

38. Are they the hero, or anti-hero? Definitely a hero, even though he won’t think of himself in those terms for a very long time, and his introduction in the present of the narrative--catching him at his lowest, darkest, most threatening point--sure doesn’t make it seem that way. His journey from that stage to the soft, heroic boy he becomes is messy and complex, but so meaningful.

44. How do they speak? Examples - Are they soft spoken, hot heated, vulgar Truly, my favorite part of this precious boy, the most defining Tate trait. He just… doesn’t speak much.

It’s not that he’s not good with words, or doesn’t pay much attention--Tate is pretty damn eloquent when he wants to be, and is observant to a fault. He’s merely incredibly selective with when and how he uses his words, which is a very distinctive contrast from Tommy’s frequent need to say something. Tate is fully capable of getting his point across with his body language and expression alone, or lets his brother do the talking for both of them.

To some extent, this is his nature, to be quiet and lean more into the nonverbal, but it was certainly exacerbated by the conditions he grew up under. In dealing with Malcolm and any sort of League business, Tate’s instinctive defense was to keep silent and speak only when expected--typically in response to or in clarification of orders. Quiet became less of something calming and wanted; and more of a necessity, a protection, a falling-in-line.

Tate may speak more often--not by much, but somewhat--in better times, but that’s because he feels comfortable and free enough to do so, and he’s leagues from being as talkative as Tommy. Still, even his silence is different, more expressive of his current mood instead of just serving as white noise, a smothering and muting of his feelings.

57. What do they do when they are happy? Tate is just a very tactile, huggy guy when he allows himself to be, and that often becomes particularly clear when he’s in a good mood. The happier he is, the more octopus-like he gets with his clinginess, but it’s sweet.

Either that, or he just dives head-first into his love of tea--making it, organizing his collection of it, buying more of it...

64. Do they like to dance? If he’s asked, Tate won’t answer that question--he’ll just silently raise his eyebrows and stare pointedly back at whoever brought it up. (If it’s Oliver or Roy, there’s another layer to the look, a clear returning of the question to them in challenge.)

The truth of it is yes, he does like to dance if the music and time are right, but he looks like a suburban dad at a barbecue when he does and he’s well aware of that fact. Better to act like he’s a townsperson from Footloose than hint that he even attempts to have a sense of rhythm.

70. Do they like themselves? Oof.

Tate… he’s done things. Granted, most of them were because he never actually had a choice unless he was willing to risk the consequences (if he was the assured sole recipient of them, he’d be more likely to; unfortunately, this was rarely ever the case, so Tate would fall in line for Tommy’s sake), but Tate is still accountable for how they went down. For as much as he can attribute his actions to trying to keep himself and his brother alive and free from as much harm as is avoidable, there’s still literal blood on his hands.

The thing that burns Tate the most, though, is the one decision he made of his own volition with the direct intention of hurting Tommy--again, for his safety, but that doesn’t make it any better. While the twins reconcile and rebuild their brotherhood even stronger than before, it’s still a blackened spot in their history even with the truth of it unraveled.

The question of whether or not Tate likes himself will be met with a vehement no for longer than anyone around him might expect, even as he gets more comfortable in his new life and knits himself into a group of people he can trust and who care. It’s recovery from the harm of the past, but Tate won’t feel comfortable in saying he likes himself until he figures out who that even is.

It’ll take time, but one day he’ll have a positive response.

80. How would they fare in a zombie apocalypse? Oh, Tate has the necessary skills down pretty darn well, knife expert ex-assassin and survivalist that he is. His biggest problem in that situation would just be the bitter frustration that he spent nearly 20 years of his life just trying to make it through a terrible situation, and he gets out only to be dumped into this? It’s another long fight for his life, which is disheartening for a guy who’s finally let himself admit that he just wants a chance to actually live. But he’ll handle it with grim determination, and hopefully with his brother at his side.

92. If they were given minutes to live, what would they do? Who would they want to see and say? Tate wouldn’t say much of anything here--he rarely ever needs words to express himself to the fullest.

Depending on the timeline--even solely focused on his better days--the number of people he’d want to see varies (thankfully, it grows as the years pass). But if he’s on a tight time limit and can only choose a few, then it’s without a doubt Tommy and Felicity. The three of them are the core found family (well, the twins are obviously twins, but still), the foundation of Tate’s life free of his father’s plans. And all Tate would want from his last minutes is to have the two of them present, to hold and be held in a tight group hug.

Tate is truly a simple man--just give him his people and a hug, and he can make peace with the situation.

100. Are they a day, or night person? Tough to say with Tate. For most of his life, he’d never really had that luxury--he’d be up at the asscrack of dawn or wide awake under the night sky depending on what was required of him. He’s adaptable by necessity.

But if we look to his better future… he’s still kind of middle-ground. He’ll generally be up at a reasonable definition of early in the morning, but also likes to take naps around the house when it’s particularly sunny and he’s not busy. Likewise, Tate will be fully alert at night for the amount of time he needs to be (whether it’s for crime-fighting-related activities, or just movie night), but will pass out the second he drops onto his bed, if he feels safe and comfortable enough with his surroundings to do so.

