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holychocopie · 3 years

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The Social Experiment

Speed-Dating collab with @bakuroo-writings

Kuroo Tetsuro x F!Reader

Summary: For science, Kuroo decides to try speed-dating. Of course, he meets the girl, but things get complicated because he's such a dork, right!

Author’s notes #1: I'm so happy I could take part to this amazing event! I wish I could update earlier but Valentine's week was real busy with my partner's, my mom's and my birthdays... I hope you'll like it people. Sorry, I know it's long but I wrote it with love xx Also, I tried something new for me: I made some fake texting to illustrate a text conversation... Tell me what you think!

Super tip! A friend recommended me an extension for Google Chrome called InteractiveFics, which enable you to replace 'Y/N' by the name of your choice. I use it all the time 🤍

Warnings: F!Reader, SFW, a bit of swearing, mentions of D-pics, but lots of romance and fluff, and a bit of angsty tears too! Characters are aged up (all are Uni students).

Word count: 10966 😅

Thoughts and flashback are in italics.

-----

Kuroo Tetsuro loved University. He loved all the subjects he had picked for his first year. He had successfully completed all the tasks the different teachers had given him so far: essays, presentations, quiz, occasional research and readings. However, this time, he was doubting his ability to achieve. He was simply not inspired. On the paper, the topic was great. ‘How does modern consumerism impact social norms?’ In reality, it was just too broad for him to actually picture… There were just so many approaches he could go for, so many examples. It was deep, so many aspects to cover. However, he could only pick one phenomenon to observe and analyse but there was simply too much choice, too many options.

The dark-haired man was looking blankly at his computer, his elbows on the table as his head was resting in his hands. He sighed, annoyed, bored, lost, for what seemed like the 100th time this afternoon, and for his friend Bokuto Kotaro, it was one too many times.

“Bro, what’s wrong? You look like… well, like me, when I try to work on a physics equation.”

“Just that stupid assignment for my Social Study course.”

“Can I help?”

Kuroo chuckled. He was usually the one offering his help to the crazy owl, tutoring him in science. So far, he had never been on the receiving hand, and he honestly thought that he’d go all the way through his college years without ever seeing the day when Bokuto would actually be in a position to give him a hand with something academic.

“I don’t think you can. But don’t worry, I have a couple of months to work it out. I’ll probably be more inspired after the winter holiday break. I just thought that if I could pick a topic today, I could at least start the preliminary research.”

“What is it about?”

“How our social constructs and habits have been modified by capitalism and marketing. I need to find a specific example to illustrate the evolution of society, observe and analyse it.”

Bokuto brought a hand to his chin, nodding appreciatively, seemingly deep in thought. Like always, his exaggerated Sherlock Holmes-like expression made him look like some bad actor in a 1970’s crime TV series. After a good 5 seconds, the ace shrugged.

“Yeah, sorry, no clue. But what about you give it a break and go out with me tonight! That’ll take your mind off it for sure, then when you come back to it later tonight or tomorrow, you’ll have fresher perspective!”

Well, for once Bokuto’s advice wasn’t half bad. Actually, it was even pretty good!

“Okay, yeah, let’s do that. What do you suggest? The arcade?”

“Nah, actually I was planning to try something new!”

Kuroo raised a doubtful eyebrow. Bokuto trying something new often ended in drama, like that time when he had that ‘free entry and free first drink’ voucher for a new club, and they found out once there that it was a gay club. It was such an awkward moment… They did have a lot of fun – the people were super friendly, the music with great, the cocktails tasty – but Bokuto just didn’t know how to politely reject the few guys who had tried to flirt with him. And when he found himself overwhelmed by a never-ending flow of invitations to dance, free drinks and phone numbers on napkins, he came up with the excuse that Kuroo was his boyfriend. They even had to kiss!

Rubbing his right temple, ready to face whatever crazy new thing his friend wanted to test tonight, Kuroo asked:

“Mmmmh, okay… So, what’s the plan?”

“I wanted to try speed-dating!”

“Huh?!”

Well, that was unexpected…

“Wait, didn’t you find a girlfriend on Tinder or something?”

“Well, I thought I did! But I got catfished!”

“Like, what, she wasn’t an 18 year old Yoko but a 45 year old Taro?” he laughed.

“Close enough! She was definitely not the age she said she was, like probably 35 or 40. And she was basically searching a boyfriend for her daughter! So, the picture on her profile was actually one of her daughter! So awkward!”

Kuroo just burst into a loud laughter, arms crossed over his belly. That only ever happened to the horned owl.

“Dude! You and your drama!” he exclaimed, tears in his eyes.

Bokuto’s disgruntled expression slowly turned into a happier one.

“She did pay for the diner though, and it was a fine dining restaurant. So it wasn’t that bad, in the end, I guess. And I really liked talking to her. I felt like we had a true connection, you know!”

“Yeah, right, can’t say no to free food!” Kuroo pointed out as his laugh died down and he straightened in his chair. “But how true can it be? It’s just an application designed to sell you the dream of the perfect partner and get you hooked on browsing and swiping profiles, hoping to find the real gem. Marketing 101!”

“I just can’t seem to casually break the ice with a girl. If it’s in a dating context, I feel like half the job is done and all I have to do is get to know her. Because we’re both already in the optic of dating so no quid pro quo...”

Kuroo could easily see what Bokuto meant. The way people interacted together these days was so different. There was a need for immediate satisfaction, immediate results. And also, not everyone had the same concept of dating: some people just wanted something casual, others were after a one-night stand, and then there were those who wanted to find a companion. Some wanted exclusivity, some were happy to share, and others wanted freedom. Then there were those who just wanted a flirt, some others wanted to take you on a date and make you feel wanted and less lonely.

If the rules were already set before the encounter and everyone adhered to them, then finding a like-minded partner would be easier. So many new needs had emerged, the market had started to get more diverse in order to match the demand. Speed-dating, aps like Tinder, Hinge or Plenty of Fish… all of those were just a modern declination of a well-established profession that had existed for centuries but needed a refresh to fit in nowadays society ! Match-makers, they were always a thing.

Wait! That’s it! That’s my example of social norms impacted by modern consumerism! the former Nekoma captain thought. The timing of Bokuto’s invitation was so perfect it felt like Kuroo had had a little light bulb light on in his brain. And everything was clear in his mind; ideas were already blooming! He knew exactly what he would write in his introduction, what references he wanted to use to make parallels and support his hypothesis. Once again, he found himself excited and inspired by this subject!

He would have to go with an open-mind and a scientific approach to make observations and stay away from any form of subjectivity. This was gonna be great!

“So, speed-dating, huh?”

“Yeah, that way at least I get to meet the girl IRL and I won’t be as disappointed! So? What do you say?”

“I’m in!”

----

The café near your place was absolutely packed tonight. It was always busy on a regular basis, and you often found that it was safer to book on weekend, even for brunch, as it was a very popular place in this side of town. The Wallflower Café was well-named for its double entendre: the wallpaper in each of the two main rooms was indeed covered in watercolour designed flowers, and the regulars hanging out there were often nerds, loners, and other introvert misfits who would likely feel inadequate at a big party. But here, it felt peaceful, comfortable; it was the safe place your shy personality had always craved for.

Plus, the atmosphere was great and gave British tea house vibes with its wooden furniture decorated with floral carvings, its large windowpanes and French doors. It also had a few Romantic paintings and old silver-made mirrors hanging on the walls. The coffee was amazing, the cabinet food was great too, and the staff was always so friendly. The perfect spot to study, read a book or share a cute fruit tart with your best friend and flatmate.

However, once a month, the place would turn into the perfect rendez-vous for desperate souls seeking a partner. The Wallflower Café organised very successful speed-dating events every first Friday of the month, and this time was a special occurrence: the theme was ‘Find your perfect Holidate!’. Christmas was only a few weeks away after all! At this time of the year naturally, bachelors and bachelorettes were often in search of a boyfriend or a girlfriend to spend Christmas with.

You never really gave the modern mating parade much thought, and simply avoided your favourite café on those crowded evenings. But tonight, you were gonna be a part of it.

Your best friend Shoko – bless her heart! – thought that you could do with a little distraction from your very demanding nursing studies. Plus, you had remained single for just about 10 months now, after your high school boyfriend broke up with you for a girl going to the same college as him. So much for ‘sticking together after graduation’… you thought as you entered the café after Shoko, remembering the very shitty feeling of being dumped via text by the guy you thought was your one true love. What a bitter disappointment it was.

Had it been Shoko, you knew she would have drowned her sorrow in ice-cream and cheap snacks for a couple of days before immediately dating again – “You gotta get back on the saddle asap!” she would say. But you were an introvert! A shy one, at that! And you were such a serious student, always going the extra mile, when were you supposed to find the time to date? You knew deep down that you were voluntarily overbooking yourself with studies and activities to forget how lonely you felt most the time. And lately, well, it was simply harder than usual to pretend everything was fine: for the past three years you had spent Christmas with your boyfriend, and the perspective of being alone this year wasn’t really bringing the jolly to your winter break.

So here you were, ready to find your holidate!

“Hi ladies, welcome to today’s Holidate event!” one of the hosts said, catching your attention as she welcomed you in the entrance, by the booking desk. “Just a quick recap of the main rules: the women sit, the men turn. Each round lasts 10 minutes, and there will be a short break every two rounds. Always be polite, as it is often a first time for a lot of people, and we wish for everyone to have a great time. For your safety, do not give your personal details directly to a participant. At the end of the evening, you will be given a list of the participants who were interested in you and would like to contact you, and only with your approval, we will give them your email address and phone number. If at any point tonight another guest makes you feel uncomfortable or unsafe, please ring the bell that will be at your table, and we will handle it.”

You nodded with a smile, stress already bubbling up in your chest and your stomach twisting at the idea of having to talk to potentially many strangers tonight.

“Here’s your participation form,” the host continued as she handed both Shoko and you a sheet and a pen. “Please fill it in and we will assign you a table and a name tag.”

It was only 5.45pm when you were seated at table number 6, and all fifteen or so tables in this room were all assigned. The other room, a bit bigger, was reserved for the LBGT+ community, so you estimated the number of participants to tonight’s speed-dating at roughly 70! Only then did it down on you how popular the Wallflower Café was on those special evenings.

You were anxiously sipping at your hot chocolate, waiting for the event to start at 6. You tried to take your mind off the rising stress by looking at the many Christmas decorations that adorned the furniture, walls and ceiling, and admired the majestic Christmas tree and its many cute ornaments, tinsels and lights. You smiled when you noticed the miniature reindeer plushie sitting on your table by the sugar and the napkins.

Eventually, 6pm came, and the speed-dating session started with the duty manager giving a friendly welcome speech, inspired by the seasonal holiday. You didn’t pay much attention to what he said, you were too busy trying to deal with the mild panic rising in you. You looked behind you, at table 7, where you knew you’d find Shoko. She immediately grinned at you and gave you the thumbs up. At least one of you was excited!

When the host finished speaking, the first round started.

“Remember your notes!” Shoko whispered, loud enough for you to hear.

It wasn’t rare for a few people to come with some notes, or at least a paper and a pen to write down stuff. After all, you had only 10 minutes! A very short amount of time to make an opinion on someone, and make good impression too. So, upon Shoko’s advice, you had prepared a few questions to start the conversation and get to know the guys. You had also made a ‘short’ list of qualities to you were looking in a man, and flaws that would be an absolute deal-breaker. Yes, quotation marks on ‘short’ because we know how high your expectations were thanks to all those anime and books and comics you were ingesting on a regular basis.

Your ideal boyfriend would have to be tall, and athletic, dark and handsome, but still cute. He had to look good in a dress-shirt and a tie, but also in a pair of jeans and a hoodie. He had to be smart, but fun too. Reliable and a good cook. Kind, thoughtful, a pet-lover who gives good massages and doesn’t forget your birthday or anniversary. Someone with a solid sense of humour, and great pop culture references (extra points for nerdiness!). Someone who would surprise you with French poetry and random scientific facts – like did you know snails have actual teeth?! Oui, madame.

However, you would never go out with someone with dubious hygiene, who thought cats were assholes, or who would rather watch sports than a rerun of Doctor Who or the OG Star Wars trilogy. You could tolerate tardiness, but would not allow being stood up without a valid reason. Entitlement was also a big no-no, you didn’t want the guy to take your relationship for granted! Someone without a dream or an ambition to drive them, someone who thought a woman belong in a kitchen, someone who would take and never give… Someone who would break up through text.

Focus! Breathe! Smile! you thought as the first guy sat down in front of you…

----

It was only round 4 but it felt like he had been at it for hours already. Kuroo had underestimated how exhausting speed-dating could be. Only 10 minutes per person. 10 minutes during which he had to give his absolute and undivided attention to a stranger, listen, answer, talk… pretend! Thankfully, he had noticed that a few people were taking notes, so he decided to do the same, although he doubted the others had the same scientific purpose as he did. There were so many things to write down, so much he was observing, from the general atmosphere to the wide variety of questions and topics that were brought up. Some were more concerned by material stuff like jobs, social background, favourite brands of clothes, etc. Facts and countable criteria. And others were more interested in subjective matters such as common hobbies, favourite book or movies, etc. A girl even asked him to choose between 100,000,000¥ or teleportation. Was there even a good answer?

The victory theme song of Final Fantasy rang across the room, announcing the end of the round 4, and Kuroo politely smiled at the young woman across table 5 before standing up. There was a short five-minute break, which he welcomed gladly as he walked towards the drink station where Bokuto already was.

“Any luck tonight?” the white-haired man asked.

“It’s not like I really any,” Kuroo mumbled barely loud enough for his friend to hear as he poured himself a glass of water. “What about you?” he asked. “Any chance for a Ms. Bokuto tonight?”

“Nooooooo,” the ace pouted.

“We still have 8 more dates to go, I’m sure you’ll meet someone interesting tonight.”

“I really like the girl on table 7, she looks cute. Do you think she’ll be impressed when I tell her I am in the national youth team?”

Kuroo looked in the direction of table 7. The girl was cute, for sure, and she had that same huge grin as Bokuto himself so somehow, the raven-haired boy could picture the two of them together. She was enthusiastically talking to the girl from table 6, who had her back turned to him so he couldn’t really tell what she looked like. But he guessed he would know soon enough since table 6 was going to be his fifth date. The fact that she and number 7 were so friendly probably meant that they knew each other. Maybe they came together like Bokuto and him.

Sonic the Hedgehog’s intro theme song played, announcing the beginning of date number 5 and Kuroo couldn’t help but wish good luck to Bokuto, who would have to go through 10 very long minutes with table 5. To Kuroo’s opinion, she was a bit boring, so he couldn’t imagine how hard it would be for his hyper-active friend.

As he got closer to table 6, the young woman there had already stopped talking to number 7 and was sitting straight, her shoulders maybe a bit too tensed, as she held onto her mug with both hands, her gaze focused on the hot chocolate and its floating marshmallows. She’s cute, Kuroo thought with a smirk as he sat down.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

Your voice wasn’t loud, your tone was a bit neutral. An introvert?

“So, what’s your name?”

He decided to start with an easy question. Not too invasive given the circumstances, but enough to hopefully get them started. I mean, he could have simply looked at your name tag but where would be the fun in that?

“Y/N,” you answered as you finally looked up.

His smirk turned into a full smile as he finally got to look at your pretty face.

“Hi Y/N. I’m Tetsuro. Nice to meet you.”

“Same.”

There was a bit of a blank, but Kuroo didn’t mind. The way you pursed your lips, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, not quite sure what to say next in spite of it being round 5… it was all so adorable to him.

“Your first-time speed-dating?” he assumed.

“Is it that obvious?” you asked, slightly embarrassed.

“Yeah, but only because it’s the same for me.”

“Really?”

You seemed a bit relieved, and Kuroo saw that as the perfect opportunity to help you loosen up.

“Yeah, my friend convinced me to come.”

“Same for me,” you chuckled, your lips curling up into a shy smile.

“So, wanna ask me some of the questions you prepared?” he suggested, nodding towards your notepad.

“I realised earlier that they were a bit stupid though,” you said as you grabbed your notes.

“Is that what someone told you?”

Somehow the idea that another guy may have made a nasty remark to you bothered him.

“Yeah… I mean, he was nice about it, but I guess he kind of expected me to be more… I don’t know… spontaneous?”

“Well, I don’t know… those are what could be the most important 10 minutes of your life. Imagine missing out on your soulmate because you didn’t ask the most important questions!”

“Yeah like, aisle seat or window seat?” you chuckled.

“Aisle.”

You raised an eyebrow at his quick answer, obviously surprised that he would answer at all. And seriously, too. Kuroo smirked.

“I hate having to ask people to move so I can go to the bathrooms,” he explained.

“Fair enough,” you admitted, lightly shaking your head in mild disbelief. “So, hum, ketchup or mayo?”

“Mayo.”

Keeping up with the game, you increased the pace of the questions.

“Beach or mountain?”

“Beach.”

“Calling or texting?”

“Texting.”

“Chocolate or vanilla?”

“Is strawberry an option?”

“Lord of the Rings or Star Wars?”

“Both is good.”

“Playstation or Xbox?”

“PC.”

Your eyes widened. You were impressed.

“‘The moment you think of giving up…’”

“… ‘Think of the reason why you held on for so long.’”

You seemed nearly taken aback. But to be honest, so was he. Quoting Fairy Tail, showing your nerdy side with the console question, low key admitting that you were indeed an introvert who hated phone calls when you surreptitiously nodded at his ‘texting’ answer… You were opening up in your own subtle way and he loved what he was seeing. In a way, you were a bit like Kenma, minus the permanent bitch face that the Nekoma setter always put on.

“Okay, my turn. Very important question! If you could choose between 100,000,000¥ or teleportation, what would you pick?”

You laughed. Like, a proper laugh.

“Dude, what kind of question is that?!”

The 10 minutes went on so quickly Kuroo couldn’t help but feel frustrated when the time came for him to change tables again.

He had come here tonight with nothing in mind but his assignment, yet here he was, determined to see you again. In the short amount of time you had just spent together he felt like something unexpected yet absolutely amazing had happened. And he wanted it to happen again. And again. That smile of yours, your straightforward personality, that kind heart, that nerdiness… that beauty. When he came to this holiday speed-dating event, he wasn’t searching for a girlfriend – he never really had any trouble getting one before anyway – but somehow he wanted you.

----

Two months later…

Kuroo had a very strong feeling of déjà-vu.

He was in his regular study room, with his best friend Bokuto, looking blankly at his computer screen. Although this time, it wasn’t a lack of inspiration that blocked him. Quite the opposite actually; he had a lot to share about his little social experiment at the speed-dating event back in December, but how much of it was relevant? It wasn’t like his assignment was a complete blank page anymore though! He had his introduction where he described the topic, he had defined his keywords, presented the hypothesis to be tested, his approach and method, and had his arguments laid out. He even had cues for the final discussion and conclusion. But the actual observations, which were supposed to support or contradict his theories? Well, he could only rely on the notes he had taken during his first four dates. After that, he had lost all objectivity as soon as he met you, and then for the rest of the night and the remaining few dates, he just couldn’t focus anymore. His notes after his ten minutes on table 6 were superficial at best, and his memory, pretty blurry. All he could remember of the other participants were anecdotic details such as funny questions, awkward jokes, outstanding outfits or physical traits such as showing tattoos and dyed hair.

So, yeah, he had fuck all. And whenever he tried to jog his memory by looking at the incomplete handwritten scribbles on his pad, moments with you were the only thing that came to his mind. And the assignment was due in five days, on Wednesday 16thFebruary.

He sighed, passed a hand in his crazy black hair and laid back in his chair. It was only 10am, maybe he just needed another coffee. Or ten!

Across the table, Bokuto was on the opposite being quite productive. He was typing away with a very intense expression on his face, a slight frown of his forehead, as his sharp golden eyes were focused on the screen. It was rare to see the owl in this godly state of academic transcendence, Kuroo thought as he noticed how fast the other man’s fingers were flying over his keyboard.

Kuroo’s phone vibrated on the table by his laptop, catching his attention. At this time of the day, it would only be either Bokuto, Kenma, or his precious girlfriend. The first one was with him, in a crazed study trance, the second was likely in class right now, so it could only be you.

Even if he already had a solid guess on who was the sender of the text, the former Nekoma Captain couldn’t help but smile when he saw your nickname attached to the notification that popped-up on his screen.

Baby-girl: Good morning good sir, may the sun bless you on this wonderful day of February 💃

His smile widened at the sight of the flamenco dancer emoji, straight sign that you were in a great mood. He texted back immediately.

- ‘Morning m’lady, you’re in a good mood today!

Your answer was just as fast:

Baby-girl: I happen to have started my day with very good news

- Please do share because right now anything positive could help out

Of course, the sweet bunny that you were immediately worried, and you asked:

Baby-girl: You’re all good? Anything happened?

- Nah, just that stupid assignment… I don’t have enough data to finish it

Baby-girl: 😲💔 Can I help?

Kuroo bit his bottom lip as typed again:

- Nah don’t worry.

- So? What’s the big news?

Baby-girl: Well, you will be pleased to know that not only did I pass my finals, but I nailed them so good I got extra credits! 😎

- Kitten, that’s awesome! 🎉🎉🎉

Baby-girl: You proud of me?

- I’m next-level proud! I wanna brag about my super smart baby to the whole world 😘

He never had to lie or pretend with you, every emotion felt genuine, every word was earnest, every interaction felt natural. So right now, he really was proud of you. The school year was reaching its end, and the pressure on students across the country was mad! So, he truly was relieved and happy that you got to finish it with great fanfare! Next year would be especially demanding for you, since you would have two placements and a handful of reports to hand over, so it was good that you had the extra credits to give you a head-start.

Baby-girl: Just so you know, I’m blushing right now 🤭

- So you should! And I plan on making you blush so much more tonight since you’ve been a good girl working extra hard

- 😉🍆🍑💦

Kuroo cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. Sexting wasn’t really the most comfortable thing for him, but he did it anyway because his previous girlfriends really liked being turned on remotely with suggestive emojis and dirty talk. Damn, he had even sent a few dick-pics in exchange for nudes! Meanwhile, with you, things were a bit different. Being the shy piece of fluff that you were, mild PDA – such as holding hands or forehead kisses – was absolutely fine for you, but as soon as he would put his hand on the small of your back in the street, you’d start blushing. And of course, the mere mention of sex would make you turn absolutely red – sometimes he could nearly see steam smoke out of your ears as you tried to cope with his cockiness. So, no matter how uncomfortable he felt sending you those emojis, especially with Bokuto just in front of him, he loved the idea of making you blush madly. I’m such a dork, he thought, fully embracing that personality trait of his.

Your response came and he couldn’t help the satisfaction it brought him.

Baby-girl: 😳🔥🔥🔥

He had to bite his cheeks to hold back a chuckle.

Baby-girl: Should we go on a date too? 😊

- Definitely!!!

Baby-girl: Speaking about date, Vday is 3 days away…

Kuroo immediately jumped at the opportunity to make his request.

- Please bake me some chocolates 🙇‍♂️🍫💝

Baby-girl: I had a feeling you’d prefer home-made

- If it’s too much though I am happy with regular ones too!

- As long as I’m the only guy you give them to 😜

Baby-girl: Of course you’re the only one!! 😠

Baby-girl: And home-made you want, home-made you shall have 💪

He smiled.

Across from him, Bokuto cleared his throat very loudly, catching his attention. When the raven-haired man raised his eyes from his phone’s screen, he was met with the owl’s mocking smirk and suggestive eyebrow game.

“Distracted, I see…”

Kuroo shrugged, trying to act casual, and quickly texted:

- I’ll pick you up tonight. 6pm?

Baby-girl: Sure! Looking forward to it

- Me too 😘

When Kuroo put his phone on the side, he had a lingering smile on his lips.

After the Chrismas Holidate speed-dating session, you had agreed to pass your contact details to him and, as soon as he had received them from the Wallflower Café, Kuroo had texted you. It was late at night, and he was lowkey afraid you would think he was a creep for texting you so soon after the event, but he just couldn’t wait. And he did well: you ended up chatting until past 3am. You were a night owl like him, being only productive when your brain was about to pass out from exhaustion.

Since then, you had gone on a proper date: movie + diner, the whole thing! Then, you did a multi-date on Christmas with your friend Shoko who (very conveniently) had started ‘dating’ Bokuto. Kenma, Akaashi, the Miya twins and a few other of their old Volleyball friends living in Tokyo had joined in with their partners too. Together, your merry gang ordered massive amounts of fried chicken and rented a large room at a karaoke where you spent most of the night. You even gifted Kuroo a hand-knitted bobble beanie, black with cat ears on it. He remembered how guilty he felt because you had spent so much time making his gift while he only came up with a pink bunny plushy. You had claimed that you loved his present, and you did keep it on you bedside table, but he had sworn to himself he would go above and beyond for your birthday!

For New Year, after diner with your respective family, Kuroo and you had spent the night together for the first time at your place, making sure to wake up before dawn so you could watch the first sunrise of the year. Then you also went to the shrine together for the first prayer and the omen. Overall, things had been developing at a comfortable pace for the both of you. No matter how stressed or exhausted or frustrated Kuroo was with himself or his studies, or life in general, a simple text or snap, or a quick facetime with his girlfriend was enough to chase the bad vibes away for a bit.

“You’re so in love, bro. Smitten!”

“Yeah, so what?!” Kuroo admitted, a faint blush building up on his cheeks as he looked at his computer screen again.

“So, I think you should show some gratitude to me for introducing you to your future wife!”

Turning water into wine would be easier than trying to ignore Bokuto’s teasing antics and straight-up foolishness. Besides, Kuroo couldn’t really add anything to his essay at this point, so pretending to be working seriously was quite pointless. He sighed, giving up on pretending to be working seriously, and looked up at his best friend.

“First off, we’re not getting married—”

“YET!!”

“Then,” he continued, ignoring the owl’s interjection, “you didn’t introduce us.”

“I so did!”

“You did not.”

“I did!”

“Hu-huh, you did not.”

“I did! You would never have met Y/N if it wasn’t for me taking your sad ass to the speed-dating thing!” Bokuto exclaimed a bit loudly.

“There is like a massive gap between inviting me to tag along to an event, and introducing us, mate!” Kuroo answered.

Of course, there was a bit of bad faith from him; he knew that ultimately, Bokuto was the reason why he went to the speed-dating event, indeed. Meeting you was just a fortuitous bonus.

Bokuto crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, acting overly offended, like a fifty year-old cuckolded housewife.

“Fine, okay, thanks for taking me there,” Kuroo admitted with exaggerated annoyance. “But please don’t mention marriage in front of Y/N, I don’t want you to freak her out!”

The white-haired man chuckled proudly.

“Fret not my friend, I won’t! But!! You owe me!”

Kuroo sighed for what felt the hundredth time since he woke up.

“Fine, what do you want?”

“Help picking up a Valentine’s Day present for Shoko and your expert eye to proof-read my freshly finished essay!”

“When is it due for?”

“Valentine’s Day is in three days, duh!”

“Not the gift, the essay, duh!”

“Oh!” Bokuto exclaimed, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. “At the end of next week.”

“Sweet, no worries, I’ll do it.”

“My man!”

With that, the Ace shut his laptop and stood up to start a little happy dance – only he could get away with that in public places without feeling embarrassed. Sure, they were in a private study room, but the door and partition walls were made of glass…

With a little disgruntled groan, Kuroo tilted his head backward, rubbing his eyes with his palms. That caught Bokuto’s attention, who sat down again with a very serious expression on his face.

“What’s up?”

“You finished your essay, Y/N passed her finals, and here I am, struggling with my last assignment of the year…” he grumbled.

“Why can’t you finish it?”

“I miss some data.”

“How can you get them?”

Well, Kuroo couldn’t exactly explain to Bokuto. He hadn’t told his friend about his social experiment because he too was a part of it; he was one of his subjects of observation. While he doubted the owl would take offense, Kuroo didn’t want to take chances. Besides, all his subjects were referred to anonymously in his essay, the same way a journalist would make observations in an article without naming some of the people they encountered during their investigation.

“It has to be in a very specific set up and I won’t have the opportunity again.”

Kuroo frowned at his own words.

Wait, wait, wait! Isn’t the speed-dating a recurring event at the Wallflower Café? he thought. Immediately, he googled the name of the coffeeshop and checked their website. Well, look at that! Another speed-dating special V-day was happening tonight. He read the pop-up that appeared on the homepage:

Because we wanted to offer our beloved customers the opportunity to find their perfect Valentine, exceptionally this month, the Speed-Dating night will happen on the second Friday of the month, instead of the first! So, mark your journal: Friday 11th February at 6pm, special ‘Be My Valentine’ Speed-Dating night!

The only issue was he already had plans with you tonight!

Another sigh escaped his lips; he knew he could post-pone his date, however he wouldn’t get a third chance at gathering the data. Tonight was an especially good opportunity because, just like the ‘Christmas Holidate’ event, this special Valentines would provide the same unique atmosphere and a similar celebration-type of context, meaning the settings would remain cohesive between his first data and the new ones.

Before he could change his mind, Kuroo grabbed his phone:

- Hey princess, actually I won’t be able to make it tonight…

- Really sorry, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night tenfold ❤❤

“Looks like you found a way…” Bokuto observed.

“Yep, and it’s gonna have to be tonight.”

Kuroo’s phone vibrated in his hand.

Baby-girl: Everything alright?

- Yeah I am gonna work on my essay

- If I can finish tonight I’ll come for breakfast and we can spend the whole day together since no volley practice tomorrow

Baby-girl: You gonna bring croissants? 😍

- Of course 😘

Baby-girl: Do your best then! 🥐🥐🥐

Kuroo smiled at your cuteness before turning his attention back to Bokuto.

“Wanna go shopping for presents now?” he offered.

“Hell yeah!”

----

It was about 7pm when Shoko came out of her room, all pampered and ready to go out.

“So, what do you think?” she asked, spinning around as if modelling on a catwalk.

You raised your eyes from the manga you were reading as you were sitting crossed-legs on your favourite spot on the couch. Your friend was really cute in her outfit, her makeup and hair were on fleek, and the pair of shoes she intended to wear was a great match. You gave her a silent thumb up before going back to your reading.

“What? That’s it? Should I change?”

“No, you look great.”

“Then why the mild reaction?”

“‘Cause I’m in a mild mood?”

“Aww, you still upset that your boy took a rain check?”

“I wasn’t upset in the first place,” you mumbled, looking back at your manga.

Truth was, you werea little bit upset. But Kuroo was being a serious student and a reasonable young man; it was exam period, and you knew he had already handed over all of his assignments except for this one. You didn’t know what it was about, but it seemed to have given your handsome lover a lot of grief recently, so you were still glad when he announced he was planning on finishing it tonight. Meaning, he would finally be done with it, and would have more free time to relax in between his practice sessions with his college volleyball team. Sure, you’d spend the evening alone while all you wanted was to celebrate your passing your own exams, but you were looking forward to your romantic breakfast now.

You had contemplated accepting your classmates’ invitation to go for drinks with them instead, but you only really talked to a few of them – and more out of politeness and need than actual friendliness – and you didn’t feel like forcing yourself to be social tonight. You wanted to be able to be yourself with people you actually liked. That would have to wait until everyone was done for the year; you could all get together and celebrate everyone’s hard work and success.

“Now, now, Y/N. It’s okay to be upset…” Shoko said as she came to sit down beside you.

“It’s okay, really. We’ll spend the day together tomorrow…” you explained, failing at showing any enthusiasm.

Shoko shuffled your hair with an amused sisterly smile.

“So, my outfit is really okay, yeah?”

“Yes. You look amazing,” you reassured her a bit more vehemently. “You sure it’s not a date?”

“We’re not dating!” she defended herself a bit too quickly.

You smirked. Shoko had been seeing Kuroo’s friend Bokuto on a regular basis. She kept claiming that they were not a thing, but they clearly were, whatever they wanted to call it. They’d hold hand, exchange cute and long hugs, snuggle up in each other’s arms on the couch while watching movies, and all other sorts of PDA. And your friend’s excitement every time she was getting ready to see him… you had never seen her like this before. Maybe they were just moving a bit slower than Kuroo and you, and that was absolutely fine. And her stubborn denial was actually quite cute and gave you many great opportunities to tease her – nicely, of course – since she had been giving you so much shit for falling head over heels for Kuroo so quickly.

The interphone rang and she just about jumped off the couch; she ran so fast to the buzzer on the wall in the hallway that it seemed to you like she was flying. You chuckled to yourself, knowing you were just as bad when it was Kuroo at the door. You were simply better at interiorising.

You resumed your reading – you’d never ever get tired of reading Ouran High School Host Club, one of the best shojo out there!

When Bokuto arrived, you could hear their chattering in the background, but didn’t pay much attention until the boy came to you to say hello.

“Congrates, Victory-girl!” he exclaimed cheerfully with a bright toothy grin.

“Haha, thanks,” you answered with a small smile, raising your eyes from the book again.

Because he was the first of Shoko’s boyfriends to have ever genuinely paid attention to you, you were always happy to exchange with him. You had had a few occasions to chitchat with him over the past two months, and you could tell he was a very passionate and inspiring person. While you could completely understand why Shoko and he were a perfect match, you were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that he was one of Kuroo’s best friends. Your lover really had the most heteroclite group of friends: Kenma was an introvert like you, but with a bit of more caustic sense of humour, Yaku was an absolute tsundere, the Miyas were like a comic duo…

Overly extrovert, Bokuto sometimes overstepped your boundaries, but never in a forceful manner, so you always enjoyed his presence.

“What are you gonna do tonight?” he asked.

“Just gonna stay here and read.”

You shrugged, nodding at the pile of manga by your feet to highlight your plans.

“Maybe I’ll order some yakisoba too…” you added, now a bit more aware of your hungry belly.

“Nah, you just passed with honours! You should go out for a drink even if Kuroo ain’t here!”

“I prefer drinking with friends though.”

The owl-looking man nodded, a thoughtful expression on his features.

“I got an idea! What about you come with us? We’re friends after all, right!” he suggested.

You definitely weren’t expecting that. You looked at him with wide eyes, then looked over at Shoko, who was excitingly nodding behind him with both thumbs up.

“Yes! Come with us!” she approved.

“You guys sure? Weren’t you supposed to have some together time?”

“We’ll still be together with you!” Bokuto affirmed.

You blinked. Wow, that’s actually a very kind thing to say, you thought before caving in.

“Okay then, I’ll just grab my stuff…”

Five minutes later, the three of you were out the door. And one hour after, you were leaving a local ramen shop, stomachs full and cheeks warm after sharing some noodles and sake.

“Should we go karaoke? Or go to a bar?” Shoko asked, holding onto Bokuto’s arm.

The two had kindly been keeping their extreme PDA in check until now, and you were glad for it. So far, at no point they had made you feel like the third wheel, so you were actually able to enjoy being out with friends, even though you couldn’t help the little guilt bubbling up in your heart for high-jacking their not-a-date date.

“I completely feel like singing!” Bokuto exclaimed a bit too loud, catching other pedestrians’ attention.

You laughed.

“Okay, sure.”

“Oh my God, what’s that over there?” Bokuto nearly screamed, eyes wild as he looked further down the road.

You followed his gaze, only to find a very long queue in front of your favourite coffeeshop. That was weird… It shouldn’t be that crowded at night.

“Looks like they’re having an event of some sort,” Shoko noted.

You frowned. Speed-dating was the only event you were aware off… Oh wait! You did see a few posters around by the till a couple days prior when you visited the café to grab a hot chocolate on your way home. Special ‘Be My Valentine’ speed-dating night was happening tonight instead of the first Friday of the month because of the upcoming lovers day. Usually, at this hour, every participant was already set up inside, so why the big crowd? Did they decide to run two sessions in one night? That would make sense; some people were really lonely and depressed on V-day, so searching for someone to spend the holiday with was only normal.

“Oh!” you exclaimed.

“What?” Shoko inquired.

“Well, I wanted to take Kuroo there on Monday morning for coffee… You know, since that’s where we met, I thought it’d be cool to do something there on Valentine’s day together. Maybe I should call them and book ahead, ‘cause it’s probably gonna be busy all Monday.”

“Awwww! That’s so cute!” your bestie exclaimed.

“He will actually love that,” Bokuto approved. “This guy is just a big romantic and he’s completely weak for you!”

You blushed.

As the three of you kept walking along the street, you could see the rich and flamboyant red and pink decoration in front and inside the coffeeshop. That was so cheesy and cliché, nearly sickening, yet absolutely cute! Like in one of those American rom-com movies you secretly liked. You could feel a smile spread on your lips at the idea of taking your favourite dork there! He’d both hate it and love it. It’s gonna be so much fun, you thought, imagining the two of you sitting at your favourite table by one of the big windowpanes, exchanging Valentine’s gifts and chocolates while sipping at a hot drink… You crossed the street, excited to take a closer peak at the inside.

Your eyes scanned the room: hundreds of red glittery hearts of different sizes were stickered to the ceiling, thick ribbons in shades of dark fuchsia and Barbie pink were hanging on the walls, heart-shaped balloons were gathered in tree-like arrangements and positioned in each corner, and the tables were dressed in white clothes, red and pink roses in porcelain vases and baby pink candles ornamenting each and every one of them, and—

You froze.

You instinctively took a step back, ending up stomping on Bokuto’s foot.

“Ouch!” he yelped. Then, when you didn’t react: “Y/N, you okay?”

You could hear him, but your brain was blank.

Tetsu…

What eventually pulled you out of your personal pit of despair was the wetness on your cheeks. Did it start raining? you wondered stupidly as you brought a hand to your face, only realising then that you had started crying.

“What the fuck!” Shoko growled.

She visibly saw it too.

“What’s going on?” Bokuto asked.

“I’m gonna kill him!” Shoko added, ignoring the white-haired man beside her.

“Oh, shit…” Bokuto murmured right behind you.

Yep, he saw it as well… Right there, on the second row of tables, not far from the drink station, was your boyfriend. There was no mistaking his crazy bed-hair and his trademark smirk. He was smiling and chatting with a girl and seemed to be in the middle of a very enthusiastic conversation. When the pain started to spread from your chest and outward, making your limbs go numb and your head dizzy, you realised just how much you actually loved him. Because it definitely felt way more awful than when you had found out that your ex had a side chick, even after three years of relationship. And really, there was no doubt about what was going on, it was a speed-dating event after all.

Was it all a game for him? Did he simply enjoyed picking up lonely and desperate girls, because he knew he’d have no trouble scoring one or two? Wait, what if he was dating a few girls at the same time, gathering phone numbers at each event? They’d have no way to know, it was the perfect plan for a serial cheater!

Panic started to rise in your chest as some of the worst scenarios reeled through your mind at the speed of light, making breathing more and more difficult. You had to get away. Now!

As you were about to move, you noticed Shoko. She had somehow made it past the crowd by the door and past the Wallflower managing team, and was now walking – or more like furiously stomping the floor with each step – to Kuroo’s table. Since he was sitting with his back to the door, he didn’t see her coming. She swiftly grabbed a glass of water from a nearby table, catching other participants’ attention, and without an ounce of hesitation, she splashed the content of the glass at your boyfriend’s face.

You couldn’t hear what she said to him, but her facial expression was cold, her glare was pure wrath, and the finger she pointed at him might as well have been a sword.

Eventually, Kuroo turned to the large window, his features twisted by fright and panic as his hazel eyes found yours.

You immediately took off. Your body was on autopilot, reacting on its own, as if moved by a strong sense of self-preservation to protect you from further arm. Although, well, it was clearly too late, because the emotional pain was so intense you were physically hurting.

You never knew you could run that fast. You zoomed through the familiar streets of your neighbourhood and made it to your building in what felt like a handful of seconds only. And since the elevator was taking way too much time to reach the ground floor to your liking, you took the stairs. You reached your apartment completely out of breath, but that was fine. You’d soon be okay once you made it to the safety of your bedroom. You just wanted to be alone. That’s all you needed.

You ditched your shoes in the lobby, but didn’t even bother removing your coat. You locked yourself in your room, and curled up in foetal position on your bed. And you cried.

----

The sun was rising and Kuroo hadn’t slept at all…

His brain just kept replaying what had happened the night before at the Wallflower Café, again and again.

The splash of cold water that hit him had caught him off guard, and it took Kuroo a hot second to register what was going on. The whole coffeeshop was quiet, all eyes on him as he turned to look at the source of the sudden hosing.

Shoko was there, by the table he was sharing with what-was-her-name-again. Her soul-slaying glare was piercing through his bones and he felt himself instinctively shrink in his seat.