[queeniewriteshockey]

Dessert|| Part I|| T. Teravainen + Reader

Requested: No... Just me and my new obsession hanging out Word Count: 1,861 Warning: None - just fluff and more to come. 

Part II Part III

The wall is cold against your skin as you lean into it. The earbuds in your ear all but drown out all of the sounds coming from inside the arena. Before, you could hear the other team practicing, now it was more background noise than anything. The scrape of the ice under freshly sharpened blades is a sound you've always enjoyed, even when the team isn't one you work for. The thwack of the pucks hitting the boards and the glass are music to your ears, but you felt a little out of place, standing around listing to the opponent as they practiced.

The game wasn't for several more hours, but you were at the arena to let them in and to be on-site should there be anything they need. That was part of your job description. It wasn't a bad job, truthfully. You really liked what you did. You liked the team you worked for and the perks that came with the job. Some of those perks were getting to interact with teams you grew up watching and loving. You didn't always get to see the games, too busy running around making sure everything was going off without a hitch, but still, you had fun. It was a production and you were the director.

The screen of your phone flashes with images while you watched a game broadcasting from the east coast, it's nearly over, halfway through the third and not going the way you wanted it to. That wasn't the point, though. At least you get to watch a few hockey games while wandering around your arena, it wasn't like you were actually needed. You were simply there as an in case of an emergency kind of thing.

This was your routine when there was a home game. Let the team in, hangout until their practice was done, busying yourself with your work or hanging out in your office watching a game from across the country if there was one on. You didn't typically chill on the concourse or down in the locker area, only because it was hard to get signal. That and you didn't want to be accused of spying on the other team. Not that that was a thing, but you always worried. Some teams got a bit touchy about the opposition seeing them practice before the game.

It made your eyes roll, but you supposed you could understand it. You hadn't made it very far down the tunnel before you'd gotten distracted by the game you'd called up to watch. It was hard not to get sucked into a hockey game, and the fact that somehow your cell signal had no trouble through all the cement this time made it easy for you to pause and just... watch the game.

You're so plugged into the game blaring in your ears, you don't even notice the sounds on the ice have ceased. Perhaps you have the volume up too loud, perhaps you're too focused on the high-speed plays you're watching and the heart racing commentary that's being screamed into your ears. Whatever it is, you practically jump out of your skin when something, someone, taps you on the shoulder. You know you screamed, but you could barely hear it until you plucked the earbuds from your ears.

You heart races as you whirl around, mind screaming at you, make up wild scenarios, all not even remotely possible where you are. Overreact much? It takes more seconds than you would like to admit for the image of the person in front of you to catch up to your brain and you recognize that someone from the other team is standing in front of you.

He's tall on his skates and you have to look up to fully understand who you're looking at, it's not just a practice jersey with the eye of a storm in the center. His face is unobstructed by the helmet you're so used to seeing players wear, though the red line across his forehead tells you it's only recently been removed. His blonde hair is slick with sweat and pushed back from his face. It's not just any player from the opposing team, you know who you're staring at - Teuvo Teravainen. You do your best to feign indifference as your heart starts to race for another reason. You may or may not have a few of his jerseys in your collection of hockey memorabilia. You weren't about to fess up to the truth.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he says just before his lips press into a thin line and his bright blue eyes dip down at the corners. The apology is as clear as the eyes that look at you. His accent is thick but it's smooth and his words are honest.

"You didn't," you lie. It's a lie neither of you believes if the skeptical look that's being reflected at you through those blue eyes was anything to go by. Even if you hadn't done your best imitation of a damsel about to be killed in the latest cheesy horror flick, your pulse was moving faster than a hockey puck shot across the ice. "Okay, maybe you did... A little. That's what I get for not paying attention."

You stuff the phone in your team hoodie pocket, the earbuds following suit. You're technically out of uniform for your line of work but at this moment you hardly care. It's early and cold down in the tunnel. The sweatshirt covers your suit pants and blouse making you look like a strange mashup of a professional and a straight-up hockey fan.

"What can I help you with?" You ask in your most professional voice. You do your best to ignore the heat that's started to creep up your neck as the embarrassment of the situation finally settles between your shoulder blades. First impressions are always something you pride yourself on, this was not an impression you wanted to leave on anyone, let alone this someone.

"I, uh," his lips press together again, a habit you've noticed throughout the games you've watched, he does when he's looking for a word in a language still very much foreign to him. "The puck broke the glass."

A smile spreads across your lips wide enough that your eyes crinkle at the corners and your top teeth bite softly into your bottom lip. "Oh, that's exciting!" You tell him honestly. It's a pain in the ass, as everyone knows, but it always gave you a weird rush of joy to see that happen. "Did you break it or was it someone else on the team?" It's not meant as a tease, more wondering who you should be impressed with, but you're pretty sure he thinks you're teasing him if the blush that creeps over his pale cheeks is anything to go by.

"I did it," he admits, "I'm sorry." And he truly looks it.