“What the--”

“Don’t be surprised!” she cut him, pointing a sharp manicured finger at him. “You hurt my friend, so I had to do something, since she’s too kind to do it herself.”

Hurt? What is she talking about? he wondered. He didn’t do anything wrong, did he? Wait!Realisation slowly downed on him. With what Shoko just said, he realised that him participating in a speed-dating event could definitely be interpreted the wrong way. Somehow, in his eagerness to gather the data he needed in order to finally finish his assignment, he just completely omitted that part. To him, it was only a social experiment, and because of the nature of speed-dating, he wasn’t committing to any of the women he was meeting tonight. It wasn’t cheating, but he could completely understand why Shoko would conclude that he was.

‘You hurt my friend’? Y/N? But you weren’t here though… were you? Once again, Kuroo’s brain put more pieces together and eventually got the full picture. This very unfortunate predicament appeared to have much worse consequences than Shoko-dzilla angrily watering his face in public. The black-haired man slowly turned to the large windowpane; he didn’t even have to search for his girlfriend, he spotted you immediately, right beside a visibly very disappointed Bokuto. When Kuroo’s eyes met yours, the absolute distress and pain he found in them completely crushed him. He was, indeed, hurting you.

The eye contact didn’t last long though, as his lover took off, dashing through the pedestrians and quickly disappearing from his sight. Struck full-force by a wave of panic, Kuroo rose from his chair and hurried outside. But by the time he made it to where Bokuto now stood alone, you were nowhere to be found.

“Fuck…” he whispered to himself, running a frustrated hand through his messy hair.

His heart was beating so fast and his blood was pulsing so loudly in his ears that he couldn’t really hear what Bokuto was telling him. Kuroo quickly went back inside to gather his stuff, ignoring Shoko’s pissed off comments, his date’s shocked expression, and the other participants’ murmurs. Somehow it only made sense to him to fetch the precious notes for which he had ruined his relationship with the woman he loved, so at least his loss wouldn’t be a total waste. Fuck you, Kuroo! You haven’t lost her yet! he thought to himself angrily as he left the café with his messenger bag across his chest and his jacket under his arm. He had to go after you. He had to find you and explain to you. It was all just a big misunderstanding after all!

But he hadn’t gone more than half a dozen metres in the direction of your building that he was called out by Shoko:

“Ooooh no! I hope you’re not planning on seeing her, you cheating bastard!” she threw at him as she caught up with him, Bokuto following right behind her.

“I wasn’t cheating! I gotta tell her that!” Kuroo defended himself.

“Then what were you doing there?” Bokuto asked.

Yeah, if even his best friend was doubting him, the whole situation must have really looked bad. How come he didn’t even think it would, was beyond him. He should have just come clean about what he was doing in the first place! He should have told them about the experiment. But then, what would you have thought? That you were just another experiment to him? His frustration went up a notch as he answered:

“I was gathering data for my assignment.”

“What are you on about?” his friend asked, obviously confused.

Kuroo stopped walking and turned to face the owl and explain:

“Remember my paper for Social Studies?”

“The one that’s been giving you so much trouble?”

“Yes, well, I decided to write about speed-dating.”

Kuroo groaned when, once again, he remembered Bokuto’s sad expression. He could easily tell that hetoo felt sort of betrayed and hurt… like a lab rat being experimented on against its will.

By the time the boys had gone home to the flat they shared, Kuroo had been able to explain himself, assuring to his friend that what he had written was respectful, and that nothing in there could tip off the reader about the identity of his ‘subjects’. He even offered him to read his essay – or at least what he had written so far – which the owl did. And that probably helped untangle the situation. Maybe if I could get Y/N to read it, she would understand too?

He had tried texting and calling his girlfriend many times last night, but his messages were left ‘unread’, and when his last call bounced straight to your voicemail, he knew there was no point insisting as you probably ended up turning your phone off. At least he wasn’t blocked – yet! – or his calls wouldn’t even have reached, and he would have been met with an automated voice message instead. Now, Shoko had been clear about not wanting him to show up at their door until you felt comfortable seeing him, or she’d call the cops and get him arrested for harassment. That definitely made it harder for him to plead his case, but he couldn’t blame Bokuto’s girl for wanting to protect her friend. If anything, Kuroo was kind of glad that you could rely on someone like Shoko, although right now it was at his own detriment.

As Nekoma’s captain, Kuroo always knew what to do. He was sensible and responsible, and somewhat mature too, which made him a great problem-solver. But right now, he just couldn’t see any solution. It all depended on whether you would give him the benefit of the doubt and hear him out, or whether you’d simply cut all ties with him and kicked him out of your life. Given what had happened with your previous boyfriend, he wouldn’t be surprised if you opted for the latter.

With a heavy sigh, the young man decided to get out of bed. He didn’t exactly feel like having breakfast or anything but staying in his room all day would only lead to more spiralling. His twisted stomach was too upset for food, but he could at least make some coffee. Kuroo dragged his sorry ass to the small kitchen and, as he was setting up the coffee machine, someone knocked at the front door. He frowned. Did Bokuto go out and forget his keys? That would be highly probable if it wasn’t 8am on a Saturday morning… The owl was definitely still in bed, especially with practice being suspended during the exam period. A parcel delivery maybe? Kuroo didn’t remember ordering anything recently but maybe his flatmate did? With a lazy sigh, the raven head went back to his room to put on a tee-shirt before opening the door.

Another knock, a bit fainter and more hesitant than the first one, could be heard just as he made it to the hallway.

“Coming,” he mumbled, barely loud enough his visitor was to hear.

Eventually, Kuroo unlocked and opened the door.

Well… That’s unexpected.

Standing there in front of him was his girlfriend.

Your hair was attached in a very messy bun and your face seemed a bit puffy. Upon looking closely, Kuroo noticed the red in your eyes, and the dark circles underneath, sign that you definitely didn’t sleep well either and probably cried a lot. Knowing that he was the cause of your tears was hurting him even more than his fear of you leaving him.

You stood in silence for a few long seconds. Kuroo wanted nothing more than to take you in his arms and hold you, but he was afraid you’d run from him again.

He cleared his throat before speaking:

“Wanna… Wanna come in?”

You pursed your lips, lowering your gaze before nodding.

Kuroo moved to the side and opened the door wider for you. You removed your sneakers and winter coat while he closed the door, only to reveal that you were only wearing a pair of sweatpants and an oversized tee, no socks, and visibly no bra either… You had come all the way to his place, that early in the morning and in the winter cold, wearing only your pyjama!

Immediately, Kuroo grabbed you by the shoulders – you were so cold – to lead you into the living room and wrapped you in one of the blankets they kept on the couch. Only then did he realised that you had been holding onto a large paper bag. He wanted to ask what was inside, but you talked first.

“I read it… Your paper, I read it.”

Kuroo froze.

“Bokuto emailed it to Shoko, and she made me read it,” you explained in quiet hoarse voice.

“I’m sorry,” was all Kuroo could muster, disappointed with himself.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I….” he sighed, frustrated.

How was he supposed to make you understand? Would you even believe him? He passed a hand over his face, then through his knotty black mope.

“Because I didn’t want you to believe that I wasn’t serious with you, and that you were just part of an experiment…”

“Was I not?”

“NO!” he exclaimed a bit too loud. “No… You’re my girlfriend, you’re not a lab subject.”

“You mentioned your own best friend in that paper – not by name, but I knew it was him. And you talked about Shoko too.”

“Yeah, that’s shitty of me…” Kuroo mumbled. “This paper is meant for my teacher only though, I didn’t intend on having anyone else read it.”

“I still don’t understand… Why did you go last night?” you asked, a touch of sadness laced in each word.

“I… I can’t be objective when it comes to you. The night we met, from the moment you smiled at me I was done for. I couldn’t focus on anything else after that. I can’t remember any of the other girls’ faces or their names from that night… Remember how I told you that I didn’t have enough data? Well, that’s because I just didn’t take any valuable notes after our date. I couldn’t focus my mind on anything. And then Christmas happened, then New Year, then I prioritised my other assignments and procrastinated this one for as long as I could…”

Kuroo took a pause; he knew how stupid and lame his excuses sounded right now but, at least they were the truth.

“That’s when I realised all I could rely on was the notes from the first four dates of the night, and that wasn’t conclusive enough for my analysis. And I found out last minute yesterday that I still had a chance since this month speed-dating had been postponed to match Valentine’s Day… and believe me, I… Not a single moment did it occur to me that going there last night was ‘cheating’ because, in my mind, it was just about gathering data, finishing this stupid paper, and make it to you for breaksfast.”

Yeah, it definitely sounded very lame.

Still standing, face to face with you in silence, the volleyball player felt vulnerable. He needed to give his body some substance or he felt like he would flake, so he went to the couch and sat on the armrest.

“I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot,” he whispered.

You approached him, standing at arm’s reach, and that’s what he did. He reached. Palm up, a silent invitation for you to take his hand.

“Will you forgive me?” he asked, raising a timid glance at the beautiful woman he hoped would still be his.

But after a few long seconds that felt like an eternity, you didn’t take his hand.

Instead, you put the brown paper bag in it.

Kuroo gulped, feeling his heart drop. What was that supposed to mean? He opened the bag and took a look at the content: the bag was holding a white pastry box with a logo he recognised. He caught a faint whiff of the sweet perfume of freshly baked croissants from the delicious French pastry shop that was across his local train station.

“You promised me breakfast,” you said, a soft smile curling at the corner of your mouth.

You must caught his confusion because you explained:

“I had forgiven you the moment I finished reading your paper. Even though it’s not finished yet…”

It took everything Kuroo had to stop himself from jumping and screaming his joy – Bokuto was still asleep, and his introvert girlfriend would probably freak out a bit. So instead, he bit his bottom lip, his mouth stretching in a smile. He put the croissants away on the coffee table, then grabbed you with both arms around your waist and pulled you to him. Since he was still sitting on the armrest, he was in the perfect position to burry his face in your soft chest. Now perfectly muffled in the plush of your flesh, his voice lot go a loud groan of relief.

When he felt your arms wrap around his shoulders, one of your hands sliding in the short hair at the back of his head, Kuroo tightened his embrace.

“I thought I’d lost you…”

The raven-head boy opened wide eyes. The words could have come out of his mouth, but they came from yours instead.

“I thought I fell in love with the wrong person again, and that I’d lost my boyfriend.”

You let go of him, your hands moving to cup his face. You looked into each other’s eyes, then you captured his lips into kiss.

It started as a soft, kind and loving kiss, but quickly turned into a more needy exchange. Kuroo could tell by the subtle moan you let out, that somehow you felt like him: you wanted to hold onto him and never let go.

He deepened the kiss, and you didn’t complain. He would say that he loved you – he had never said the three magic words before, although he definitely didn’t feel less for you – but right now, after nearly losing you to his own stupidity, they would feel too cheap. Besides, V-day was only two days away now, a more appropriate opportunity.

When eventually you both pulled apart, slightly out of breath, Kuroo grinned at you before securing his hold around your waist. And without any warning, he simply let himself fall backward onto the couch. You let out a surprised yelp and you found yourself being pulled down with him. You landed onto him safely, pressed against his chest and he murmured against your ear:

“I’m so exhausted, we should take a nap here together.”

Your legs were tangled together, hanging in an awkward angle due to the armrest, but somehow it wasn’t too uncomfortable. He was just happy to be able to hold onto you. You nodded, kissed his cheek and buried your face in his neck.

“You’re such a dork,” you whispered.

And he smiled.

-----

Author's Notes #2: I tried to stay accurate with Japan’s traditions and perceptions of Christmas and Valentine’s Day. Meaning that Christmas isn’t really a family holiday, because only 1 or 2% of the population is Christian. It is mostly the occasion to party with friends or go on a date with your lover. Fried chicken is also a must on Christmas, not sure why lmao. The family gathers more for New Year’s Eve and New Year. Valentine’s Day is usually a day where girls will treat the boy(s) they like by offering them chocolates, and already established couples also go on a date. Also, calendar-wise, the school in Japan usually starts in April and goes all the way to end of February or mid-March for some schools and institutions, with a small break in between school years. They also have a summer break, a short winter break over the holidays, a golden week and public holidays here and there. I hope this helps.

#hq collab #valentine's day collab #vday collab #speed-dating collab #bakuroo writings #holychocopie #patpat605 #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo x y/n #⏲.speed dating collab #kuroo imagines #fanfiction #haikyuu!!#HQ!!#imagines #reader insert

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weresodiscxnnected · 2 years

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Relationships: Peter Parker/ Original Female Character Warnings: Swearing Word count: 4862 Notes: Surprise! A Friday update! Okay, I said earlier I try to post during weekends, and Friday is the start of the weekend. I've noticed that when I write about Harley I keep thinking Luke Hemmings for some reason, so, I've just gone with the flow. For Harry I kept thinking Timothee Chalamet because of all the fancasts in tiktok. Also, a small head's up; I have a lot of important deadlines coming up, and I'm already doing everything last minute, so I'm not sure if there will be an update next week (I'm doing my best to finish both, by essays and the next chapter). I think it's good to note that the following updates will go unedited and proofread only by me since my lovely friend who is doing the proofreading for me is travelling. Thank you to everyone who is reading! I never thought someone would read this since it's something I started writing for myself for fun.

Link to the series Masterlist

Chapter 5

It was Monday morning; Peter was getting ready for his visit to the Daily Bugle before his work. The news played in the background while he was loading the coffee maker. He adds one more scoop of coffee grounds into the maker as he hears Melissa’s door go. The clicking of high heels on the hardwood floors echoes in the hallway before Melissa arrives in the room. She was wearing a lavender coloured pants suit with high heels, and her hair was in a low ponytail. It was different from what Peter had used to seeing the girl in.

“What’s the occasion?” Peter lifts his eyebrow, leaning into the counter next to him.

“There are these end-of-the-year development interviews for all the staff, and they’re making me sit through them with Aida to take notes. Or, how I put it, I’m just there to look pretty and pretend I understand what they’re talking about.” Melissa sighs, sitting on the barstool.

Peter remembered how Tony used to hate those interviews, yes, they were beneficial, but they were also tedious. First, every head of the department would interview the people working under them, and then the director would be interviewed by Tony or Pepper; usually, Pepper and Aida did the job. He had been in that interview once, and it had been enough for him.

“You’re going to the Bugle today?” Melissa asks when Peter hands her a cup of coffee.

“Yup,” Peter nods, pouring himself a cup.

“So, are you an aspiring journalist or something?”

“Not really. I just sent these shots I got of Spiderman. Thought it would be a nice way to get more money” the boy sips his coffee.

“Harassing superheroes in your free time, Parker, I would’ve never guessed.”

“No, we’re cool; we’re like buddies.”

“You sold your buddy to the media who mocks him all the time?”

“It was his idea; he wants to keep his identity, so, instead of thousands of people taking pictures of him, he just has one whom he knows.”

There was something behind Peter’s words that Melissa didn’t swallow. She knew he was lying; she could see it. However, she didn’t say anything, she didn’t want to scare the boy, knowing she would out herself in the process. So, she just decided to play it cool.

“Okay, Paparazzi Parker. I can give you Daredevil’s address or Deadpool’s if you want to harass more masked vigilantes.” Melissa winks.

“No thanks, I think I'll stick with Spiderman,” Peter scratches his neck.

“Good choice”, Melissa mumbles in her mug while she scrolls her phone.

They spend the rest of their morning coffee in silence while Melissa scrolls Instagram and Peter watches the news. Nothing new for either of them, it was comfortable silence. The girl likes pictures of people she knew distantly, like Gwen, the girl who worked in the lobby of the Stark Tower. She posted a picture of her cats cuddling. Or Ned, the IT intern she had met twice, but he seemed to be friends with Harley and Harry, so she had followed him back. Apparently, Ned had recently gotten engaged and was now posting a picture with his fiance. Melissa’s Instagram moment is ruined by Happy, who has just texted telling her he was waiting downstairs.

“I need to go”, she mumbles, getting up from the barstool. Peter glances at the girl first, then the clock and realises he needs to leave as well. The boy shuts down the Tv before turning off the coffee maker and cleaning the mugs in the sink. Melissa pulls her coat on when Peter meets her in the hallway. Grabbing his jacket and back bag, Peter follows the girl out of the door, locking it on his way.

The elevator ride was quiet, but the silence was quick to end when they reached the front door and saw it was pouring outside.

“Shit!” Peter curses; he had forgotten his umbrella upstairs. He was never going to make it dry to the Daily Bugle. Melissa looks at the car where Happy was waiting for her. She then looks at Peter, who had already started to walk back to the elevator to get his umbrella.

“Happy can drive you; the office is close by the tower, it’s; it’s not a big detour” Melissa shrugs, knowing Happy wouldn’t be happy, but they had plenty of time, and she felt bad for Peter.

“Really?” Peter turns around.

“Yeah, let's go” Melissa nods towards the car, opening the door. They sprinted towards the car, holding their coats over their heads to cover themselves from the rain.

Finally getting into the car and relatively dry, Melissa and Peter look at each other, smiling; their mission was successful.

“Hey, what’s this? Who is this?” Happy’s head snaps to the backseat.

“Happy, this is Peter, my flatmate. He has a meeting in the Daily Bugle, and I couldn’t let him walk there soaked. It’s not a big detour. Please, Happy,” Melissa explains, batting her eyelashes at the man sitting in the driver’s seat.

Happy’s eyes scanned Peter, and Peter could feel the nervousness rising. Part of him hoped Happy would recognise him, and part of him feared that he’d recognise him. He had only met him once, on May’s grave, but he didn’t remember him. Happy then sighs and looks at Melissa, still making her best puppy impression.

“Fine, but I’m not a taxi, Mel.”

“Yay! Thank you, Happy!”

Twenty-something minutes later, the car stops in front of a large building with massive screens that play the news clip from the Bugle. The letters Infront of the building are written in yellow. Peter thanks Melissa and Happy before getting out of the car. Covering himself with his jacket, he jogs into the lobby.

People ran around the lobby, waving papers around and trying to catch the elevators. It was something you’d see in TV shows and movies, not in real life, or that’s what Peter thought. A big silver coloured desk with Daily Bugle written stands in the middle of everything. Behind it was a girl with blonde hair, staring at the computer with a troubled look on her face while trying to explain something on the phone. Peter couldn’t believe his eyes; it was Betty Brant, his High School classmate and Ned’s girlfriend. When he had seen her last time, she was still in college doing her degree in Journalism. Her degree and passion for journalism were only clear that she’d work somewhere like the Daily Bugle. Still, Peter wasn’t expecting to see her there.

Peter fixed his jacket and hair before he walked toward the desk. The girl glances at Peter, holding up a finger to ask Peter to wait for a second.

“Mr Jameson, I have already sent Mercado to investigate and write a report. She’s the best we have; I’ll send someone to take pictures with her.” She mumbles a few yeses and okays before putting the phone down and giving Peter her full attention. She looked the same as Peter remembered; she had shorter hair and was dressing more mature, but any other way, it was the same Betty Peter remembered.

“Uh, yeah, I’m Peter Parker, I sent material about Spiderman a few days ago, and I was told to come here for further discussion,” Peter stutters under Betty’s firm stare; he was a total stranger. It was hard not to ask how she was doing since it had been a while since they’d seen each other. Not to mention the urge Peter had to ask how Ned was doing, but he couldn’t. Betty’s face softens, and she clicks something on the computer. A few more clicks, and she finds the schedule she was looking for.

“Right! Welcome; I was told you’d be coming this morning. Let me call my boss” she smiles, taking the phone and placing it on her back again.

When she lifted the phone, a ring on Betty’s left ring finger caught Peter’s attention; that was indeed new. Has Ned gotten engaged? Peter’s guts turned, and his heart ached. The slow realisation of how many important things he was going to miss. Peter remembers how Ned used to talk about how Betty was the one and someday he would marry her. Back then, Ned had told Peter that he wanted Peter to be his best man; all of it felt distant then. Now it was happening, and Peter couldn’t be there for his best friend.

“Mr Jameson, the Spidey photographer, is here. I’ll send him up.” She speaks, pulling Peter back to earth. “He’ll see you now, the last floor; take a right from the elevators.”