You do your best to wave off the apology, truly there is nothing to be sorry for. It's a piece of glass being hit with hard rubber biscuits at speeds that cops would pull drivers over for. It's a wonder more glass doesn't break. "I can get maintenance to get that fixed right up, don't even worry about it. Give me a few minutes, yeah?"

"Thank you," he says, his smile matching yours. It's the first smile you've seen from him since he walked up and scared the shit out of you. He's got a nice smile, you think, though not for the first time. "And uh, I'm sorry for scaring you, honestly"

Your smile softens almost instantly and you feel the warmth of a blush creep up again. "It's fine, seriously. You're not nearly as scary as the game I was watching."

"What game?" He asks because of course, he has to ask.

"Uh," you say, top teeth worrying into your bottom lip. "Just, an eastern conference game. I'm from back east so... I try to keep up with the teams."

"Who were you rooting for?" He asks, clearly still interested in what you were watching.

"Not the team that was winning," you say honestly.

"Who was losing?" He knows you're dancing around the answers, likely sure you're trying not to admit that you root for a team that wasn't the one you worked for.  

You sigh softly and pull your phone out of your pocket and open the screen. The score is 3-2 Flyers over Maple Leafs and you gasp. "Holy shit," you say staring at the score, "they won! You made me miss it!" You turn your phone around to show him the score, but you're kind of laughing. Of fucking course, your shit team finds a way to pull a win out of their ass when you aren't watching.

"I'm very sorry," he says again. It's the second or third time he's apologized to you in the span of the maybe ten minutes the two of you have been standing there talking. He didn't make you miss it, even if he kind of did. You'd missed most of the game before you'd tuned in anyway.  "You should let me make it up to you."

Your laugh dies softly on your lips and your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline. "Oh yeah?" you say, a smirk growing at the corning of your lips, "How do you plan on doing that?"

"Dessert" he offers, "after the game, perhaps. As an apology for bothering you."

He hadn't bothered you, not really, but you're certainly not going to say no to a sweet treat. "Yeah, okay. I mean," you roll your eyes a little, the smirk on your lips growing,  "it's the least you can do. It's not every day the Flyers actually win and I did miss it because of you." You're joking. The grin on your lips tells him so. It's kind of fun being playful with a member of your team's opposition.

"That's very true. Winning isn't what they're known for," he says with a laugh. If others had said that, it would have needled you, but it didn't bother you coming from him, not when coupled with the dimples on his cheek and the light shining from his eyes.

"Let me go get maintenance to fix the glass and we can finalize our plans, yeah? I know just the place you can take me." Your grin is big and bright, you don't even bother trying to hide your pleasure at the turn the conversation had taken.

"Sure! Oh, I'm Teuvo, by the way," he says extending his hand out to you.

"I know," you tell him with a smile, "I'm Y/N. I'll be right back."

It takes you a moment to excuse yourself from his gaze but once you have, you're on your way to locating Chuck, your resident handyman. He'll be able to fix the glass and get the rink back to snuff so that the rest of the Hurricanes practice can continue without a hitch. If you're a little distracted by the idea of going to dinner with Teuvo, well, no one needs to know that, right?

[heave-hyung]

a fic for jimin's scat/gas headcanons would be great too! like hes been feeling bad all day and gassy and tries holding it in but hoseok notices his discomfort and pulls him into his lap and rubs jimins belly and jimin lets go involuntarily and even messes himself a bit but hoseok and the boys reassure him jts okay and take care of him

    A/N: After a long, long time of waiting…I finally present you with the first part of Jimin’s IBS saga. Finally. I figured this request fit well for the beginning of it all! I picture this being somewhere within their first like, year of debut–they’re already very close, but Jimin’s been able to hide it thus far until this incident, if that makes sense…I dunno, I think it fits. Anyway. Here you go, guys! :))) 

   Jimin’s has always been a sucker for cuddles.

    That’s what had gotten him into such a mess.

    He should’ve known that his wishful thinking would come and bite him in the ass someday–but, even knowing that, he wouldn’t ever truly be prepared for the first time the band would witness something of an episode.

    He honestly forgets that he was ever diagnosed with IBS sometimes–the symptoms disappear every now and then, and it’s like pure bliss to be free from it. But it always comes back, and it makes him realize that, despite Disney’s claims, dreams do not always come true.

    One of the first things the other members learned about Jimin was his affinity for physical touch. They’d quickly picked up on how he’d sit closer rather than farther to another member on the couch, how he’d slap thighs or cling to someone when he laughed, how he’d hug for a little longer than some other people would and enjoyed being in close proximity with them whenever he could. This wasn’t a trait Jimin ever really tried to hide; it was a subconscious habit, to take every opportunity he could to be close to another member.

    He was really regretting that lack of effort towards keeping it contained.

    Sitting in Hoseok’s lap felt like a total death wish. He didn’t have the heart to protest his hyung so openly trying to love him, so he nodded awkwardly and just let Hoseok do his thing. Hoseok could hear his stomach gurgling; clearly the younger boy had an upset belly. At first, the group had collectively thought he was just tired, especially because he seemed too out of it to notice that they were whispering theories when they had the chance to. And then the idea that he might be stressed came up, the idea that he was sick, the idea that he was overworked, the idea that he was dehydrated, and they’d all became deeply concerned.

    It was clear on their faces. Even with how much pain he may have been in, Jimin still had the capacity to notice this. And he felt guilty; very guilty. The fact that his bandmates got so worried–clearly cared for him so much–made it impossible to deny Hoseok’s cuddling.

    Jimin realized he was screwed when his stomach really reminded him that it would also be impossible to keep himself contained for any longer than a few minutes. Though the others were all immersed heavily in some type of card game Jimin hadn’t payed enough attention to to remember the name of, they all shot worried glances in his direction. He and Hoseok were on the side, the only two looking on instead of participating, so it was natural for the eye to stray to the outlier.

    The others thought he just had a stomach ache, or that he just felt sick; it wouldn’t be the first time Jimin’s gotten sick around them. And it wasn’t like he’d never farted in front of them before. But this…was different. He really didn’t know how he’d managed to hide it for so long–there was a nagging fear in the back of his mind that said his streak might end. Still, he’d managed to hold onto some hope that he’d manage to survive another day, even if it was a very minimal amount.

    It wasn’t long after that he’d given up hope altogether; Hoseok had moved a hand down to Jimin’s bloated stomach, rubbing gentle circles. He was done for. The new pressure really wasn’t helping his case.

    Still, when Hoseok asked him, “is this helping at all?” He responded with a shaky nod. It was relieving some pain, so it wasn’t entirely a lie. He shifted a bit and clenched as tight as he could; chills rushed through his frame. Even though nothing had happened yet, Jimin was already flushing a noticeable amount–this only sparked the others’ concern.

    “You good, Jimin?” Namjoon asked, watching him worriedly. Jimin nodded again. Jin, who was sitting closest to Jimin, leaned back to check his temperature; there was no fever. The oldest member’s look was relieved, but his brows still furrowed in confusion. No fever, but a flush; upset stomach, but it didn’t seem like he was nauseous. Jin had seen him sick before; this wasn’t it.

    So what was it?

    Hoseok pressed a couple of chaste kisses to his neck, hoping to provide some sort of comfort to the seemingly unexplained stomach pain. The others kept talking, knowing that putting all the spotlight on the oldest maknae might make things worse.

    Namjoon kept his gaze on Jimin for a moment, before sighing. “If something’s wrong, you know you can tell us. Anything at all.”

    “I-I know,” Jimin stuttered out, ducking his head. He hated how shaky his voice sounded. It really wasn’t that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things–why did it bother him so much? His stomach burbled harshly under Hoseok’s fingertips; experimentally, Hoseok decided to press a bit harder.

    That did him in instantly. The second the older man applied that pressure, Jimin yelped, gaining the attention of all six of the others at once; and, as fate would have it, the moment all eyes were on him, a loud, bubbling fart that only went to show just how upset his stomach was escaped him. Jimin whined low in his throat once he’d realized exactly what had happened, and he instinctively clung tighter to Hoseok, burying his face in the crook of the older man’s neck. Hoseok chuckled softly, immensely relieved that the problem was just a bit of gas. “Silly Jiminie, you don’t need to be so embarrassed,” he cooed, running his other hand down Jimin’s spine. Though Jimin couldn’t see it, a look of relief and understanding flooded over the others’ faces, everyone glad that the problem was something so minor.

    Of course, they had no idea what the cause of this was, but it wasn’t anything major–he wasn’t sick, it wasn’t a stomach bug, he wasn’t dying. Embarrassment and a hefty amount of gas were much, much easier to handle than any of the above.    

Jimin mumbled something, but Hoseok couldn’t make out what he said–it was a reasonable assumption to say that it was some kind of protest to the situation. Hoseok still kept consistent pressure on his middle anyway, knowing the younger man would never let anything out on his own accord. There was no point in scampering off to his room and hiding; the issue was out in the open. Another bassy fart escaped him, and another, everything he’d been bottling up all day coming out in what quickly became a near constant stream of impressive gas.

    Namjoon reached over to ruffle Jimin’s hair, the next to say something in comfort, “Relax, it’s natural. Would’ve thought you’d learn that by now, living with me–oh, and Jungkook, Jungkook’s pretty bad too–”    

The maknae kicked Namjoon in the shin. Jimin giggled softly–that was progress.   

It was just as Jimin had somewhat come to terms with the situation that it got worse.

    A lot worse.

    Jimin was just about to thank the others for being so kind, but when he opened his mouth, he was quickly cut off by another fart. Except this one was wetter–much wetter. His eyes widened, and he paled drastically, the crimson tint his cheeks had taken on becoming twice as visible with the stark contrast. Without saying a word, Jimin stood, and rushed off to the bathroom.

    Hoseok blinked, not expecting that. They sat silently for a moment.

    “Should someone go check on him?” Taehyung asked. Jin was clearly fighting the instinct to have done just that.

    “Give him a minute,” Yoongi spoke.