Peter thanks the girl before heading to the elevators and pressing the button to the top floor; the doors close in front of him. The gut-wrenching feeling didn’t ease. Meeting Flash was easy, but Betty was more challenging; she was closer. He never had thought about what he would do if he met people from his past. Until now, it had been easy just to avoid everyone and the places they might be. It had worked for almost a year now, but somehow, Peter felt like everyone was slowly creeping back into his life. Happy, Flash, Betty, he had managed to pretend he was a stranger for them but knowing himself, it would only get harder to act. He was afraid that he’d slip something, and it would blow his cover like it would be some counteracting to Strange’s spell, and everything would rewind into last year’s mess.

Peter jumps slightly when a man walks into the elevator on the sixth floor, nodding to Peter as a greeting and pressing the same button Peter had pressed earlier. When the elevator informs them that they’ve reached the top floor, they walk out and head right.

Peter didn’t know what to expect, he had just sent the pictures, and they told him to come around. He wondered why they didn’t just make him send his information over the email but made him come to the offices. The man from the elevator enters first into the room, followed by Peter right after.

“Well, get into that warehouse. I don’t care if the police have closed it! It’s not a coincidence that Deadpool and his little sidekick were seen there. We need to find out what is going on!” a man with slicked back grey hair yells into his phone, smashing it down in its place. “What the hell are you standing there?”

Peter jumps back, a bit shaken by surprise. He quickly fixes his position and clears his throat.

“I’m Peter Parker; I send pictures of Spiderman to you.”

“I don’t know what I was expecting but certainly not you! Anyway, I liked the material. Not the best but the best we have right now.”

“Thank you?”

The older man turns to look at the person next to Peter.

“Abernathy, How much can we pay the guy?”

“If our people had taken pictures like that, it would be around fifty bucks per pic, hundred for video and double if we use them. He sent five pics and five videos; it would make seven-hundred-fifty to cover the base and add commission after choosing what we use.”

“But he’s not working for us; I say four hundred.”

Peter was sure that the two had just completely forgotten that he was still in the room as they went on about how much he should be paid. They go back and forth before Mr Jameson speaks to Peter again.

“How did you get the pictures? How did you know where to be?”.

Peter freezes. He wasn’t expecting questions, or he was, he just wasn’t ready to answer them.

“I-I have my ways. We’re kind of like acquaintances.”

“Acquaintances? So, you know the menace underneath the mask?”

“No, Sir. I’ve never seen him without his mask. I’ve just met him multiple times. He swings a lot in the area I live in.”

The older man squints his eyes; he can tell Peter hides something. If he knew Spiderman, he could be a valuable source for the Daily Bugle and perhaps, he could help them unmask the son of a bitch.

“I’ll give you a deal, kid. I’ll pay you a thousand if you bring me new pictures by Wednesday, and I’ll hire you as a photographer for Spiderman.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Peter would have to double-take if he heard the man correctly. He can’t be saying what Peter thinks he’s saying.

“You heard me; I’m offering you a job. I will get more pictures by Wednesday; I’ll give you 1000, and you’ll become Spiderman’s photographer since you can do the job better than our current photographers.”

So, Peter’s ears and mind weren’t deceiving him after all. Mr Jameson was offering him a job. Peter nods and crosses his arms on his chest.

“What would that job include except taking pictures of Spiderman?”

Now, it was the man next to Peter who talked. “Like I earlier mentioned, it would be fifty for a picture, a hundred for video, double if used, plus minimum wage for the first year. Office hours would be nine to five every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. On other days you’d come if needed. Almost every photographer here works as a freelancer under the same rules.”

“Take it or leave it; I’ll pay you four hundred now, and you leave or thousand on Wednesday, and I’ll hire you.” Mr Jameson leaned back in his chair.

Peter might be losing his mind, but the conditions he was given sounded like a dream compared to his current job. No more yelling customers, no graveyard shifts where he had to sit behind the counter and hope someone would need something at four in the morning, no itchy bright green polyester vest. He could make money for being Spiderman and show up to the office three times a week.

“It’s a deal.”

“I’m waiting for those pictures on my desk at nine on Wednesday morning, Parker. And they need to be publication quality!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, now, get lost. I need to figure out what Deadpool is up to.”

Without saying anything, Peter leaves the room, heading to the elevator. Before he can reach it, he is stopped by Abertnathy.

“I have to say; you’re a crazy kid. The deal is good, but you have no idea what you got yourself into.”

“He’s waiting for me to fail, so he doesn’t have to pay?”

“Pretty much. Our team has been chasing Spiderman for a year now, and the best we got was pixelated CCTV material and blurry pictures from afar. One guy swears he was taking pictures of Spiderman when it was clearly a woman”

“Well, I have my ways, trust me” Peter walks into the elevator, leaving the man to just stare at the closing doors.

Peter pulls out his phone, excited to tell the news to his friends already typing a message, but when he’s about to press send, the realisation hits him. He didn’t have anyone to tell. It would be weird if a random number sent “Guess what! I just got offered a job!” nowhere. So, he deletes the message. When he’s about to close the messaging app, one name catches his eye on top of his message list. Maybe he did have someone he could tell the news about; hesitantly, he clicked the name. Peter was sure she wasn’t going to answer him, and he was probably interrupting her work, but still, he typed the message.

Peter: Guess what? I got offered a job at the Daily Bugle!

The elevator blings as it reaches the ground floor, opening the doors and revealing a group of people waiting to get in. Awkwardly the boy walks out of the elevator, making room for the people wanting to go up. He waves Betty at the front desk before heading out. When he steps outside, he is reminded that it is still pouring. For Peter’s luck, the closest Subway station where he could get a train to work was next to the Stark Tower, an almost ten-minute walk away.

He had no choice but to walk. Sprinting towards the station like him running would make him or his journey any drier. The water splashed under his sneakers, soaking his jeans. Peter didn’t even bother to cover his hair. It would be wet anyway. Because of the rain, the streets were relatively empty; no one wanted to go outside in weather like this unless they had to. He finally makes it to the station, putting his super-speed and reflexes into work, dodging the umbrellas of the one poor tourist group roaming the streets.

When he finally gets into the train, he’s dripping wet, like he had gone into a shower with his clothes on, hoping his phone and headphones in his pocket weren’t soaked as well. Pulling out his phone, he sighs in relief, seeing it is dry. Checking the phone, he finds out that he has one new message.

Melissa: oh, wow, congrats? not sure how to react, if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Peter: Thank you! I took the offer, so I guess it was a good thing. How’s your work?

Peter writes and deletes the last sentence multiple times before leaving it and sending it.

Melissa: i guess it’s time for proper congratulations! paparazzi parker ;) and boring; they keep talking about growth rates, marginals, and sales volumes.

Peter: Oh, I’m sorry! Am I interrupting? Didn’t mean to.

Melissa: nah, it’s okay. i’m texting Cindy as well. they don’t even notice. so, tell me about your new job.

Peter: Well, I don’t have the job yet. I need to bring them new pictures of Spiderman by Wednesday morning, and if the pics are good, they’ll hire me.

Melissa: that sounds sketchy, but if they like the previous ones, they will like the new ones as well.

Melissa: okay now aida is giving me a funny look, i better stop. talk to you at home x.

Peter: Good luck with the rest of your day!

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

It was almost two o’clock when Melissa was freed from the Interviews. It didn’t mean that her workday was over; no, it meant Morgan would be home from school soon, and her job as some sort of secret agent turned into a nanny. Happy was picking Morgan up since it was still pouring, and Melissa refused to drive a car in New York City.

So, Melissa decided to spend the little break she was given doing what she did best, annoying her friends in the labs. She strutted towards the engineering lab on the 12th floor. She could see two heads standing next to a computer through the windows. One with dark, almost black curls cleanly slicked back and one with messy blonde hair pointing everywhere. A big grin forms on Melissa's face as she parades into the lab after swiping her key card.

“What are we doing this afternoon?” She walks behind the figures.

“We’re doing the finishing touches on Cindy’s new suit,” The brunette says, nodding to the table on their left. A black and silver suit lays on the table, with a red spiderweb on the chest piece.

Melissa walks closer to the table, looking at Harry and Harley to ask permission to touch the suit.

“Go ahead”, Harley nods, knowing that the girl was aching to touch the suit.

Melissa carefully lifts the suit's sleeve, studying the red fingertips on the glove. Running her finger up the sleeve to the chest, she traces the red S that looks like a lightning bolt when you first look at it.

“This is so much better than mine”, She breathes out, fascinated by the suit.

“I’m not buying that; Lily made your suit.” Harry shakes his head.

“Well, it’s not that bad, but it could use upgrading. And I look like I’m cosplaying Taylor Swift when I wear it.”

“I thought you liked Taylor Swift”, Harley smirks.

“I do, but I’d like to have a little more coverage and lose the gold details. Wade keeps calling me Honeybee. It sounds like a lame version of the Wasp.”

“Technically, it is your name,” Harry points out.

“Oh, piss off, Osborn,” Melissa rolls her eyes. She plops into the chair next to the table, kicking off her heels before crossing her feet on the chair, barely fitting. Harley lets out a small laugh at sight, commenting that she never knows how to sit correctly in chairs. The girl answers with a middle finger and tells him to go back to work and pretend she doesn’t even exist.

The girl tries to listen to the boys' conversation, debating how they’re going to implant the sensory chips into the suit and how sensitive they need to be. This is where Melissa zones out; she had no clue about the technical side they were discussing, like the type of chips they’d use and what was the difference between the two chips. When they talked about chips, she thought about the French fries she had for lunch. She wasn’t super bright like the boys or a miracle child genius like her sister used to be; well, she was still a genius, just not a child anymore. Melissa could write code, she was pretty good at coding and programming, but that’s about it; her expertise lay elsewhere.

She blankly stares at the table where the boys have now flipped the suit inside out and started to attach the sensor chips to their places. Harley had put his hair into a small bun and put on his glasses. His tongue slightly peaked between his lips as he tried to place the chip in its place with a pair of curved tweezers. He carefully pressed the chip to seal it, and Harry next to him confirmed if the chip had correctly attached and it was showing up on the computer.

Melissa sometimes forgot that her best friends were engineers and scientists, straight out of university, working for one of the biggest companies in the world. If you’d met them during free time, you’d think they were just normal twenty-three-year-olds, partying, making all the wrong choices before settling down, having pizza nights in someone’s living room while watching movies and drinking beer. They made her feel normal.

When Melissa had first met Harley, it was Tony’s funeral. Melissa had stayed back from the crowd with Lily and Aida. A tall, lanky figure with messy blonde hair had approached them, dressed in a black suit like the rest of the men there, introducing himself as Harley Keener. Tony had been a mentor to Harley over the years, helped him get into Empire, and was always ready to answer his calls when he needed help with his projects. They had met when Tony had broken into Harley’s family shed when he was 15. During the funeral, he mentioned looking for an internship to finish his engineering degree. Lily had suggested he apply to Stark Industries, as Harley already had connections, and her department was looking for two interns.

Harley then told Harry, his classmate, about the internships, and they applied; both were excellent students, and they got in with ease. Harley and Harry started the training at the same time as Melissa began her job as a nanny, meaning she spent more time in the Stark Tower. Melissa would visit her sister in the labs, who was the boys' trainer and every time, she spent more time with the boys than she spent with her sister. Cindy joined their group later that spring, she had started an internship with Dr Banner, who mainly worked in his personal laboratory, but sometimes they’d do collaborative work in the Tower labs. They studied gamma radiation and how it affected different organisms, primarily insects.

Melissa really couldn’t remember all the details of that study since it had big ‘science words’ that she couldn’t understand. Cindy had explained everything a million times to her, but she’d zone out when the words turned into something she couldn’t understand. All her friends were intelligent and successful, and she was just Melissa, a girl who dropped out of primary school at ten and had to do the rest of her education at the ripe age of nineteen, barely passing.

Melissa was glad Morgan was in the first grade, and the subjects she was learning were easy since it was her job to help the kid with her homework. Morgan didn’t really need help since she was a genius like her father, but sometimes she needed some push to do her homework since ‘it was too easy’ as Morgan had put it. Those times Melissa asked Harley to help. Morgan adored Harley, and Harley would give the girl more complicated stuff to work on to motivate the girl to do the easy stuff first. It had been under discussion if they’d move Morgan up a couple of years since she was already reading and writing fluently; her maths skills were almost the same as third graders, but Morgan herself had wanted to start from the first grade since all her friends were there.

Just then, Melissa’s phone beeps. It was Happy asking where Melissa was as he was back with Morgan. Melissa tells him to send Morgan into lab twelve D. Melissa knew that the boys wouldn’t mind Morgan; her dad had taught her well. She knew how to behave in a lab and what she was allowed to do. She loved wearing the white lab coats and safety goggles, parading around being the little scientist she was.

It didn’t take long, and Happy let Morgan into the lab before excusing himself and disappearing into the hallway. Morgan drops her school bag on the ground next to the door and tiptoes herself an oversized lab coat from the lowest coat hook. She pulls on the white jacket over her school uniform and marches toward Melissa, sitting on the chair, who greets the girl with open arms, ready to pull the girl into a bear hug.

“How was school today?” Melissa asks, letting go of the little girl.

“It was okay; we had maths in the first period, I already knew how to do everything, then in arts and crafts, we made hand turkeys since thanksgiving is this month, and we’re learning about it in history. And we ended the day with spelling exercises,” Morgan explains, barely taking any breaths between her sentences.

“That sounds like a day. Did you get homework?” The older girl takes the one sleeve of the lab coat the younger one was wearing, rolling it up, so it doesn’t get in Morgan’s way

“Yes, spelling and maths. But I know everything already, so can I go to see what the boys are doing?”

“We’ll do the homework later; you can’t start skipping homework on a first-grade, Miss. And yes, you can.” She finishes rolling up the other sleeve and pats Morgan on the shoulder.

Morgan shrieks in excitement, skipping over to Harley and Harry, carefully peeking between their figures what they were doing.

“Seems like we have top-level quality control” Harley smiles, putting down the tweezers and pushing his glasses on top of his head.

“This must be important since our boss is here”, Harry laughs, messing up Morgan's hair.

“What are you guys doing?” the girl asks, fixing her hair back.

“We are installing sensors into Silks’ new suit,” Harley explains.

The little girl looks at the inside out suit on the table, scratching her head in confusion.

“It looks weird.”

“Well, it’s inside out now, but I can show how it looks the right way.” Harley pushes himself with the saddle chair next to the computer. He clicks open a picture of the suit, and Morgan looks at the picture in amazement.

“Wow, that looks like a Spiderman suit! You’re making a suit for Spiderman?”

“No, we’re making a suit for Silk. She’s like Spiderman, but a girl.”

“There's a girl Spiderman?” Morgan exclaims.

“Yes, darling, there’s girl Spiderman.” Melissa walks up to Morgan, smiling.

“Does she know Spiderman? My daddy knew Spiderman; he talked about him a lot.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t asked,” Harley admits.

“You should ask! And then since you know girl Spiderman, she could bring the other Spiderman here and I could meet him! I want to meet Spiderman and girl Spiderman!” Morgan rambles.

“Since it's the boss’ order, we ask Silk if she knows Spiderman the next time we see her”, Harry promises.

Morgan and Melissa spend a little more time watching the boys install and test the sensors in the lab. Harley even let the girls try to install a couple of chips. Morgan gets it on right away and boasts about it to Melissa, whose shaky hands made her drop the chip on her first go. But when Morgan’s stomach rumbles, Melissa announces that it would be their time to leave to have something to eat and do Morgan’s homework. Morgan reluctantly heads out with Melissa, saying bye to the boys before the lab door closes.

#peter parker #peter parker fic #peter parker series #mcu spiderman #angst #eventual relationship #eventual romance #eventual smut #fluff #spiderman no way home #no way home #tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland fic #tom holland spiderman

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dameronology · 4 years

Text

tea & whiskey {jack daniels x reader} - 5

summary: you like jack. jack likes you. it doesn’t have to be complicated - but that’s now how things work. {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing

sorry for the huge gap between this update and the last one!! university has been manic and somehow writing 1500 words for an essay is much harder than writing 4k words for a fan fiction. i hope you enjoy!!

- jazz

You weren’t in a relationship.

This was not a relationship.

Sure, you spent every night at Jack’s apartment and sure, he made you dinner three times a week and sure, he did everything a boyfriend would but no, he was not your boyfriend. You didn’t do relationships - especially not with cowboys. This was, as you had agreed prior, just a bit of fun. It was nice not having to go back to an empty apartment in a strange city, and even nicer to wake up in his warm arms. Because that’s what Jack Daniels was: warm - and funny and kind, all things which continued to surprise you. Every time he offered to help you with your paperwork or made you coffee in the morning, you couldn’t help but ask why. For him, it was his second nature; he cared about you and so, he looked after you. For you, having been trained in an office where it was every man for himself, it was hard to get your head around.

You didn’t mean to let him do much for you. It was just that you hadn’t ever had anyone to look after you; it had always been you against the world. And, on the occasions he wasn’t being a pain in the ass, Eggsy.

Eggsy! Fuck.

You shot up in bed, almost rolling out as you realised what time it was. 7AM. Midday in London, where your best friend had been waiting for your call almost two hours ago. The daily phone call that had become, of recently, weekly. You hadn’t mean for your priorities to slip, but with both Calahan and Jack keeping you busy, it had become hard. You were already stretching yourself in a thousand different directions on a good day - then there were the days where you had three witnesses to do recon on, twenty arrests to file in the system and a suspect to interrogate. Eggsy knew firsthand what it was like but you’d been perfectly able to keep up with the daily calls during your first few weeks here - then Jack happened, and you’d started to slip. Completely unintentionally, of course, but was that not just part of adult life?

‘Jack!’ You tried to wriggle free of his grip, but it only tightened. ‘I gotta get up-’

‘- no, you don’t.’ He wrapped his arms your waist, pulling you into his chest. ‘It’s a Sunday. Like hell do you need to get up on a Sunday.’

‘I have to call Eggsy.’ You attempted to wrench his arms off of you.

Jack lifted his head off the pillow, revealing a tousled mess of dark hair and languid brown eyes. He blinked for a moment, offering you a sleepy smile when your eyes met.

‘Promise you’ll come back?’ He asked.

‘Promise.’ You pressed a quick kiss to his lips, smiling against him when he finally released you from his hold.

You pattered across the room, grabbing your phone off of the nightstand as you passed. As expected, there were six missed calls from Eggsy and a text with a a gif of a sad puppy. You felt a pang in your chest -- had you been a terrible friend? This was the longest time you’d spent apart in your entire lives. He was a constant presence and maybe that’s why you’d run to Jack so easily. No, you pushed that thought aside. You were with Jack because you liked him. It was nothing to do with anyone else.

‘Look who finally found the time to call me.’ Eggsy’s sarcastic drawl came down the phone after exactly two rings.

‘I am so sorry.’ You groaned. ‘I overslept.’

‘You never oversleep.’ He shot back. ‘You get up at 5am every Sunday to go for a run and watch Friends.’

‘You’re the one who was always banging on at me to start enjoying the luxuries of sleeping in.’ You reminded him. ‘So I did.’

‘I don’t believe you.’ Eggsy teased. ‘So how come you’re not at your apartment?’

You froze. ‘I am.’

‘Really? Because I tried your landline five times and you didn’t answer.’

‘What is this?’ You scowled. ‘Interrogate your best friend day or something?!’

‘Stop trying to change the subject.’ He shot back. ‘What’s his name?’

‘Whose name?’

‘The guy you’re clearly sleeping with.’

Another groan. ‘He doesn’t have one.’

‘He must do if it’s serious enough to distract you from...nevermind.’

‘From what?’ You asked.

‘Nothing. It doesn’t matter.’

‘Eggsy. Just tell me.’ You stressed. ‘It’s me.’

‘That’s my point.’ He replied. ‘Look, I didn’t want to say anything because it’s gonna make me sound like an arsehole, but you’ve been distant these past few weeks.’

‘I’ve been working. You know how important this job is.’ You sighed, running a hand through your hair. ‘And the timezone isn’t helping.’

‘You say that, but then you’re with a guy-’

‘- I’m not!’ You cut him off.

You were tired. Too tired for this. You loved your best friend but sometimes, his petulance could rub you the wrong way. You’d been so important to one another for so long that Eggsy sometimes acted a little...entitled. Entitled to every second of your attention, entitled to know every detail of everything in your life. Most of the time, you would divulge - and that probably didn’t help the situation - but this? You wanted to keep it yourself. It was personal. Too personal even for him.

‘You’re the one who left early to be with Tilde and I didn’t whine or kick up a fuss!’ You snapped.