    “Poor kid…” Hoseok mumbled, staring in the direction of the bathroom.     “I wonder what upset his stomach so bad…” Taehyung vocalized the same thought that all six of them were having. None of them liked seeing Jimin so upset, especially over something he couldn’t control. Considering that it couldn’t have been a stomach bug, the most likely explanation was that it was something he ate–right? There was no other reason. Maybe stress–but stress wouldn’t typically do that.

    Jin stood after a moment of silence. “I’m going to get him comfortable clothes. Pants, underwear.”

    Yoongi followed suit, “I’ll grab him a water bottle.”

    “I’ll go grab blankets and pillows so we can all cuddle out here,” Tae suggested, and Jungkook and Namjoon joined him in that, leaving Hoseok on watch in the living room for when Jimin returns. By the time Jimin did finally leave the bathroom, clad in one of Namjoon’s baggy hoodies and sweatpants, the boys had a whole setup for cuddling in the living room. More blankets than anyone would need, a bunch of pillows, couches draped in comforters.

    All six of them immediately felt the need to tackle Jimin with hugs and cuddles and love upon seeing him–he was still pale in the face, shaky, and he was wiping away tears with sweater-paws. He kept his gaze down; his blush remained. He sniffled softly–it didn’t help that his stomach still wasn’t happy. Jimin stood still for a moment before looking up, still not meeting anyone’s gaze.    “I’m sorry,” Jimin choked out.

    A whole chorus of, “no, it’s not your fault,” “don’t be sorry, you can’t help it,” “you poor thing, I’m sorry,” quickly followed his apology. Jimin almost started sobbing again (like he had been in the bathroom prior) at the sheer kindness of his bandmates. He curled up on Hoseok’s lap again, and the rapper held him close, rocking him gently. Tae sat on the other side of him, playing with his hair–Jin ran a comforting hand up and down his spine.     Once Jimin’s tears had slowed to a stop and he seemed to have calmed down, Jin felt the need to ask, “what’s got your belly so upset, hm? Was it something you ate, do you think…?” He wanted to make sure to take all measures he could in order to stop another incident from happening.

    Jimin froze. He debated on if he should give an explanation or not–on if he wanted to admit to his condition just yet–but he ultimately decided against it. He’d take better precautions to make sure he’d be able to hide further flare-ups just as he had been, and then it’d never be brought up again. Foolproof plan, right?

    So he just shrugged in response.

    Jin sighed softly; neither he nor any of the others liked the idea of there being a chance this would happen again. Regardless, if Jimin ever did get like this, there was no doubt in any of their minds that they’d be there to care for him anyway. They’d always care for him in any time of need–they’d planned on being there to give him all the love and belly rubs he needed for that night–since his stomach was still a bit upset and he still had a bit of gas–and any night he’d need it again.

    “We love you so much,” Jin reassured.

     “The amount of times you fart on my lap won’t change that,” Hoseok teased, laughing. “You’re still cute even when you’re gassy…our gassy little baby.~”

Jimin whined and pouted at Hoseok, who kissed him gingerly on the cheek. He was glad that he at least had the best bandmates in the world to coddle him; still, as much as he liked the attention, he was dedicated to the idea that he’d never let this happen again.

   “I love you guys, too.” It was true. Especially in that moment, he loved his bandmates more than anything else in the world.

[garyofrivia]

a few Modern!Gang college AU headcanons!!!!!

not that anyone asked!!! and this has probably been done already!! but i’m bored at work so :/ i’m so sorry 

Arthur:

graphic design major, creative writing minor

took a photography class to impress that cute albert boy from down the hall and worked extra hard all semester just to end up accidentally telling his advisor that he wanted to double minor in photography as well

Tired™

he’s def one of those students that can fall asleep a n y w h e r e on campus

has a sleeve tattoo and is working on a second ;;;)))

he doesn’t party often, but when he does, the entire fire department and 7 cop cars show up by the end of the night to break it up

there was a rumor his sophomore year that he beat up 5 frat dudes at once during rush week for harassing girls and no one has heard of any issues from that frat since

is banned from the local chili’s for dining and dashing

shoplifts chef boyardee, microwavable ramen, and snickers bars from the student center convenience store to Survive

Charles:

environmental studies major

is in 50000000 activist clubs

regularly punches racist white boys w/ maga merch in the dorm common rooms and when the RA saw one time he didn’t do jack shit bc…. he right

he’s never procrastinated an assignment in his life

studies until 5 am every night but? still wakes up at the crack of dawn to go to the gym????

works part time as a barista at a hole in the wall coffee shop/bookstore and is 100% a coffee snob

doesn’t smoke but knows every weed dealer on campus, mostly bc they’re all enviro studies majors

his roommate thinks he’s a myth bc he’s never there or is just super quiet, but rly he just Minds His Damn Business

can be seen reading for leisure on the quad when it’s sunny and warm

Dutch:

political science major, philosophy minor

arthur and hosea are his friends from high school and they’re the only ones that can tolerate his mood when he goes on Insane procrastination benders where he’s trying to write 4 essays in a single night on a fuck ton of adderall and energy drinks

frequently goes on rants while studying in the student center about capitalism and it somehow always results in him on top of a table, yelling about ronald reagan

it gets Annoying when he talks about ancient greece, which is… constantly..

has 4 girlfriends and 3 boyfriends but still has time to participate in debate team every saturday

accidentally incited a student labor strike on campus one time and the cafeteria wasn’t functional for a week

started 6 clubs, but never goes to meetings and can’t remember what literally any of them are for

doesn’t work at all but somehow? always has money??? like he pays for his friends’ dinners all the time?? how??????