‘So you had a problem-’

‘- I don’t have the energy for this right now.’ You cut him off. ‘It’s early and I’ve been working my arse off all week. This is my first day off in forever.’

‘And you still managed to find time for a hook up and not call me?’

‘It’s not a hook up.’ You quickly said. Quicker than you would have liked, actually. ‘I’m just doing something for me for once, Eggsy.’

‘I encourage it but not at the expense of-’

‘- of what?’ You snapped. ‘Of you?’

‘Exactly.’

‘I’m going back to bed.’ You announced.

‘But we haven’t spoken properly for days!’

‘Yeah, and you still managed to make this into a woe me, she’s doing things that don’t revolve around me! conversation.’ You sardonically laughed.

‘What do you want me to say? Sorry for missing you?’

Eggsy was attached to you. Probably a little too attached. It had caused problems early in his relationship with Tilde and he didn’t even know fully about Jack and was already kicking up a fuss. You couldn’t blame him; you’d grown up together, and you were the only constant person in his life. Whenever things had been bad at home, you were his escape. Whenever he found himself getting into trouble for hundredth time, you never strayed away from fighting his corner. He’d been there for you too; fighting off bad boyfriends and calling out any sexist co-workers. It was just that sometimes his sentiment extended a little too far, to the point where he got offended if he wasn’t the centre of your universe.

‘No, Eggsy.’ You murmured. ‘I just...I’m sorry I snapped, and I’m sorry I was shit and missed your call, but I’m not sorry for not giving you the 411 on everything I do.’

‘I give you the 411 on everything I do.’

‘And I’ve told you a million times that you don’t have have too.’ You replied. ‘I have a life outside our friendship and you’re going to have to get used to it.’

‘That wasn’t what I was trying to get at.’ Eggsy began. ‘I just meant that I know you and I know you don’t do relationships but it kinda seems like you’re doing one right now and I just...don’t forget about me, yeah?’

Glancing over your shoulder, you checked that the bedroom door was still closed. It wasn’t that you didn’t want Jack to hear, but discussing the private details of your thing together to somebody else wasn’t really something you wanted him to hear. Especially when he barely knew Eggsy.

‘I could never forget about you, Egghead.’ You softly smiled. ‘But this is not a relationship, okay? It’s just something to keep me busy whilst I’m in the city. Both parties are very much aware and I promise you that I know what I’m doing.’

(You didn’t).

‘Okay. I’ll let you get back to sleep.’ Eggsy chuckled. ‘Love you, old pal.’

‘Love you more, old chum.’

Your heart was a little heavy as you hung up. You missed him dearly but you liked what you had going here; people actually listened to you at Statesman and whatever the hell was going on with Jack felt good. You’d felt confident in what you’d said to Eggsy about it not being a relationship, but you couldn’t help but panic a tiny bit. What if you were slipping further and further towards the point of no return? What if you were becoming so comfortable that even if you did fall into some accidental, domestic situation, you were too attached to admit it? That went against everything you fundamentally were. Jack went against everything you fundamentally were - and yet, you were so ready to shrug it off. It wasn’t bad to let someone look after you, right? You could stop whenever you wanted, but it hadn’t reached that point just yet.

Jack was still awake when you crept back into the bedroom; he was staring at the ceiling, eyes heavy with sleep, but open nonetheless. He didn’t turn to look at you when you crawled back onto the mattress, instead just reaching an arm out towards you as you collapsed against his side. There was something...grounding about him. Steady and comforting. He spent most of his time humouring your finicky and pedantic nature, constantly reminding you to calm the fuck down and take a breather. He’d been teaching you to take things a little less seriously, and it felt good.

‘How’s Eggsy?’ He murmured quietly, eyes falling shut again.

‘He’s...’ you dropped your head against his shoulder, pondering for a moment. ‘Eggsy.’

Jack’s chest shook with a light chuckle. ‘You sounded a little stressed on the phone.’

‘He was just asking a lot of questions.’ You replied. ‘More than I have the answers to.’

‘About what?’ He asked. ‘Me?’

‘A little.’ You explained.

Jack made a quiet mmm sound, his grip on you tightening as he pulled you closer. He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled you under chin. You didn’t resist - he was comfortable and warm, and you felt safe like this. The actions were a direct antithesis to the vortex of panic and confusion in your brain. The more you did stuff like this - soft mornings and stolen kisses and sleepily pillow talk - the less easy it would become to cut it all off at a minute’s notice. It’s not that you wanted to do so, but knowing you could was what offered that extra little bit of comfort. It was like an extra fire escape in a big building, or an extra parachute on an airplane.

‘What are we, Jack?’ You asked quietly. ‘Jack?’

Your question was met with a snore.

Jack knew that something was off the following day.

You normally would have stayed at his apartment for the entire day, as you had for the last three weekends, but instead, you’d left at midday with a bullshit excuse about paperwork. He hadn’t argued it. Jack was very much aware of your shining individualism and need for time to yourself, so he didn’t think much of it. It was the same when you’d aired every text he’d sent, and the same when you didn’t ask him to give you a lift on Monday morning. He was a little torn between wondering if you were just being unwittingly taking time for yourself, or if he’d said or done something. Surely you would have said something, right? You always had done before. Of all the people he knew, you were the one who would call others out for their shit.

The final straw had come when you weren’t in the office when he got in. Your desk was empty, and there was no sign of you having been there at all since Friday. No faint smell of Chanel in the air, no discarded Starbucks cup or terribly written stick notes. Nothing that he’d come to associate you with.

‘Tequila?’ Jack stuck his head out the door, eyes catching his colleague’s as he drifted down the hall.

‘Boss?’ Tequila stopped, giving him a nod. ‘Sup?’

‘Have you seen Percy anywhere?’ He asked.

‘Yeah, she’s in Ginger’s office.’ He replied. ‘And damn, she looks good today. Heels and-’

‘- don’t drool.’ Whiskey cut him off. ‘It’s not a good look on you.’

Why were you in Ginger’s office? You never worked there. Heck, he didn’t know that the two of you were that close. You didn’t seem like the type of person who had time for friends. Eggsy was the exception, of course, but Jack saw him more as your weird, surrogate son than anything else.

Sure enough, Tequila had been right - about both things. You were in Ginger’s office and you did look amazing. Not that it was different from any other day, but you were wearing a new lipstick shade that day and your hair had been done slightly differently. He couldn’t blame the guy for making a comment on it, even if it had made his blood boil. Jack knew that he didn’t really have the right, because you weren’t...exclusive or anything. All part of him was beginning to wish you were, but he knew that wasn’t your style. This was the closest he was ever going to get and frankly, he was just grateful somebody as breath taking as you was giving him the time of day.

‘Hey, Whiskey.’ Ginger saw him first. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘I need my agent.’ Jack replied. ‘Got some paperwork on Calahan.’

‘I know, I’ve got it here.’ You glanced over your shoulder at him. ‘Ginger is helping me with it.’

‘Not that paperwork.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Other paperwork.’

‘We don’t have other paperwork, Ja- Whiskey.’

‘We do. And I need your help with it.’ He said. ‘Now.’

‘Like right now?’ You frowned.

‘Yes, agent.’

Agent? Had he just called you agent? Freaking Merlin called you that. It did make sense, because they were technically both your bosses, but Jack wasn’t...well, he was Jack. Jack who you’d spent every night with for the past three weeks. Jack who made you dinner every night. Jack who you’d had a thousand deep conversations with.

‘I guess I’ll see you around.’ You forced a smile at Ginger.

‘Sure thing!’ She smiled back, not picking up on the tension.

The pair of you walked back to your shared office in silence, shared for the sound of your heels on the floor and the traffic outside. Neither of you had spoken for twelve hours and yet, there was some kind of tense atmosphere slowly taking over the space between you with each passing second. For a pair that were normally so good at talking, you sure had failed at it.

Jack shut the door as soon as you entered - actually, he slammed it. It made you jump slightly, turning around to face him with a scowl.

‘The fuck’s going on, Whiskey?’

‘I could ask you the same thing.’ He grunted. ‘What’s with all the sudden quiet? You doing a sponsored silence or something?’

‘No.’ You leant against your desk, not faltering. He was lucky that looks couldn’t kill.

‘So why are you avoiding me?’

‘Why do you think I’m avoiding you?!’

‘I don’t know, darling - maybe the fact you left early yesterday, you’ve been ignoring my texts and calls and the fact you weren’t in the office this morning?’

‘Well, I guess you got me there.’ You muttered. ‘I just...Eggsy said something yesterday and it freaked me out a little.’

Jack faltered slightly. ‘What?’

‘He said it seemed like I was in a relationship.’ You explained. ‘And it made me realised that we’re really slipping towards that territory and it’s just not something I’m able to do.’

‘So, what? You wanna stop this whole thing?’

‘No!’ You exclaimed. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Hey, c’mhere.’ Jack crossed the room, gently taking your hands in his. ‘What are you so scared of, sweetheart?’

‘Nothing. I’m not scared of anything.’ You tried to puff your chest out, and he could only laugh.

‘I know what it’s about.’ He placed a hand on your cheek. ‘Remember all that shit you spewed about not needing anyone? About how you never needed anyone to look after you?’

You nodded.

‘It’s not that don’t need anyone - I think you’re scared to.’ He explained. ‘Now, I’m not saying you need me, because I think you might slap this hat right off my goddamn head if I do, but I am saying that maybe, just maybe, you’ve been bordering on the territory of letting me look after you these past few weeks., and that is scary for you.’

‘Maybe I have.’

‘And that’s okay, sugar.’ He stressed. ‘You’re allowed to want someone to look after you, without needing someone to look after you. There’s a difference.’

‘There is?’

‘You don’t know a damn thing, do you?’

‘I don’t think I do.’ You bit your lip, eyes falling to the ground.

Jack chuckled. ‘Everything we said still stands -- all that about this only being whilst you’re in New York, about it not getting in the way of our work. I know this is more serious than we planned but I’m still down for it if you are.’

‘I just...there is one more thing.’

‘What is it?’

‘Ginger and I were talking - not about you, you just kinda came up - and she uh...’

‘She said I’m the reason she’s not in the field, didn’t she?’

‘Yeah.’

‘That’s...that’s complicated.’

‘It doesn’t seem complicated.’ You urged. ‘She’s a good agent. She works hard and she at least deserves a chance.’

‘You trust me, don’t you?’

‘Why are you answering my questions with questions?’ You thinned your eyes at him. ‘But yeah, I do.’

‘Then trust me when I say that I have my reasons.’ He said. ‘Please?’

‘Yeah, okay.’

‘So, are we good?’

‘We’re good.’

You didn’t resist when Jack pulled you into a tight hug, or when he pressed a kiss to your forehead. He held your head to his chest, hand on the back of your head for a moment, letting out a small sigh. It was easy to listen to what he’d said, about trusting him and it’s complicated - in fact, it was a little hard to think about anything when the faint smell of his aftershave was swarming your senses, warm body pressed to yours.

But still, you couldn’t push away the nagging feeling at the back of your head.

taglist: @b0nnyzz @xremember-me-notx @somenerdyuser @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @javisjeanjacket @phoenixhalliwell @no-droids-on-sunday @paintballkid711 @waatermelon-sugaar @hepburnwritess @haileyybird @xjaywritesx @jabbajambler @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @welcometothepedroverse @wickedmuse (if you wanna be added, pls drop me a msg!)

#this was meant to end with angst but i couldn't do it #and i had to include the ginger thing because its mentioned in the movies and i have my theory #but more on that next chapter #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey imagine #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels imagine #pedro pascal character headcanons

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montosmadman · 3 years

Text

I was tagged by @soy-celeste ages ago. This was hard but also super rewarding because I really got to take a deep dive in the murky depths of my own music library. Thanks for thinking of me, Cata💕

Task: choose TEN SONGS that describe your personal aesthetic / how you see yourself. Bonus points if you write a little explanation for each song, that‘s not a must though.

List under a read more because it turned out really long and includes some very personal and possibly triggering mental health stuff.

I'm tagging @capitanogiorgio @hendos @furiousflamewolf @checoswin and @diegoalvesisgod

1. Nakashima Mika - 僕が死のうと思ったのは

The title loosely translates to "The reason I thought I'd die" or "The time I thought I'd die". Yes, I went there right off the bat.

Let's get something straight: I'm not suicidal. I have never been actively suicidal, despite struggling with depression and anxiety most of my teenage/adult life. However, what this song captures for me is the feeling when you're not actively thinking about killing yourself, but you do have this empty feeling when you think there's no point for you being alive. And that's something I'm very familiar with.

There are a couple lines I wanna highlight, even though the whole song hits me very hard whenever I listen to it:

その木漏れ日でうたた寝したら、虫の死骸と土になれるかな

If I lie down beneath the sunlight streaming through the trees, will I become like the dirt and insect remains?

あなたのような人が生きてる世界に少し期待するよ

If people like you are living in this world, then maybe it’s alright to hope a little too.

The first line does what I talked about to above: it's the feeling when you just lie down and wonder if anything would change if you just disappeared. The second line -- last one of the song -- has more hope. It's when you find a reason to believe in the future and realize there is still a reason to live. Personally, I'm trying to hang very hard on that last thought even when the world seems to be against me.

(Full translation in a pinned comment under the Youtube video)

2. The Ark - Little Dysfunk You

No essay here. I just needed to have The Ark on the list because they're the official soundtrack of my life, the first band whose album I bought myself, and who taught me it was okay not to fit in. I even have a tattoo that says "a little dysfunk" because my best friend and I have been relating to this song long before either one of us realized we weren't neurotypical. It's the very dysfunctional ode to our friendship, and I love it.

3. Elton John - Rocket Man

I feel like this might be a universal experience growing up neurodiverse and/or an outsider. You spend years feeling like you're alone in space, on another planet, and you want to connect with people but at the same time know that once you come back, you still won't be the person others want or expect you to be. The challenge is to accept that and realize it's okay and you don't need to change yourself for others. And it really is hard when you're raised in a society where the odds are stacked against you.

4. Sanni - Jos mä oon oikee

Look, I'm giving you something in Finnish too!

Sanni is one of the Finnish artists whose breakthrough I originally missed because I was living abroad. I only properly discovered her a couple years after moving back, when I was driving a lot for my work and hence listening to the radio much more than I used to. Her songs just kept standing out from the rest: her lyrics had this amazing depth even when she was singing about mundane stuff -- like, she was finding these painful truths I hadn't ever spoken but felt very clearly.

That said, I had to choose the one song that's actually very upfront with this idea of being an outsider and not feeling like a part of this world. The title translates to "If I am real" and that pretty much sums it up. It's a song about feeling lonely in the middle of a crowded room, feeling like no one sees you or cares what you do. I personally have this habit of taking a step back and observing people rather than getting involved -- and even when I do, it rarely feels like it's really me out there, because I'm so used to masking and acting like everyone else just to fit in, you know?

I'll finish this off with my favourite verse, translated by yours truly. The last line especially hits home super hard no matter how many times I hear it.

Rautatieasema maanantaina ruuhkaisa Kaikilla tuntuu olevan kiire ja suunta Mä oon ulkopuolella vaik seison sisällä Jos oon jo kotona miten voi olla koti-ikävä

The railway station on Monday is crowded Everyone seems to be in a rush and have a direction I'm outside even though I'm standing inside How can I feel homesick when I'm already home

5. Shobha - Last Exit To Freedom

Full disclosure: Degrassi has been one of my comfort series for many, many years. When this song was first introduced in Next Class, it hit me really hard because it was woven into this whole storyline about depression and suicide, which at the time spoke to me a lot. I repeat, I have never been suicidal, but I do get the headspace that could drive people into it.

However, listening to it again now, it's mostly the message of hope that shines through to me. It's a song that can take two very different readings depending on what your own baggage is. And the series actually acknowledges that later on, which I think is not only beautiful but also extremely important.

There's empty places in my life and I need to breathe There's empty spaces on the map waiting there for me

I've never felt more free than when I actually drop my responsibilities and just go where I want to go. I need that space to breathe, and that's why it has always been such a relief when I could just pack up and start over in a new place. Some might call it running away from my troubles -- and they wouldn't be completely wrong -- but that doesn't change the fact that I've always valued my own freedom above any arbitrary societal norms.

6. Scandinavian Music Group - Näin minä vihellän matkallani

SMG is another one of those bands I grew up on and have seen live several times, so they needed to be here. This song is more on the "aesthetic" end of scale than how I see myself. In fact, I've many times hoped I could be like the narrator of this song. I'll give you a couple of verses to explain:

Kun minulta viedään kaikki Autan kantamaan Ja kun lopulta kaadun Teen sen näyttävästi

When everything's taken from me I'll help them carry it And when I finally fall I'll do it with a flair

Minä vihellän matkallani Näin minä vihellän matkallani Jos sen on oltava niin Olkoon sitten niin

I'm whistling on my journey See how I'm whistling on my journey If this is how things have to be Then so be it

It's this carefree attitude. Laughing in the face of hardship and controversy. There's another amazing line about getting back to the saddle after you fall and swearing you'd do it all over again. I've never been able to do that, because I carry all my old failures and pains so close to the surface, and could never just shake them off with a shrug, no matter how minor.

But on another level, I keep hearing from people who I thought knew me that I don't seem depressed. And who can blame them: on the outside, it probably looks like I bounce back from hardships really fast, because I'm so used to masking my issues that the moment I'm physically capable of doing it, I will. So you might say this song is a picture of my outer self, though it hardly mirrors what's really going on.

7. Queen - Don't Stop Me Now

I'm a firm believer that if my life was a teen movie, this is the song I'd have playing in the final scene where I'd just go "fuck that" and started dancing with @mirkwoodstock in the middle of the parking lot of something. It's my ultimate party anthem, the one that always has me dancing and singing along no matter where I am.

Back when we were at the university, Nanna and I used to go to this rock'n'roll club in town and they'd always play Don't Stop Me Now close to the end of the night, and it really became our song. Like, no matter how shitty I felt, when it came on, I'd be there, and so would she. And that's why it also deserves to be on the list.

8. Blind Channel - Died Enough For You

Throwing a rare newer song into the mix. The moment I heard this song, I knew I'd be listening to it a lot. There's also an acoustic version if you're not a fan of the genre or if you just wanna have a different perspective. Blind Channel is also representing Finland in Eurovision next week, and I'm living for it.

Advertising aside, Died Enough For You takes me to some really dark times in my life. I've been in relationships, both romantic and not, where I've been carrying the other person and giving so much of myself, risking my own mental health (which was not that good to begin with) and not getting much in return. There comes a point where you have to prioritize yourself and admit that dragging yourself into the same abyss is not going help anyone. Unfortunately, usually it takes more strength to admit that and leave than to stay in the relationship that's hurting you.

I'm still talking to some of these people, but I've learned to give myself a permission to sign off when I notice that by helping them I'm only hurting myself more. Someone else's wellbeing cannot be my responsibility when I'm struggling to keep myself afloat. And I truly hope everyone who is supporting me also knows that.

9. Aqua Timez - 真夜��のオーケストラ

Title translates to "Midnight Orchestra". Yes, it's from Naruto. I discovered it back when I was still more involved in anime fandom stuff, and fell for it again year ago when I binged the anime when to lockdowns started, because I needed an escape.

And what an escape it was. Have you ever heard a song and immediately went "I need a tattoo of this", or is that just me? I'm probably not going to get a tattoo because I don't trust non-Japanese artists to get the kanjis right, but the song still captures something very real about loneliness that's not really visible but still very much there. Like, the moment when you meet a person you can truly relate to and for the first time realize you'd been feeling lonely all that time. That's what this song describes to me.

Below are a few verses towards the end of the song. I've bolded the one that first caught my attention (and which I still have as the title of my Japan sideblog).

真夜中の詩が叫んだ「僕ほんとうは独りが　嫌いだ　大嫌いだ」独りぼっちで　生きてゆけてしまうなんてこと

The song of midnight cried out "I truly hate being alone more than anything" I hate to go on living completely alone…

幸せなんて　小さなスプーンで掬えるくらいで充分なんだ分け合える人がいるか　いないかだけ

All I need is being able to scoop happiness with a tiny spoon so long as I have someone to share it with

(Full translation)

真夜中の詩は叫ぶよ「僕ほんとうは　僕ほんとうは　淋しかった」太陽の眩しさに　かき消されても

The song of midnight cried out "I was truly, truly… lonely" Even if I were to be erased by the sun's radiance

10. Jenni Vartiainen (Apulanta) - Mato

This song, named "Worm", was originally released by Finnish rock band Apulanta in 1997. The lyrics, while they might make sense as individual statements, are basically gibberish when you combine them into one piece and try to understand the meaning. There is none. Anyways, the version I chose is a remake by another artist, first performed on the Finnish version of The Best Singers format. It doesn't make any more sense, I just like it better because Jenni is hot and she made it so much fun.

And the reason it's on this list? Welcome to my brain, folks! Sometimes, especially when I'm overwhelmed by lots of external stimuli, my mind tends to just wander wherever the hell it pleases and make connections even I don't get. It also likes to forget the stuff I said just a second a go, so I can switch subjects on the go without even noticing. It's very soothing to have music that doesn't require me to make those connections when that happens.

And now, I shall close this massive post with the first verse of this masterpiece:

Minä tahdon ulos, tahdon ulos kattilasta Minä tahdon pelastaa vielä sinutkin kiehumasta Minä tahdon lentää ulos vessan ikkunasta Minä tahdon tietää kaiken teidän karkkimaasta

I want out, I want out of this kettle I also want to save you from boiling I want to fly out of the toilet window I want to know everything about your candy land

Stay safe and take care of yourselves my dears💕

#tag meme #long post #music #neurodiversity #mental health #tw suicide #tw depression #tw mental health #tw toxic relationship

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cosmic-goddess-leo · 5 years

Text

First Love / Late Spring Pt. 2

Kuroo Tetsuro x Reader

Series Summary: Reader was once a nationally recognized volleyball player until an injury she suffered her last year of high school. She and Kuroo knew each other vaguely through a mutual friend but lost contact after her injury. Now they attend the same University in Tokyo and are beginning to reconnect.

Chapter Summary: Kuroo and (Y/n) find something they have in common. Kuroo attends his first college party.

Word Count: 3263

Author’s Note: Here’s chapter 2! Thanks so much for reading and leaving messages, it means a lot to get positive feedback from everyone! Ps. I swear I don’t hate Bokuto, I just love drama.

It was only 4 and Kuroo was already exhausted.

He had mentally prepared himself enough energy to get through all his classes for the day, but not to run into (Y/n).

His day peaked when he got her number, now it was all downhill.

Or so he thought.

“This seat taken?”

Kuroo looked up at the owner of the voice, smirking when he realized it was (Y/n).

“First and last class of the day together, huh?” he mused, making room for her to sit beside him.

“Guess so, we have any other gen-eds together?” she asked, flopping onto the empty chair.

Kuroo pulled his planner out of his messenger bag, flipping it open to the page containing his class schedule. Despite what others would think, Kuroo was a very organized person.

(Y/n) leaned closer, tracing her finger over the multiple classes, times and locations. “Looks like we have another two together tomorrow.”

“Stalkerrrr~” Kuroo sang, earning a pinch to his arm.

“You wish.” (Y/n) countered.

“Maybe so.”

Shit. Was that out loud?

Thankfully (Y/n) laughed rather than pepper-spraying him and running away.

“Guess I didn’t need to sharpie my phone number onto your hand then...” she trailed off, clearly embarrassed.

“Your handwriting is nice enough. I figured it was an excuse to hold my very soft, very warm hand,” he shrugged.

“I already had your jacket,” (Y/n) smiled, “Why would I need any other sources of warmth?”

Kuroo tilted his head at her, flashing her another smirk, “Loneliness.”

Before she could reply, their professor entered the room and began the lecture.

At least he was being his usual brand of cool and collected rather than tripping all over himself like some sap.

The two exchanged a couple notes here and there, mostly joking about the professor and the typos they spotted in the syllabus.

Kuroo had to stifle his laughter when (Y/n) highlighted and underlined a section of the syllabus saying there would be no note passing in class. Every time Kuroo would write a new note, she would shoot him a playful glare while pointing at the section.

5:15 finally rolled around and the two darted out of the classroom like bats out of hell.

“God, he talked so slow.” Kuroo groaned.

“He’s an old man,” (Y/n) said, defending the professor, “But also, I know I’m gonna fall asleep in that class sometime this semester.”

Kuroo chuckled and adjusted his messenger bag as they left the building.

The rain had stopped hours ago, shifting into a light mist.

“So what building are you in now?”

“Oh, that was actually my last class of the day, I was just going to head home.” (Y/n) said. She made a move to unzip the jacket, but Kuroo lightly flicked her hand away.

“I’m done for the day too, how about I walk you home?” Too wholesome. “You can continue stealing my jacket until we get there.” Better.

(Y/n) smiled and looked down at her feet, trying to avoid small puddles along the sidewalk. “As long as it’s not too much trouble for you...”

“I can always use the exercise,” he said, “just lead the way.”

As the two walked through campus, they continued talking about their classes and first impressions on their new classmates, as well as what was going on with old classmates.

Kuroo was in the middle of telling (Y/n) about how Kenma was at a different university in Tokyo when (Y/n) almost fell forward.

“Is this man kidnapping you?!” Bokuto yelled, hugging (Y/n) from behind and causing her to lose her balance.

Kuroo chuckled awkwardly as (Y/n) wrestled to get Bokuto off of her. A couple students passing by looked on, slightly concerned.

“God, you’re such a spaz! Stop!” She squealed, regaining her balance once Bokuto released her.

“Kuroo’s here too!” Bokuto announced to himself, “It’s really a small world after all!”

“Sure is, buddy...” Kuroo said, allowing Bokuto to give him a quick hug.

“Where are you two headed?” he asked, pulling out of the hug and glancing between the two.

“I was actually just walking (Y/n) home.” Kuroo admitted, watching (Y/n) shift around in place through the corner of his eye.

“Ooooh, I’ll join you! What kind of bestie would I be if I didn’t accompany you two!” Bokuto latched onto (Y/n)’s arm in the blink of an eye, taking hold of her hand and lacing his fingers with hers.

Kuroo opted to remain on the opposite side of (Y/n) for the rest of their walk. If he were on the other side, Bokuto would be sandwiched between the two of them, making Kuroo feel even more awkward.

About halfway through the walk, Kuroo began to recognize the route they were taking to (Y/n)’s apartment. Once they stopped on front of the building, Kuroo felt his stomach do a backflip.

“This is me!” (Y/n) said, motioning to the large complex.

“I guess that means it’s just me and Kuroo now.” Bokuto said, turning towards Kuroo.

“Actually, this is my building too...” Kuroo trailed off, looking from the floor he lived on to (Y/n).

“No way! That’s so crazy!” Bokuto laughed.

(Y/n) smiled before giving Bokuto a quick hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow then!”

“See you tomorrow! Bye Kuroo!” Bokuto allowed (Y/n) to pull out of the hug before waving goodbye to the two and walking off.

They didn’t speak until they entered the complex

“So... you two are still close, huh?” Kuroo asked, following (Y/n) to the elevator.

She nodded, sighing softly as she pressed the elevator button. “Yeah... he was really great when I got injured and all. That’s not really the kind of friend you let go of...”

Kuroo could sense a somber tone to her voice but didn’t want to pry for any details that would be too personal.

Before he was even given the opportunity, the two reached for the same floor button, looking at each other in disbelief once they had pressed it.

“There’s no way we live on the same floor and haven’t seen each other by now...” (Y/n) said, shaking her head.

“When did you move in? I got in about 2 weeks ago.”

“A month ago...” (Y/n) replied.

Once they reached their floor, they walked in the same direction down the hall, stopping at their doors... right beside each other.

Kuroo couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, it was all too bizarre and convenient, like they were living out some drama on tv.

“It really is a small world, huh?” Kuroo snickered.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes at him, unlocking her door and propping it open with her foot. “Lemme put my stuff down so I can give you back your jacket.”

“No no, maybe you should hold onto it.” Kuroo smiled, leaning against his own door. “It suits you...”

The slight tint to (Y/n)’s cheeks made Kuroo smirk and watching her begin to fidget with one of the long sleeves was the cherry on top of the interaction.

“Thank you... you’re really working to get that party invite huh?”

“Maybe so,” he chuckled, “better than just sitting next-door and listening to it.”

“I’ll text you then... See you tomorrow, Kuroo.”

Kuroo watched her retreat into her apartment before entering his own. He went from hardly ever speaking to her to suddenly being her neighbor WITH 4 classes together. AND an invitation to her next party... whenever that would be.

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(Y/n)’s party came sooner than expected. After the first week of classes to be exact.

The text she had sent to Kuroo claimed it was to celebrate their first week of “the rest of their lives.”

It sounded cheesy, but it was an excuse to drink.

-Is there a theme?

(Y/n) gave Kuroo a deadpan look after reading the note he had scribbled on her journal before writing back.

-It’s not Halloween or Valentine’s Day...so no

-Tsk Tsk every good party has a theme

-The theme is don't get hungover

Kuroo snickered quietly, lightly nudging (Y/n)’s elbow with his own.

Once class was dismissed, the two began packing their bags.

“Are you going to need any help setting up?” he asked, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder.

“I think I got it, I got the drinks, I’m gonna order us pizza, and my flat is pretty much all clean. I just need to get my homework done before it starts.”

Kuroo huffed under his breath something about homework being for after the party and during the hangovers.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes playfully, lightly taking hold of the sleeve of Kuroo’s flannel and leading him out of the building.

“If you really wanna help you can come over and help me out with the short essay we just got assigned.” she offered.

“You always brag about how great you are at writing essays, yet here you are! Asking for my help,” he scoffed.

“Hey, I’m only offering since you’re obviously dyyyying for my attention.”

Well, she had him there.

Kuroo masked his embarrassment with another scoff. “Well I’d rather be helping a pretty girl prepare for her party than sit alone in my apartment, WAITING for the pretty girl’s party... but I guess I can settle for helping you with your essay.”

“You sound like Bokuto,” she grumbled, “I can barely handle one of him as it is.��

Kuroo raised an eyebrow at her, “I sound like him because we both think you’re pretty?”

“No, you’re both difficult...” (Y/n) sighed, adjusting her bag. “And I don't think he thinks I’m pretty.”

Kuroo scoffed, combing his fingers through his hair. “He looks like he’s smitten every time he’s around you...”

Kuroo wasn’t sure if he had hit a sore spot or not. He figured he would have to bring up the elephant in the room at some point.

“Men... are unreadable.” was (Y/n)’s only reply.

“Some women like a man who is mysterious.” He smirked down at her, wiggling his eyebrows slightly and earning a giggle from her.

“Mystery is hot and all, but sometimes you need someone straightforward... we’ve been kinda dancing around each other since I moved to Japan with my dad... A game of cat and mouse is fun, but... sometimes the cat AND the mouse just need a break-”

Kuroo suddenly pulled (Y/n)’s body against his. Once her head made contact with his chest, she realized she was about to walk into the middle of the road as traffic whizzed past them.

(Y/n) slowly looked up at him, and it took all of Kuroo’s will power not to look back at her. Instead he watched the traffic until the pedestrian walk sign flashed on.

He reluctantly released his grip on her, finally taking the chance to meet her gaze. (Y/n) gave him a small, grateful smile.

She then took hold of his flannel sleeve and continued walking with him, chatting the whole way home.

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Kuroo wasn’t sure why (Y/n) felt the need to change after they finished their work, he sure wasn’t going to. Now that he thought of it, maybe the party was supposed to be nicer than he thought. He looked down at himself; his jeans were nice enough, the flannel was new, and he couldn’t do much about the black t-shirt he was wearing underneath.

Maybe he was overthinking things. Maybe he should brush his hair. Why is this woman making me question my fashion?!

All she changed into was a t-shirt and a skirt, nothing too fancy. Though her thigh high socks did give off a classy/sexy vibe that Kuroo was feeling.

Guests began arriving, making the apartment more and more noisy. (Y/n) said it would only be a small crowd of close friends, but apparently those close friends invited their close friends.

The only person Kuroo thought to invite was Kenma, and even then, that was one person who did enough speaking for half a person.

(Y/n) was off, being a good host, while Kuroo was left to his own devices. Despite the number of women at the party who approached him, trying to get his attention, he would say something along the lines of ‘looking for (Y/n)’ and that would send them on their way.

He eventually took a seat beside Kenma on the couch, taking the drink Kenma had been watching for him and chugging it down.

He grimaced and set the empty cup aside.

“Why did you offer to help finish off her vodka when you know you’re not a fan?” Kenma sighed, keeping his eyes on the movie (Y/n) had put on for ‘background noise.’

“Because, she looked very distraught when she told me how her mom sent it over but she could never get through it.” Kuroo replied, looking around the crowd.

“Just take it easy and drink water. That looks enough like vodka.” was Kenma’s simple suggestion. “Or maybe you should just grin and bear it.”

“Why do you say that?” Kuroo asked, turning to look at his friend.

“Well,” he pointed into the crowd, “your girlfriend is dancing over there. And we all know you don’t dance... willingly. So, you should get over there before she fades into the crowd again.”

Kuroo rubbed a hand over his face, feeling a small sense of dread flood his brain. He took the drink Kenma had been nursing, took a swig, then handed it back to him before getting up and maneuvering through the crowd.

He tapped her shoulder, narrowly dodging her body as she whipped around to face him.

“You’ve been looking for me?” she asked, leaning towards him slightly and resting her hands on his forearms.

He looked at her, clearly confused.

She smiled, pulling him closer, “Like 10 different people told me you were trying to find me.”

Fuck. Of course.

“I just wanted to make sure we didn’t have any party crashers...?” He fibbed, keeping his feet planted firmly on the floor as (Y/n) attempted pulling him into the small group of dancers.

“Oh, I don’t know some of them yeah, but... whatever keeps you occupied right?”

She sounded unsure of herself. What little glances Kuroo caught of her throughout the night was when she was double checking her bedroom door was locked.

“Why don’t you dance with me?” she whined, swinging his arms slightly.

“O-oh, I’m not really a dancer. I prefer to watch.” He coughed.

“I’ll show you then,” she insisted.

Thankfully, her dancing wasn’t anything really provocative. It was a little all over the place, full of spins and twirls, something fun that Kuroo didn’t really have to try too hard with. The best part was getting to pull (Y/n) flush against him after each twirl. The way she’d laugh and place her hands on his chest was intoxicating.

The moment was cut short as (Y/n) pulled her phone out of her skirt pocket. She apologized to Kuroo before leaving to answer the door.

Kuroo returned to the couch beside Kenma, watching as (Y/n) let Akaashi in. He said something to her that made her expression turn sour. She quickly put on a happy face before hugging him and ushering him into the apartment.

Akaashi, like anyone else, joined the few people he knew and accompanied Kuroo and Kenma on the couch.

Their greetings were short, as Kuroo was eager to know what he had said to (Y/n).

“Just that Bokuto was sad he couldn’t make it... Something came up.” Akaashi said, shaking his head slightly as he glanced around at the drink selection on the nearby table.

Kuroo stared off in the direction he last saw (Y/n), chewing on his lip as he thought of what he could say to bring her mood back up.

“She’s in her room. Go.” Kenma ordered, narrowing his eyes at Kuroo.

“I can’t just barge in there and-”

“Yes, you can. I’m sick of that dumb, kicked puppy look you have on your face right now. So get in there and say something sappy before I throw you in there myself.”

Kenma was hardly ever so forward about his frustrations with Kuroo. Even on Nekoma’s team he tended to keep grievances to himself unless he was pushed into doing otherwise.

Kuroo gulped before getting off the couch and rushing to the bedroom. The door was left slightly ajar, allowing Kuroo to hear (Y/n) on the other side.

She was either talking on the phone or in a one-sided argument. Either way, she was upset. Despite the loud music, she kept her voice low for fear of someone overhearing her.

“It’s either we don’t see enough of each other or we see each other too often. What do you want from me... Then you send Akaashi to give me the bad news instead of just texting me or calling me...”

She sighed deeply, hugging herself with her free arm.

“You always say that... you always say the timing is bad. Then you act like everything is fine, like we’re still teenagers making out under the bleachers...”

(Y/n) suddenly picked up her head, the hand holding her phone shaking slightly.

“Well don’t let me stop you from having a good time. Just don’t try calling me when you’re done.”

Kuroo watched the phone get tossed onto the dresser adjacent to the bed. He could hear a loud thump as (Y/n) flopped onto her bed.

He waited a moment before knocking on the door. It took (Y/n) a moment to respond and give him permission to enter.

He peeked inside first, waiting for her to motion fo him to come closer.

Sitting at the edge of her bed, he gently brushed his knuckles over her shoulder, frowning as she practically ignored his touch.

“Everything okay...?”

(Y/n) quickly nodded her head, sniffling softly.

“Are you sure...?”

(Y/n) paused before shaking her head.

“Do you want to be alone-”

“No.” She quickly interjected. She bit her lip, slowly taking Kuroo’s hand off her shoulder and holding it in hers. “I just... I want the strangers out of my flat.”

Kuroo nodded, “I can ask them to leave in a bit... how about we get you some pizza?”

She shook her head once more, “I don’t want pizza... I want the biggest bowl of ramen I could get my hands on...”

He slowly smiled, scooting closer to her and giving her hand a small squeeze.

“I don’t know about the biggest bowl you can get your hands on, but there's a ramen shop close by that’s open late... It can just be us two, or we invite the few people here we know and go in a group... Anything you want.”

(Y/n) rested her head on Kuroo’s shoulder, seeming to relax against him. “That sounds perfect... Especially since I haven’t seen Akaashi in so long...”

It wouldn’t be just the two of them, but the first step to spending time alone with someone was spending time with them in a group setting. Yeah, that was comforting.

“We should go clear out the vagrants then.” he snickered, making a move to get off the bed.

(Y/n) gripped him tighter, lightly pulling him back onto the bed. “Can we stay here just a little longer?”

He silently nodded his head, giving her a comforting smile as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer.

Kuroo had no idea what Bokuto had said to her over the phone, but whatever it was left her in this rough state. He could talk to her about it once they returned from dinner, for now all he could do was ground her and hold her close.

#First Love Late Spring Series #Haikyuu!!#Haikyuu imagines #Haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurō #Kuroo Tetsurō x Reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader

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danyka-fendyr · 5 years

Text

Wildfire - 1

Chapter 1: Bibbity Boggarty Boo

Should I have been writing the next chapter of Absence of Good? Yes. Should I definitely have been trying to write a Reylo oneshot I said I would write weeks ago? Oh, absolutely. But instead I got inspired to start a whole new series based off of Harry Potter, and so here we are. Sometimes I just have to follow where the inspiration leads, and if the several different Reylo drafts just aren’t working out, a George Weasley fic is what happens apparently. Anyway sorry to literally all of my followers who did not ask for this.

Taglist: @dreamwritesimagines @rhabakoli

Wordcount: 2501

Warnings: Death. Themes of war. Abuse of power. Injury/gore.

Magic is a tricky thing. It is alive in its own way, not a tool but a force, unstoppable and scarcely controllable, wild and bright. If you are lucky enough to see it, to touch it, to have it run through your veins and into your children’s, you can maybe understand something of the untamable nature of magic. It has been argued that magic does not choose, but that it is only transferred, passed down through those of the purest blood. But…over the years, you have come to see different. Much as the wand chooses the witch, you are inclined to believe magic chooses the witch as well, and doesn’t have much to say as far as blood goes.

Convincing Professor Binns of that in the longest essay you had ever been assigned would be considerably more work. The professor could be a bit archaic as far as muggleborn rights went, which was all the more infuriating for you as a muggleborn. However, the man was dead, so you felt you had to give him a certain amount of credit for even still grading papers and teaching class, half-hearted prejudice aside. Binns’ refusal to throw hands with Malfoy, while not perhaps relatable, was at least understandable. You also often found it difficult to feel any amount of passion or human emotion sometimes.

“I just want to go to sleep,” you groaned.

“Awww, is little Y/N tired?”

Fred Weasley cooed over you, clearly unaware of how dangerously close he would be to death if you just had slightly more energy. That being said, you didn’t have slightly more energy, so maybe this was strategically advantageous for him. Nobody ever accused the Weasley twins of being stupid. Well, except for you sometimes.

“Don’t mess with me right now Weasley.”

“Oh no Georgie, she’s using my last name.”

“Our last name, Freddie. Maybe she was talking to me. Y/N dear, which one of us were you talking to?”

“Yes.” Your voice was slightly muffled from where you had just leaned forward into the table, carefully avoiding your freshly inked parchment.

“Well now, that’s not very nice. What did I do?”