Hosea:

graduate economics student

he’s that cool TA in a super hard class that sends the prof’s tests from previous semesters to all the students so they can study for the final

Constantly in the library reading/studying/tutoring

still lives on campus for some reason and pirates textbook pdfs out of his dorm room

has a 4.2 gpa, but acts like he’s never been to a single class in his life

gets high all the time and talks about moving to europe on a whim and is *THIS* close to just fuckign doin it

makes his own kombucha

when he can’t sleep bc of test anxiety he rambles to arthur and dutch until the wee hours of the morn about existentialism and how great the beatles were

is responsible for multiple people discovering they have a daddy kink despite not having one himself

John:

undecided major (communications maybe, but he hasn’t found his “passion” yet)

failed freshman english twice for just not showing up to class

drives one of those old subarus from the 90’s and does donuts in the student lot when it snows

has a CD collection from his Emo™ days in the glove box and pops one in every now and then when he’s alone and feelin’ nostalgic/sad

skateboards to class and usually almost runs over a bunch of people since he always has headphones on

death note is his favorite anime

that One Room on your hall that is ALWAYS playing loud ass music until 3am

is surprisingly really good at math and tries to help tutor his friends but gets frustrated when they don’t understand “basic” calculus on the first try

his favorite hobby is harassing the ducks on campus and has made enemies of multiple geese

Sadie:

criminology major

plays intramural sports, probably volleyball and softball

everyone’s Jock Girlfriend they wished they had but are too afraid to talk to bc she might snap someone’s neck if they look at her wrong

wears leather jackets and aviators for every occasion

one time gave a monologue about sexism in her political theory class after not saying anything for the entire semester and her professor was moved to tears

has a lot of friends but only a few are ride or die babey!!!!!!!! (it’s arthur, charles, and abigail and they bully john together)

knows a lot about cars and ppl pay her to fix theirs since college kids usually can’t afford to go to a garage

speaks german because she got bored one summer and taught herself a fucking language i guess

Sean:

french major (????why is he like that???)

he says he’s studying a different language because the thinks it’ll make him hotter, but really it’s because he fantasises about moving away one day to start a new life

always says how college isn’t really for him and is .2 seconds away from dropping out

hangs out with john a little too much for his own good and once broke his wrist while trying his skateboard

“hey, have you heard of [insert incredibly obscure punk rock band name here]?”

gets blackout drunk every weekend and keeps a journal for the sole purpose of documenting the various places he’s woken up

wears stupid beanies and owns one (1) hoodie that he wears year round

quotes memes out loud to be able to communicate his emotions effectively

a ~Film Hoe~

also………. he vapes

Javier:

international studies major, finance minor

studied abroad in spain and almost didn’t come back bc he loved it so much

plans to get mega rich so he can travel Everywhere

um,,, he loves classic lit and owns an entire library full of it

took a gap year after high school to tour with his band and kinda became a lil famous so that’s cool

runs a thirst trap instagram acct and models part time ;)

every single person that encounters him has been attracted to him in one way or another and they truly don’t even question it

he’s a major mama’s boy and she visits him all the time

he rooms with sean who drives him insane but they have similar music tastes and were able to bond over that

they get rowdy on saturdays but has his (few) friends over on sundays for a “family dinner”

Bill:

computer science major

used to play COD competitively and wants to get into videya game development

seems like kind of an idiot when he asks questions in class but his grades show that he’s smarter than he looks

did ROTC for the tuition money but dropped as soon as he found out that you have to enlist after you graduate lmao

southern angery boi that drives a pickup truck and hosts tailgates every single football game

has a bunch of dudebro friends that he hangs out with due to societal pressure, but all he wants to do is bake some cookies

his roommate was scared of him at first but when he bought him a lil gift for christmas before break, he realized that he was a big ole softie

is late to class bc he spends 65943598 years on his hair in the morning even though it literally never looks different

Lenny:

english major, applying to the education masters degree program

he wants to be a high school english teacher fuck me up!!!!!!

was super homesick when he first moved away :( 

writes his friends papers for them sometimes even though he’s killing himself with his own schoolwork

netflix binges and video game benders are regular weekend activities and he’s been known to not move from his chair for 15 hours at a time

runs an avengers stan blog and cried at comic con when he met robert downey jr

begged the manager at the local comic book store for a job and the guy was just like “yeah, kid literally just apply online idc”

has lots of friends that rope him into doing hooligan shit instead of study

is a giant ball of anxiety for the majority of the semester and is just,, Trying His Best

Micah:

he was the maga kid that charles knocked out the first week of classes

[imightbeapotatobutihavestandards]

He’s Hurting Me

So this was an idea for a fic that I’ve had for a while, I wanted to post it once I’d written everything... but since Article 13/11 are going to be passed soon and will try to ban me from being creative and posting any fanfiction or fanart, I wanted to post what I’d done... and hopefully finish it.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 

Summary: Patton, Roman, Logan and Virgil have been all been friends since high school, and though an unlikely group they’ve been with each other through everything. Now, they’re all adults, with jobs and responsibilities, but they’re still close. Though recently Patton’s been becoming more distant... While Patton faces struggles of his own in the present, every other chapter jumps back to the past and explains what the group has overcome, together. 