“I’m sick and I have the world’s longest paper to write from Binns and I am in turns hot and cold which means the fire is both my best friend and actual Satan.” Also we are on the verge of war. Also the Dark Lord is back. Also there is a pink toad trying to run Hogwarts like a dictatorship. “I’m not in the mood to be messed with.”

You glanced up tiredly, ready to give a baleful glare, only to find a concerned looking George Weasley. Fred hovered behind him, his face also worried as he took in your red nose, watery eyes and miserable countenance.

“Love, why haven’t you gone to the hospital wing?” George asked.

“Because I can’t bring myself to drag my way all the way through this stupid castle just to get a freaking Pepper Up potion. In short, I’m lazy.”

You patted the couch next to you, gesturing for him to sit down so that at the very least he could give you that concerned look in comfort. He sat like he was on pins and needles, which you shouldn’t have been surprised by.

As long as you had known him, George Weasley had never been one not to take action. Fred got much of the credit for being the idea man, but the truth was that if George Weasley wasn’t moving he was dying inside. He was also just a tad bit protective, especially of you.

You attributed this to the fact that when you were a sweet, innocent muggleborn first year you may have lost your temper and managed to completely eviscerate Marcus Flint without ever laying a finger on him. Not that it was hard to emotionally damage a 13-year-old boy with teeth that jacked up. Anyway, Marcus had decided to go for a less pacifistic method of revenge and George Weasley had swooped in to rescue you, Fred in tow. It didn’t take long to become friends with the guys who had saved you from the hospital wing.

You leaned into his side, sniffling quietly, only to have him launch up and swiftly be replaced by Fred trying to prevent you from falling over.

“I’ll be right back,” George said, a determined look on his face and no explanation on his lips.

You raised an eyebrow at Fred. “So, should I expect him back in 5 minutes or 3 hours?”

“I bet you a chocolate frog he’s back in 5 minutes.” Fred grinned.

“That’s not fair. You always win bets about George.”

“I wonder why.”

You rolled your eyes before resuming staring at the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, its warm flames licking the faded brick, staining it soot black, Death Eater black. These days it seemed like everything in your head came back to Death Eaters. And if it wasn’t Death Eaters, it was Umbridge.

You had to admit to being petrified by Umbridge. It wasn’t that she didn’t make you angry. She did. But you also knew what she did to students who misbehaved, had seen the scars settling into Harry Potter’s hand, had once even caught George trying to hide blood from you.

“Georgie, what’s that?” You stopped him on his way up to the dorms.

You were up late studying, and it was well past the hours any decent human being should be awake. You were up though, trying to puzzle out a potions assignment and meeting with very little success. George, apparently, was also up, and clutching his sleeve in a very odd, suspicious fashion.

“It’s nothing. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” He turned away from you, framing the arm in question in shadow.

“Did you hurt yourself working on new products again?” You asked, crossing the room to inspect his arm. You pushed the sleeve back, chatting as you went. “You really have to be more careful. I know there’s a lot of demand, but you can’t put your health at risk just fo-”

You gave a small gasp when you saw the words scrawled into his arm, blood still fresh, jagged little bits of skin speckled with red darker than his hair, more ominous. I must not make mischief.

“Who did this to you?” You knew the answer, but you had to ask.

“Really, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Go to bed.”

He tried to pull his arm out of your grasp, but you held on, careful not to hurt him. Gently, you edged a single finger around the clean skin surrounding the wound. Your other hand had found its way into his, fingers lacing together in your horror, tears in your eyes.

She shouldn’t be allowed to do this to him. No one should be allowed to do this to him. This shouldn’t happen to good people like George Weasley. He didn’t deserve it.

“Hey,” he said softly, wiping a tear off your cheek. “It’s alrigh’ love, I’m fine. Just a flesh wound.”

“We should uh..” You took a shaky breath. “We should clean it up.”

You lead him over to the couch, leaving him to wait while you headed to your room and grabbed some spare bandages and ointment from a first-aid kit your mother insisted you take to Hogwarts with you every year.

“We’ll have you better in no time,” You promised with false cheer.

“Pepper Up potion!” George announced triumphantly. “Fred and I use it all the time when we’re testing products. We’ll have you better in no time.”

You had more reason to be afraid of Umbridge than just what you had seen though. The truth was that while you tended to be docile as a lamb when people attacked you, you didn’t like it when people attacked the people you loved. You had gone after Umbridge and paid the price in long sleeves and muggle makeup, but some mean, dark, spiteful thing inside of you said that every detention was worth it despite the pain.

You couldn’t let the twins know though. If George saw the words carved into the back of your hand and up your arm in your own loops and swirls he would have a fit.

I must not be a know-it-all.

You knocked back the potion quickly, shaking your head vigorously as it burned through you.

“I swear muggle alcohol has nothing on that crap,” You muttered.

“Hey, don’t complain. I just magically cured you of all your ails.”

You snorted lightly, grinning up at him. It was true though. Your stuffed nose and wheezing breaths were gone, replaced by perfect health, more or less.

“My hero,” you said.

“My angel.”

You blushed, shaking your head at him. Always so dramatic, the Weasley twins. Speaking of drama, some seemed to have found its way to you now.

Neville Longbottom ricocheted down the stairs, his face white with terror, as blank as a muggle who’d seen a ghost. If it were any other student, you might have been terrified, but Neville was somewhat more prone to bouts of fright. You stood calmly, smoothing out your robes and reaching casually for your wand.

“You alright there Neville?”

“B-b-boggart,” the boy stuttered.

“Don’t you worry Neville, Y/N will get it sorted. Never seen anyone cast a better riddikulus charm, myself,” Fred said.

“You give me too much credit, Fred.” You were already heading up the steps of the boy’s dormitory though, confident in your ability.

You could hear George speculating on how it must have gone missing from some closet in the deeper reaches of the castle. There were so many nooks and crannies in Hogwarts that there was always at least one boggart somewhere, even if you never saw it. Wand at the ready, you opened the door to Neville’s dorm, knowing exactly what to expect. Except you didn’t find what you expected.

You pulled in a deep breath, legs shaking as you stared at what was before you. It was supposed to be you tied up or in a straight jacket or just generally somehow trapped, your worst fear. Or it had been your worst fear, before you went to war.

His red hair was plastered to his pale face, blank eyes staring. All the light and mischief sucked right out of them. You fell to your knees just outside of the circle of blood pooling around his body, and a choked noise came out of your throat, the only sound you could make.

One of the boys must have heard you, because you vaguely registered Neville calling up to ask if you were okay. You couldn’t answer though, transfixed by the sight before you. You knew you were supposed to riddikulus it, but you couldn’t move.

At some point, the boys must have come up the stairs, because you heard a quiet voice behind you mutter, “Bloody…”

You thought it might have been Fred, but you weren’t sure.

“Come on, angel.”

George’s soft voice filtered through the cold mist that had a grip on your mind, his hands gripping your arms, gently but firmly lifting you back up to your feet. With a flick of his wand, he cast the charm, breaking the boggart’s spell over you as his dead body turned to a comically fake version of the same picture, ketchup and all.

An arm over your shoulders, George steered you away from the dorm as you tried to process the shock of what you’d just seen.

“I never…It wasn’t…It used to be…”

“I know,” George said. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”

You shook your head. “Last spring…last spring it was just me being trapped.”

George pulled you closer into his side, and you realized that hot tears were falling out of your eyes and onto his uniform.

“A lot’s changed since last spring,” he said. “It’s alright though. I’m here. Everything is fine.”

You realized with a grateful start that George was leading you back to your own room so that you didn’t have to cry in front of everybody in the common room, shielding your body with his own. The stairs appeared to accept your unspoken desire for him to be here as permission enough as he lead you up them without a hitch.

“It won’t stay fine though,” you managed to work out.

“I’ll still be here then,” he said.

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can. No matter what angel, I can guarantee you one thing. You and I, we’re going to stick together.” He opened the door to your dorm room, blissfully empty as most of Gryffindor tower was out on the first winter weekend with clear skies you’d had in a while. “And Freddie, of course.”

“I thought that was a given,” you joked.

“There she is,” George said, watching you smile a little as you took a seat on your bed.

“It’s just been a little…harder lately.” You defended your tears. “With everything we know and what the ministry’s doing and the Order and Umbridge’s de-”

You cut yourself off, quickly revising your choice of words. “Umbridge’s devastating ability to make me want to kill her.”

George laughed. “Don’t let her hear you say that. She’d probably call it high treason against the ministry or something. Say you were in cahoots with You Know Who.”

“Ugh. You Know Boo is more like it. Never met a bigger buzzkill than the Dark Lord.”

“Technically we’ve both had the good fortune not to meet him yet.” George leaned against one of the posters of your bed.

“We will eventually. Then I can tell everybody whether or not Harry was making it all up.”

George stiffened. “You think he’s lying?”

“Yeah, kinda. I mean, a guy with no nose? He had to have made that part up. There’s no way the big baddie doesn’t have a nose. Harry’s just yanking our chain.”

He burst out laughing, sparks flying from his chocolate eyes.

“It would be a good laugh too, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, the best. Positively historic.”

“Oi, Georgie!” Fred’s voice bellowed up from the common room. “What are you two doing up there? Don’t make me call Minnie!”

You heard a chorus of laughter from the common room and groaned.

“Could you please ask him to stop convincing the school we’re dating?”

“I’ve asked, but you know Fred. He can be…”

“Stubborn?”

“An independent thinker.”

You huffed another laugh. “Okay, well you better get down there before he gets everybody to start independently thinking some very inappropriate things about us. I have a reputation to keep, you know.”

“Reputation as a stick in the mud, when we’re not around.”

“You love it. I’ll see you at dinner?”

“See you at dinner.”

You watched his scarlet head of hair disappear down the hall, moving like wildfire with each step, and grinned to yourself. You supposed if they were going to spread wildfire rumors about anyone, it would be George Weasley.

#harry potter #george weasley #fred weasley #george weasley fic #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley series #harry potter fic #harry potter series

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missfay49 · 4 years

Note

So... Thoughts on the new episode? :)

Nonnie, I could write an essay on this episode. And i just might.

There I was, just “supes caszhj” as Griffin McElroy would say, watching Patton sincerely trying to be less strict, pleasantly surprised that everyone was not at each other’s throats...

C!Thomas busting in all hotheaded was a bit of a misdirect, but it let us know he was actually really upset about it, so the rest of the characters could be more measured.

Then Logan pops in, trying to be “less distracting” and failing completely because, honestly, were any of us anywhere able to read any of those speech bubbles without pausing? Roman knew it, he couldn’t even keep up while narrating. It was extremely distracting!

I was not quite getting the theme yet, but I could see that they kept dead-ending at each example. It was like (and turned out to be) Patton wasn’t addressing the problems that were being presented. I actually got pretty frustrated, because it felt like they were stuck in a loop (you can say that again).

He kept pushing the complicated problems aside for more clear cut problems, and trying to extrapolate from there. But it never worked, the answer was never satisfying. Because some problems just can’t be simplified.

The Trolley Problem was really the sign, for me, that things were getting out of control. The most accepted answer (I think) is that you should pull the lever, because 5 lives are more important than 1 life, and choosing to not act is still a choice. They never even got to that conclusion. And that’s because solving the Trolley Problem didn’t actually matter. What mattered was seeing the extremes to which Patton would go to put others first, because he couldn’t let go of his black and white view of the world. His views literally (in game) knock C!Thomas out. His views were symbolically self-defeating.

And I, a fool, foolishly thought it was wild enough when LilyPadton’s video game attack K.O.’d video game C!Thomas. But Then! THEN! Deceit puts all his cards on the table. In a throwback to the courtroom scene, he raises his right (human) hand and speaks the truth. His name.

(Yes I thought there was something written on his hand and yes I thought he said Janice, I am only human, so sushi.)

If you recall, Janus never really swore to tell the truth back then. He says “I know I do,” but he himself had not put a hand on a book to swear by. (Fun side note: neither does Virgil. He never touches the book offered and just says “whatever.”) So, symbolically, this moment is the first time we see him make a conscious effort to be honest.

I. Died.

Or at least I would have, if Roman had not immediately pushed the scene forward again. (seriously, could someone make a video edit where, instead of being mocked, there’s just silence, and pictures of random movie scenes where ppl are smiling and saluting?) And while the words that followed were unanimously heartbreaking, the timing of their responses was more important to the video.

The constant pushing, rushing, struggling that all the characters were going through was so true to form for emotional turmoil. You’re trying so hard to figure it out, but each possible solution comes up short and you just keep leaping to the next option, looking for the answers. All these thoughts keep popping in unannounced (Logan), and your mind is a mess.

That’s not necessarily a bad approach, because without going through so many examples, they may never have reached their realization. The reason why nothing was working: It was because they were trying to fit complicated problems into simple boxes. But you have to stop and step back eventually. It took the shock of Roman and Janus’ exchange to make everyone realize how far off track they’d gotten, and really take a look at the whole approach instead of just the individual problems.

Patton did suddenly side with Janus, but it wasn’t out of nowhere. Patton has known for weeks that he’s missing the mark. Months, if you count his smaller interactions with Virgil. Upon Janus appearing in the Megaman sequence, he continued his normal behavior of arguing against whatever Janus stated, up until he saw he had hurt C!Thomas himself.

This is the climax of the show. Not anyone’s individual arc, but the entire series. C!Thomas’ moral backbone, a thing which is arguably our first and most strongly instilled cultural support, was shaken. Patton could not waste time. He saw he had hurt C!Thomas so he immediately changed. He saw in that moment that Janus was protecting C!Thomas, and changed how he spoke to Janus.

As shown clearly in SVS, Patton will do just about anything to get his way, including bribary. He is not lawful in his approach to morality. He is an “ends justify the means” type of person, just like Janus. The difference was just in what ends they want to accomplish. But, seeing the video game results of his means, he realizes that the ending wasn’t going to be a good one if he kept going that route. He has now decided that in order to “win” the game, his means must change, and he aligns himself with Janus because Janus was visibly in the position of C!Thomas winning.

In conclusion!

We have the Stated Theme: It is not wrong to prioritize your mental health, even when it means putting yourself before others.

But we also have the Unstated Theme: Trying and Failing and Why that’s Okay

Every. Single. Side. In. This. Episode. Fails.

Logan fails to be either convincing, inconspicuous, or detached. His arguments sway no one, he’s very noticeable, and he gets upset at the end.

Patton fails to be more flexible. His strict viewpoint gives him an actual breakdown.

Roman fails to be the ‘hero’. Although the rest might still happily give him that title, his actions did not match up to the role. He mocks a part of C!Thomas in a moment of vulnerability, and believes they would openly, knowingly lie to him. He does not act with faith in himself or others.

And Janus. That sweet baby. He fails to tell the truth. And it’s not because he wasn’t telling the truth in this episode. I firmly believe his nod was meant to encourage Roman and indicate that C!Thomas meant what he said. But Janus failed to take into account the effects of his past actions. They are suffering now for his past mistakes and, careful planner though he is, he didn’t see that coming. You can’t just Start being honest one day and expect everyone to go along.

But it’s okay.

It’s okay because a person cannot undergo drastic, necessary change without first falling apart. And please understand that this is all in a metaphorical sense. A person doesn’t need to have an actual mental breakdown to change, but the structure, that is, the strict mental guidelines that we have erected for ourselves and are desparately clinging to cannot stay standing if change is to take place.

Patton, Roman, and C!Thomas experience a complete change in their worldview in this episode. They each react to that change in their own way:

Roman is angry. He’s mad at the time spent trying to follow a path that was eventually determined to be wrong. He doesn’t yet see the value in the time spent. He’s a man of action, after all. He’s focused on the past.

Patton is sad. He already misses the times when things were simpler. He’s nostalgic for the past even as he tries to make things right, right now. He’s focused on the present.

And C!Thomas? He is all of us after the dust settles. Tired, yet hopeful. Resigned to face another day, another sunrise, after a much deserved break.

He’s focused on the future.

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thefearofcod · 4 years

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(Cataractae anon!) That balancing act you mentioned is one of the things that really struck me in the xue yang story! like I said this in one of my comments but you really showed the link between intimacy and violence incredibly incredibly well? and one thing I liked about how you did that, is that a lot of people try to link them by trying specifically to make the violence itself /beautiful/, but your story bounced us back and forth (this might be long i'm just writing my thoughts now)

between things we see as affectionate and nice and intimate (i.e. tangling their fingers together) and xy’s violent desire that links to them (i.e. breaking his fingers), so that the things we might see beauty in are parallel to the violence rather that being the violence. He doesn’t want to be violent because it’s beautiful, he wants to be violent because he wants to be violent. He wants to have an impact, make a mark, maybe even have some fun, but the intimacy of it all isn’t based in (2)

beauty, it’s based in the fact that he is purposefully /doing a thing/ to another person. (I swear that fingers line is like my favorite thing ever I /may/ have gasped aloud when I read it and I could almost write an essay about just that line it’s so perfect) part of this is personal too I think, I personally will never find be able to find death and pain beautiful, no matter what Hannibal the cannibal says, but I do see how they can be hugely intimate. And I just love the way you mirrored (3)

action with desire to show that in xue yangs head. He wants to be the most important figure in xxc’s life, he wants to leave the deepest impact, which is literally desiring an intimate connection, it’s just that he wants to hurt him in order to do it. It also helps that we see xxc’s pov of it all too, so we already have a “positive” view of it all that cements the intimacy in our minds, so once the violence is added in we are already reading the situation as intimate. I’ve totally overused (4)

the word intimate in this and I didn’t really mean to write you an essay but anyway I think thats why I liked his section so much? Violence through xy’s eyes isn’t beautiful or ugly or anything like that, it’s just impactful, and thats the important part. (wow it took me. 5 asks to figure out my thesis. also this is feeling weird to send on anon but I'm a coward who's reaching a bit too far into her own head over this so here I am) (done!)

as always, anon: my only emotion upon receiving these was like, a gif of jgy falling down the stairs, forever.

Here is the secret about every impulse Xue Yang has toward Xiao Xingchen in Eye Contact. Here it is. Every one of those impulses is one that I had at some point toward my abusive partner. I never acted on them. Giving those impulses to someone who is, without question, a monster lets me examine them without wondering if I am a monster. It is because of this, I think, that it feels so intimate: he wants, precisely as you say, to do something irrevocable to the object of his feelings. It is because I wanted to use those impulses to get away, whereas he wants to use them to draw Xiao Xingchen in closer. I turned the situation around; how would it look to use those desires to entrap someone, rather than to drive them away? What would happen if one party was fully aware of what was happening, and the other completely ignorant?

I agree completely that Xue Yang in this does not have a drive for violence as beauty, and I am really glad that I was able to write about it without making the violence of it pretty, because it isn’t pretty. Hurting someone, knowing how to hurt them physically and emotionally, is deeply intimate. Who can kill you better than a doctor? You cannot know someone well enough to love them without knowing what you want to protect them from; one of the things I want to look at with this series is what does it mean to know someone? What are the gaps between one person’s intention and another’s understanding? What lives in those interstitial spaces?

(although also a lot of this series runs on: “what if [thing] happened? would that be fucked up or what”)

What is the difference between survival and cruelty? Like so much writing, I didn’t realize what I was talking about until I’d written it--at the beginning, I genuinely did just think Xiao Xingchen would look super cool with prosthetic eyes!

#WHOOF WOW #abuse for ts #just to be careful #turns out that i WAS writing xuexiao? to cope?? the whole time #fun behind the scenes commentary HAHA #if you DO ever wanna write that bit about the breaking fingers line please do not let me stop you #i'd love to see your thoughts on it!#Anonymous

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emitheplushy · 5 years

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Archived blog: I found Shikyou

(She’s right here roflmao)

No I haven't found the old Shikyou PV. No I haven't found out if it even exists. Yes that's Skyrim.

This isn't purely a shitpost I swear. I've been wrapping my head around something major in the Onibi story.

So somewhat recently, Yoot and Nate did a podcast together where they discussed random Masa stuff (a lot of lore). Nate (ahem, Decent Artist, sry) brought up an important lore tweet from Masa that has something to do with Shikyou's true identity. He was relying on memory and described the tweet as "something about how when we find out Shikyou's name, it would be the endgame of the Onibi series." I think he's referring to this tweet:

March 26, 2013

狐の世界では死凶天邪鬼というものがかなり鍵になっています。まぁ、神様のようなものです。首無演舞狂の出だしが全体の話の鍵になっています。

“In the world of the Kitsune, what is called Shikyou the Amanojaku is quite a key. Well, she’s like God. The beginning of Headless Dancing Frenzy is the key to the whole story.”