Based very very loosely on the song He’s Hurting Me by Maria Mena

Pairings: Prinxiety, lil’ bit of logicality... the ships are more in the background 

Warnings: None in this chapter, just a quick movie night with the bois

Part 1

Patton sat with his back leaning against the couch, one leg crossing over the other at the knee. He sighed deeply. He was so tired. He lightly pushed himself up, curling his legs up so he was sat cross-legged, and moved his glasses so he could rub his eyes with the heels of his hands. He pushed his hands to his head, running his fingers through his hair and glancing back up at the TV. It had been his turn to choose the movie this time, and he’d decided that after a long day at work, he wanted something light-hearted, so he’d chosen Tangled. Roman had been more than happy with his choice, immediately dashing over to his overwhelming collection of Disney films and finding it with ease.

Patton glanced behind him, looking onto the couch; Logan was to his left, sitting like a normal person, legs hanging over the edge of the couch, arm on the arm rest, even his posture remained impressive. Roman and Virgil… not so much. They were a mess of limbs, it was difficult to tell who was what, especially in the darkness of the room, but Patton was fairly sure Virgil was curled into Roman’s lap, the younger man’s legs pressing against Roman’s stomach. One of Roman’s arms was hooked around his boyfriend’s waist, the other was resting on his legs, occasionally moving in slow circles over Virgil’s knee. Patton noticed, as well, one of Virgil’s arms was draped across Roman’s shoulders, his hand resting in the other’s hair, ruffling it lightly. Both of them were intently focused on the movie, and Patton couldn’t help but smile gently. He was so proud, and happy for them, that they’d stayed together as long as they had, and that they still seemed as happy as they were at the start. Sure they fought, a lot, but it wasn’t normal people fighting, in fact, it wasn’t even fighting.

They were both polar opposites, Roman’s loud outgoing personality completely juxtaposing Virgil’s timid, introverted nature, they were destined to argue. And they did. Frequently. But it always felt like more of joke, they never seemed to be serious.

Patton was sure they must have had disputes, real disputes, where they questioned whether it was worth continuing, but they never let that side of them show. The worst argument he’d seen them have was over pineapple on pizza (“It doesn’t belong there Roman!”/”WHERE IS YOUR SENSE OF ADVENTURE VIGRIL?!”) But all couples fought, it was normal. It was always scary. It always left you feeling like a hurricane inside. But you always realise how much they mean to you in the end. Patton was sure that happened to them too. And they always seemed so loving, and caring, and...right together. It gave him, well, hope. In a sense. The amount of care, trust, and love in their relationship, was something he aspired to. His relationship wasn’t quite at that level yet, but it hadn’t been going on for nearly as long, so he couldn’t expect that.

Patton got lost in thought again, he thought about all the things Virgil and Roman had gone through, how much they had changed, and how much they hadn’t. It was the same for all four of them. They had grown so much, changed so much, adapted, in a way, but they were still here, together, in complete happiness, watching Disney films together. Even this, their movie night tradition hadn’t changed, even if they usually had to ditch the onesies. Patton was slightly downcast at that, but he understood; every Friday, everyone would come straight from work, round Roman’s (and Virgil’s) and they’d chat, mess around, and watch a film. It became difficult to always bring onesies, not to mention driving home in one was unacceptable for Logan, so he’d only bring his if he planned on sleeping round. It was funny, thinking of them being kids again, relaxing after school, dreaming of the future, wearing an assortment of onesies. Now that had been replaced with work clothes, it had been replaced with the future they were dreaming of. For Logan, that was a black shirt and a tie, as a teacher he had to look presentable. He’d always been inquisitive and had a longing for knowledge, it only seemed reasonable to pass this knowledge on. Roman wore a white shirt, his favourite jacket thrown over the top, and black jeans; despite working at the same school as Logan, Roman had assured him several times; “Drama teachers don’t need to look smart, our job is fantasy, what good is a tie there?” Roman had always been into theatre and actually gotten pretty far, being in several shows, but now his main priority was teaching. He really loved working with younger, enthusiastic kids and giving them a place to truly express themselves. Virgil wore pretty much his normal outfit, black shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, and had obviously put on his favourite hoody as soon as possible. Virgil worked at a small antique store, it was quiet and the atmosphere was calm. The owner had taken a liking to him and made working there even better, it was funny but Virgil really did love his job. He didn’t want the pressure of teaching, or running his own company, and sure as hell didn’t believe in himself to put his work out there, but running a quaint old shop with sweetest elderly woman he’d ever met was incredibly appealing to him.

Patton looked down at himself; pale blue polo with a cardigan wrapped round his shoulders… he didn’t exactly have a dress code. He owned a coffee shop, and ran it with his brother, Thomas. It was doing strangely well, Patton had thought, and he really loved it. He and his brother had designed everything, it was something they could call theirs, and it was perfect. They’d filled it with plants, fairy lights, board games and rainbow pillows and blankets. The walls were covered in short motivational quotes, such as “Stay strong,” and “Keep going,” in beautiful cursive font and a faded watercolour background (courtesy of Roman.) It was small, friendly, if a bit cheesy, but people seemed to love it. Though no one more than Patton.

Patton sighed to himself again, feeling sentimental. His life was good now, it was better than good, great even. He ran a pretty successful business with someone he knew he could trust entirely, he had amazing friends who he’d been through so much with, he had a lovely house, and he had his loving boyfriend. Yet he felt in himself a longing deep in his heart, pulling him back to his high school years, forcing him to remember how all of this started. High school wasn’t the easiest time, yet for some reason remembering it felt so easy, it was comfortable thinking back on the nights they’d spent on group projects, times they’d gone to support Roman on his numerous shows, times he’d just sat and talked to Virgil for hours, times he and Logan would go for walks in complete ease. That felt so far away now, so far gone, he hadn’t been able to hang out with any of them individually for so long, he’d always have to cancel last minute if they offered. It was sad, Patton was sure their friendship would always be such a massive part in his life, but recently it felt like he was slipping away, fading out like a half forgotten memory or an old photograph. Even movie nights he usually had to leave early. He had to leave early.

Panic began surging through his chest, eyes going wide. What was the time?

He jumped out of skin when he heard his phone buzz, he immediately slammed his hand on it, frantically grasping at the sides and bringing it up to his face. A message brightly illuminated his screen, he should have been home ten minutes ago, his boyfriend’s name was displayed above his message:

Mike:

You’re late.

 Patton’s heart seemed to stop, how could he have been so stupid? He knew Miked hate it when he was late, still he did this. He’s probably so hurt, and worried, and upset. Patton felt the guilt and panic rot his insides, and a sickening feeling crawled up his throat. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Guilt. That’s what this feeling is. Guilt.

Patton shot up, startling the others, pausing only a second to type out a reply, then immediately began frantically dashing about the room, grabbing his stuff and uttering apologies as he went.

“Guys I am so so sorry, but I’m late and- Oh God, I have to get going, I’m sorry again g-“

“Woah, woah, hold up.” Virgil stated, confusion eating his words. “It’s only,” He paused to quickly check his phone. “Patton it’s 7:40, you have to be back at 8, chill.”

“No, no no no no, Mi-We decided to change it, I’m meant to be home by 7:30, and you know how he gets about time.” The eldest rushed out.

“What? 7:30?! That’s barely anytime at all! We haven’t even had our deep chats yet! The film isn’t even finished yet!” Roman gestured dramatically towards the TV.

“Indeed. Patton, I understand you want to get home, but surely you can explain to Mike you want to finish the movie. That is what movie night is for. You aren’t a child anymore.” Logan interjected, but Patton was already shaking his head.

“I’m sorry guys, I really am, I’ll try and stay longer next week. Promise.” Patton called, already heading out the door.

“Patton! Wait!” Logan called, standing and following him to the door.

“I’ll see you Lo! See you guys!” The door shut, the cheery tone carrying the words felt somewhat hollow. Logan sighed heavily, letting his shoulders slump forward as he walked back.

Virgil was standing by now, and Roman sat bolt upright, almost lifting out of his seat. The tallest shook his head as he re-entered, running a hand through his hair, then straightening his tie.

“I’m really… worried about him. He’s spending less time with us, barely answers his phone, seems constantly on edge. He’s isolating himself, removing himself from his own life.” Logan sighed, falling back onto the couch.

“It’s not him though, is it?” Virgil growled, Roman saw the anger building up in his boyfriend, it was flashing in his hazel eyes. Roman gently wrapped an arm around Virgil’s waist, pulling him back into his lap, lightly rubbing circles on his arm to calm him.

“That is, a fair assumption.” Logan continued. “But he doesn’t see what’s happening, he doesn’t understand the level of control that parasite has on him.” His voice was almost a whisper, but it cut sharp, causing Roman to lift his eyebrows.

“How… What can we do?” Roman questioned. “He won’t listen to us, even if we tell him the truth. You know he won’t. He’s always been a romantic, any issue, he’s convinced he can conquer it. He’s convinced love will conquer it.”

There was silence as the three of them thought. Patton had pulled them all together. Created an environment they were all comfortable. Given them all a family of sorts. He’s practically rescued them; he’d cared for them when no one else had. He’d always been there for him...and now they can’t be there for him.

I really hope you like this! Any questions feel free to ask me, part 2 will be out very very soon.