^^^From Shishikusa's compilation of Masa's lore-related tweets

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1MbXoVDwgX26aFMhl3TtsBhig63pZRbdwYQFIWdGTVac/edit?pli=1

I believe she was just using google translate, as that's how she made the blog summary. Pretty much the same message- however! I have a different understanding of what exactly this is saying. But we'll get to that after I tell you who I'm pretty certain Shikyou is.

Akari's grandma explains how there were all these gods and goddesses in the old ancestry of the Oborodzukas in the third act of the blog. She says that Izanagi and Izanami created the world. These original gods had three children: Amaterasu, Mikoto, and The Terrible Tsukuyomi.

If anyone wants to delve into theories about this aspect of the lore, it's time to get yourself a copy of the Kojiki. These names are Shinto gods and goddesses in real life. We can learn a lot about the happenings in the Onibiverse by theorizing which pieces of the real legends apply to the story.

And by looking up the names of these gods granny named, there is a big revelation right off the bat! Ok so Akari's grandma says that Shikyou rules the land of the dead (known as Yomi in the Shinto religion) but that she was not always a god of death. Keep this next detail in mind for later: anyone who learns Shikyou's real name is killed by her "messenger".

Look up the rocky relationship between Izanagi and his wife. What does it say?!? Oh yes, that IZANAMI CAME TO RULE THE LAND OF THE DEAD! She died giving birth to a certain fire god named Kagutsuchi, which happens to be the name of the demon that was sealed by the Kitsune clan (act 2 chapter 4). As a result, she went to the underworld (Yomi) and ate the food there, an act which bound her there forever (I have an unrelated theory about this). When Izanagi comes to rescue her (and fails), she says she'll go persuade some unnamed lord(s) of the realm to let her go. She tells him not to come see her until she returns to the land of the living. He does it anyway, and sees her hideous, decayed form. Shit goes sideways, one thing led to another, and his wife now rules the land of the dead and promises to cause a thousand deaths every year. Shikyou has that power by the way; to cause "death and misfortune" (her namesake), in order to return borrowed lives to the gods (or so she says).

There's of course a lot more to explore about how the Shinto stories relate to the Onibiverse. It's not a 1:1 copy of the religion obviously; there are going to be elements borrowed but changed perhaps drastically, many others left out. Do you know how many gods there are? How many stories about them?

Here's one other interesting connection. In the podcast on Yootna Marketing's channel they also brought up another tweet about how Shikyou is actually 8 different gods or something. This one here:

June 17, 2014

【死凶天邪鬼】

八人居る死凶の神様の中の一人、朧の化け狐。大昔唯一現世に生まれてしまった神様。恐ろしい力を持っていたがそれは本来三途の川で魂を引き抜くための力だが現世では命を奪ってしまうものだったため人々は恐れた。死凶様にも現世では人の様な名前があった。それはたしか、ツクヨミ。

“(Shikyou, the Amanojaku)

One of eight gods of Shikyou, the ‘fake obscene fox’. Only one other god like this has been born in the past. She had a terrible power, that was the power to take souls from the River Styx, but people feared her because she robbed life from the world. There was only one other person with a name like Shikyou-sama in the world. That’s certainly Tsukuyomi.”

Here's a little something to contemplate: the birth of Kagutsuchi and the ensuing death of Izanami is said to be the beginning of death in the world. His father Izanagi cuts off Kagutsuchi's head out of anger for "killing" his wife. From the spewed blood of Kagutsuchi are born...

8 gods.

And this is the exact same event that began the cycle of death in the world. Maybe "one of eight gods of Shikyou" means "one of eight gods of death and misfortune". I'm confused about this though, as it's describing Shikyou the Amanojaku in the tweet. Is an Amanojaku her chosen new form? Does this have to do with what Shikyou said to Akari, that she's "not the Shikyou you're thinking of"? Lots to wrap your head around.

You might be wondering. "How is this 'the endgame' of the Onibi series roflmfao".

I think what's meant by Masa's tweet is that this all has to do with how the story of Onibi itself actually ends. GG I'm never gonna find the willpower to write that >30 page essay on Demon's March and Beautiful Shadow. For now, just look at this from act 2 chapter 4:

I came to the fox’s altar.

[...]

I touched a demon’s skin for the first time. It’s hard, and tinged with heat.

She said that everything on the way home from hell is different.

I saw Shikyou’s gates.

[...]

Through the fox’s wedding, I devote myself to the altar and stand before the gate for the first time.

I saw the gatekeeper.

[...]

This is Shikyou’s gate. The demon was talking. Everyone thinks differently.

I saw Shikyou.

They asked.

I could not answer.

So I returned the remains of my borrowed life here.

Remember how Shikyou returns life to the gods? Yep she does it by killing people! She killed that poor bastard! And why did she do that?

(Act 3 chapter 2) In the beginning Shikyou was not the god of death. Those who knew her true form then were killed by her messenger.

(Act 2 chapter 5) Three, ancient, the name of the evil spirit will only be shown if you continue to hell.

I think he found out who she was when he reached hell. I think the endgame of the Onibi series takes place there, at Shikyou's gate.

{Edit}

I was mistaken about Shishikusas using google translate. I thought I remembered her stating that but it turns out I just assumed. She appears to know a fair bit of Japanese, so she's probably more reliable than machine translators.

(I don’t even understand what katakana is but seems legit!)

{Edit}

I was mistaken again. Knowing katakana doesn't mean you know Japanese.

{Edit}

Decent artist actually wasn't referring to that tweet. It was a dm. But it said something pretty similar.

#Shikyou #Amanojaku #Izanami #Shintoism #Kojiki #Onibi #Demon's March #Yomi

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cashtonwoah-blog · 6 years

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Better Man // Part 1

Hey guys! It's been a while since I wrote any stuff on here, so apologies! This is a new Ashton Irwin Series, enjoy!

Warnings : Swearing, light smut.

Side note--this is a very different series to what I normally write. It's a long one!

"Do you have Fanta Lemon or Orange?" I hear the old man say at the pool bar desk.

"Both! Which will it be?" I politely ask the customer. He agrees on one of each. I smile, walking over to the machine to pour a drink. I give the man his drinks, complete with ice and a lemon slice in the Fanta Lemon.

"Thanks" he says, adding a creepy wink at the end, shoving a crumpled €5 in to the tip jar on the work surface. I weakely smile, thanking him for his tip.

It's March, and it's currently 21 degrees in Santa Cruz de Tenerife, and I'm working for a 6th day in a row. Don't get me wrong, I love my job. It was only meant to be a summer job, working in a restaurant bar at a five star hotel for 3 months during my university holidays. I had it all figured out, work during the summer abroad to save money for my 2nd year at university, however life took a different path. I ended up failing my last essay, meaning that I would have to retake the whole year, so I decided to drop out of university all together. My Dad ended up marrying this blonde women I'd met appropriately 5 times in 6 months, so I decided to move out. In the end, staying in Santa Cruz de Tenerife was a better plan, no family, no university, just my friends out here and work, and that's all that mattered.

"Y/N, go have your break" I hear my boss, Andre shout from the store cupboard. I take my apron off, grab a glass of water and head to the break room. I open the door to find my best mates, Camila and Ed, already sat in there, probably gossiping about someone.

"Y/N! Come join us, we're bitching about Margot again" Ed laughed, pushing a chair towards me.

"Let me guess, she left the cups in the dryer again?!" I sighed.

Ed and Camila hated the new girl, Margot, who had just started working shifts on the bar. It would be unfair to say she was bad at her job, she is awful. From spilling drinks to over customers to making basically poisonous drinks, she couldn't get the hang of it.

"She left me to do all the washing up again today, it's pissing me off" Camila moaned.

I rolled my eyes.

"Maybe mention it to Andre, maybe she needs more training".

Camila laughed.

"Nope, she needs to leave. She isn't cut out for this job" she replies, high fiving Ed. I rolled my eyes again.

"Anyway, what's up with you? Any new guys on the scene?" Ed winked at me, resting his hands on his face, like he was waiting for some big story.

"Oh please, next question" I scoffed, taking a mouthful of drink to clear my dry throat. Since moving to Santa Cruz de Tenerife permanently, I'd become best friends with Ed and Camila through work. We were a smiliar age, but very different people. Camila had been seeing a guy, Pete, for 8 months when I first met her, and Ed was in an on-off thing with the lifeguard at the pool, Mateo. Where as me, I'd been single for a good 2 years. My last relationship was with a guy back in England, which didn't end so nicely. I decided that my move to Santa Cruz de Tenerife would maybe bring some new love into my life, and a year later after moving here, I was still single.

"Well what about Matias?" Camila sighed.

"Not my type, too chatty" I laughed.

"Ben?"

"Not funny enough"

"Mateo is nice" Ed laughed.

"Yeah, before I realised he only went out with me because he fancied you!" I laughed.

"Seriously though Y/N, where are you gonna find someone and stop being so fussy?" Camila asked.

"When the time is right Cami, just not now I guess!" I jokingly snapped at her. I loved my friends, but do wish that they'd get off my case about finding someone. I wasn't really in the mood for dating at the moment.

"Anyway... Moving on... What you got planned for this weekend?" I asked my friends.

"Well, there's fuck all to do here, so we could head into town, have a night out?" Ed suggested.

"Sounds good, and, maybe I could ask Pete to bring a mate..." Camila winked at me. I groaned.

"I better get back to work, see you later!" I got up and walked away before she could finish what she was going to say.

"Okay girl, think about it!" she laughs, seeing how annoyed I was getting. Ed nudges her playfully.

****

It's 12am, and my shift is coming to an end. I close up the outdoor bar, pack away the glasses that Margot didn't do from earlier. I hang my apron up, and head to the main reception desk of the hotel to sign out. I see a few regular hotel guests and say goodnight to them. Just as I get the staff sign out book, I hear a slam of a door behind me. It startles me so much that I drop the book onto the floor. I groan, bending down to pick the book up. As I go to pick it up, a set of hands also reaches for the book and helps me to pick it up. I look up, and see a man with messy curly hair, wearing a polka dot shirt and skinny black jeans. He gives me a warm smile, as he gives the book back to me.

"Gracias" I thank the boy in Spanish.

"No worries" he chuckles in English, with an Aussie twang. He warmly smiles, before reaching to his Jean back pocket, getting his mobile phone out to answer a call.

"Sorry" is all the boy says, before walking off.

I stand there, all confused for a second, before then realising that I need to sign out of work. I sign my name, and head for the exit of the hotel.

My drive home is a quiet one, thinking about the curly haired boy in the reception area. Yeah he was cute, and smartly dressed. I chuckled to myself, hoping to see him the next day around the hotel.

***

"Two beers coming up" I smile at the young couple on their holiday. Its a busy down round the pool today, lots of new arrivals, after all it is the school holidays. I place the young couple their drinks on their table before heading back to the bar to clean some drinks. The curly haired boy has been on my mind all morning. Yes it was a brief encounter. Yes I thought he was cute. And yes, I wanted to see him again.

"Y/N, can you go to reception? There's an early check in" Andre asks.

I head to reception, and I'm greeted by a young women with black hair, and a tall blonde haired boy. They look very young, but cute together. As I approach them, I greet them.

"Welcome to the Hotel La Flora, my name is Y/N" I smile. I see Ed across the counter, checking the young couple in.

"Thanks Y/N, I'm Sierra and this is my boyfriend Luke". She smiled, her boyfriend Luke offering a hand for me to shake. Polite, I thought. Once they're all checked in, I carry their bags to the room on the top floor, our penthouse deluxe room. Normally only wealthy businessmen or celebrities hire this room. I open the door, set the cases on the beds and open the French doors to show the young couple the huge balcony. The view fell the balcony is beautiful.

"You've got a beautiful view here, perfect view of the beach" I smile, handing them their keys.

"Would you like any help unpacking?" I ask.

"No thank you Y/N, thanks again" the boyfriend Luke smiles, handing me a €20 tip. I widely smile at this very generous tip, making note of the generous offer.

"Thank you that's very kind". I smile, placing the money into my pocket. I walk around the rest of the apartment, opening the other doors to show the couple around, including the 2nd bedroom.

"Ah, Ashton and Kay will be just fine here I hope" I hear the girlfriend, Sierra say to her boyfriend.

"Yeah, I'm not sure about Kay though" Luke mutters. I hear a deep sigh from the girl.

"I'll leave you guys to it, I hope you enjoy your stay. " I smile, thanking them again for the tip, before shutting the door to give them time to unpack. I run down to reception, to gloat at Ed for the huge tip.

"Comeon that's not fair, I checked them in!" he moans, trying to take the money off me.

"Well maybe next time you carry your own bags!" I scoff at him, playfully sticking my tongue out at him, before skipping back off to the bar.

****

It's 3pm, and things have gotten a lot quieter around the pool bar. People are starting to head inside for evening plans. I grab a book, The Fault in Our Stars by John Green, and read a few pages, before spotting a girl heading towards the bar. I set my book down, and greet the girl with a warm smile.

"Hello what can I get you today?"

"Tap water, make sure it's cold" she snaps, not even looking at me. I pore the girl a tap water, noting her tone. Rude, I thought.

"Thanks, sorry if I snapped at you, just been one of those day, you know" she sighs, looking at her phone still.

"I get it, it's OK" I say, not wanting to be nosy and ask what's happened. Before I can say anything else, she calls someone.

"I'm here, where are you?" she snaps to the person on her phone, before walking towards the door to the entrance of the bar. As she walks towards the door, a familiar face walks in, wearing a red t-shirt with skinny Jean shorts and Ray Ban sunglasses. I sigh, it's the curly haired boy from last night with the sign out book.

"Kay, you're early" he says, hugging the girl.

"Well I wanted to see you, is that so much of a problem?" she snaps.

"Not here, please" he requests, looking at me, before looking at the floor. He gently grabs her arms and they walk off. Dramatic, I thought. I continue to read my book.

Some people don't understand the promises they're making when they make them," I said.

"Right, of course. But you keep the promise anyway".

That's what love is. Love is keeping the promise anyway."

I deeply sighed at the quote in the book, before taking a sip of my ice tea.

"Are you Okay?" I hear a voice say. The voice startles me, as I spit out my drink over the counter. I can feel my face going bright red from sheer embarrassment.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry Sir" I say, running around to the back to get a cloth and wipe up the mess. I come back and see the curly haired boy looking at me and laughing.

"It's okay, I shouldn't have disturbed you during your book reading" he laughs, looking at my book. I continue to politely ignore him, clearing up my mess. I noted that my book was now covered in ice tea.

"Damn, guess I'll be needing a new book" I laugh, looking at the boy.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry Sir, it was very unprofessional of me to-" I apologise.

"No need... Um.... Y/N" he interrupts, looking closely at my name badge.

"Thank you." I awkwardly chuckle. There's a pause before either of us say anything.

"So.. Can I get you anything sir?" I ask, resuming my duty.

"Gin and tonic please" he responds. I head to the bar, and pour the man a drink. As I head back to the bar I note that he's taken a seat in front of my work station. Odd, I thought.

"There you go" I politely say, placing the drink in front of the boy. He smiled, taking a huge gulp of the drink. He sits there in silence, so I decide to make light conversation while cleaning a few glasses.

"So, everything okay?" I ask. For a few seconds he doesn't respond, he just stares into his glass.

"Yeah, just one of those days, y'know?" he says, scoffing under his breath, before finishing the rest of his drink. He lightly taps the top of the glass, indicating that he would like another, I head to the liquor counter and make him another one.

"I get what you mean, do you wanna talk about it? You wouldn't believe the stories I've heard working here" I softly reply.

"Maybe after a few of these ill open up" he cutely laughs. I hand him his second drink, to which he finishes all in one.

"Woah okay, take it easy yeah?" I say, slightly concerned.

"Nah its okay, I'm good with my drink. I remember having a drinking contest with Mike and Calum in LA after a gig... Good times." he reasurres me, asking for another drink. I make him another one, but deliberately put less alcohol in it, just in case.

"Oh so you're in a band?" I ask.

"Yeah, been together for quite a few years. Been touring for a few months so it's nice to have a break... Or so I thought" he mutters the last part.

"That's cool. What sort of music do you play?" I ask, continuing to clean glasses.

The boy pauses, looks confused into my eyes. I can't tell if he's mad at my comment or going to pass out.

"Oh, so you don't know who I am?" he asks confused.

I pause for a second. Shit, I've offended him.

"I'm sorry, just that music out here is a mixture and-" I panic.

"Hey no its okay! To be honest it's quite nice to not be well known" he smiles at me, taking a sip of his drink.

****

3 hours later, and the boy is still sat in front of me, drinking his millionth G&T, and I've joined him, having one or two won't hurt at work. He tells me his life story, the more drunk he gets. Turns out him and his band are quite well known globally. He tells me the awards they've won over the years, and tour stories. He tells me about the time one of the Jenner-Kardashian crew didn't get their band name right at an awards ceremony. He seems incredibly proud when talking about his band mates, who are also his best friends.

"So you've never really heard of us? " he slurrs a little.

I giggle. "I don't think so. Hum me one of your songs" I reply.

All of a sudden, he gets up on the bar stool and starts singing.

"Sometimes I’m feeling like I’m going insane

My neighbor told me that I got bad brains"

He is screaming at the top of his voice, standing on a bar stool in an empty bar. I'm crying with laughing at this, amazed at how he hasn't fallen off the bar stool. He says two lines of a song, that freezes, and hums.

"I-I can't remember how the rest goes" he laughs, climbing off the stool.

"That's okay" I laugh, wiping tears from my eyes.

"Did you enjoy that?" he laugh, shooting me a playful wink.

"I did actually, I'll keep an eye out for it in the charts" I laugh back. Suddenly his phone rings in his pocket. He groans, answering the call.

"Luke! Yeah I'm good, just in the bar. Yeah ill be up in a minute." he states bluntly, before hanging up. He stares at his phone, looking somewhat sad.

"Everything okay rockstar?" I chuckle.

He awkwardly chuckles back. "Yeah I guess just women stuff".

"Wanna talk about it? Funnily enough I'm quite knowledgeable in that area" I smile.

"Just my girlfri-ex girlfriend." he scoffs.

"Oh, wanna talk about it still?".

"She's here, on holiday wit-with me and my best mate and his girlfriend and I honestly don't know what. We're done, like done-done months ago, y'know?" he slightly slurrs.

"Yeah I get you" I sigh, remembering not so long ago I went through the same thing back in England.

"Why is sh-she here? She said she wanted to be mates and I agreed, but then she wants to acted all like a couple in public, but hates me when it's just me and her" he says. Im sympathetic towards this guy.

"Maybe talk to her while you're here, a little bit of sun and a different sight might work things out" I suggest, trying to cheer him up.

"Yeah, you're right. We're definitely done, I just want her to leave me alone basically" he scoffs.

"Sounds awful, but I don't want a relationship right now you know? I just wanna explore the world with my band, but also have something on the side, y'know?" he says. I stare at the harshness in his voice, yet I understand what he means.

I sigh. "um, yeah, I know exactly what you mean".

Just as the boy starts to speak again, the blonde hair boy from earlier walks in. He kicks his heals on the wooden floor, like in an inpatient manner.

"Ash, are you okay?" he asks.

The curly haired boy sighs. "Yeah I'm alright man, just needed a break. I just want her to go".

"Well Sierra is talking to her now, I think she's gonna head off so you can have a break" Luke replies. Luke notes my presence.

"Sorry, he hasn't been a pain has he?" Luke sarcastically asked.

I laugh. "I can reassure you sir I've had much worse."

The curly haired boy stands up from his bar stool slowly, trying to not stumble.

"Comeon, let's go have a nap" Luke says, putting his arm and shoulder under the curly haired boys armpit to support him.

"Do you need any help?" I ask.

"It's okay, he just needs a nap" Luke laughs.

"Thanks Y/N, see ya around!" the curly haired boy laughs. Luke walks off basically carrying the curly haired boy back to his room.

"She's kinda cute, right?" I hear Ashton attempting to whisper to his friend. I quietly giggle at this.

"Shh drunk boy" Luke laughs, helping his mate. They both leave the bar together, leaving just myself around an empty desolate bar, surrounding with 7 empty G&T glasses. I laugh to myself, thinking about the last 4 hours of chat we've had, hoping to have more with the curly haired boy sometime soon.

****

Part 2//

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