#if I get enough hype (enough being like one person) I’ll start a third fic

[theratisbackanditsinyourkitchen]

What’s y’all’s opinion on a mafia au? Enemies to lovers? Detective angel x David? Angst? It gives the vibes of the song teeth? Also smut? How we feeling it?

[graceful-starker]

Jailbroken Hearts Finale

Summary: some bits and pieces into Peter’s last eleven months in prison, and then a sort of epilogue.

Warnings: mentions of past abuse, rape, death, and murder. Also actual murder and death, blood, very mild because in Tony’s mind death is kinda boring at this point.

Notes: So all of the other parts were on my Tumblr that got deleted so I don’t have the link to them but here is ao3! This is one of those fics where the story was so hyped and so well received that I was scared of making the ending for fear of it being disappointing. But here it is!

As always, this can either be read as irondad/spiderson, or non-sexual starker. Completely up to you.

~~~

Peter feels a lot closer to Tony, after that night. The vulnerability and honesty is something he knows no one else has ever seen, not even Rhodey.

It’s a few weeks later, and the gang is hanging out at the usual table for breakfast. Clint yawns and takes a sip of his coffee, rubbing his eyes. “Who the hell was making all that noise last night?”

Steve smirks and laughs softly. “Guy named Quill, he got into it with a guard yesterday. Earned himself a beat down.”

Clint huffs in annoyance. “He needs to learn how to bite his tongue, or next time it’ll be two best downs.”

“New shipment in today,” Tony says, not listening to the gang. “I’ll bet everything I own Bucky is in this one.”

Steve perks up at that, starting to bounce his leg. “You really think so?”

Rhodey nods, taking a bite of his breakfast. “Yeah, he was sent to jail after the trial a week ago. Should be in this shipment.”

Steve looks like he’s on cloud nine, and Peter feels sort of floaty. This is his first time meeting new people as someone who’s been here a while. “I can’t wait to see him. You aren’t getting any sleep tonight either, Clint.”

Clint groans in annoyance, sipping more coffee. “You suck.”

“Yeah I do,” Steve teases with a wink, which makes Clint pretend to gag.

Rhodey looks up from his own breakfast, seeing people starting to file out early. “Show time.”

Tony closes his paper, looking around as well. “Alright. Clint, go scout. Come on Peter, let’s get you a good spot to look.”

Peter nods and stands up, stretching a bit. “Will Cap be with us?”

“Yep,” Steve says, following. Rhodey is taking over my usually position so I can watch him come in. Let’s go.”

They make their way to the best viewing spot, listening to people talk, speculate, and make bets. It takes a while for the new inmates to come, but the doors finally open the shouting starts.

Peter hides in Tony’s arms, feeling nervous with all the screaming and stomping. Tony merely shushes him, holding him close and glaring at the closest inmates.

Finally they start walking through, and Steve starts to yell once the third person comes through. “Bucky!” he yells, waving his arms.

Bucky looks up, searching the crowd until he finds Steve. A smirk graces his face, and he blows Steve a kiss.

Tony watches them file in, face expressionless. Peter goes back and forth between watching Tony’s face and the new inmates filing in.

Suddenly a man taps on Tony’s shoulder, and Peter feels his heart rate pick up. Tony turns to him, raising a brow.

“Mr. Stark,” the inmate asks, nodding politely. “That new one down there, the one with red hair and a long beard?” Tony narrows his eyes, but nods slowly. “I have a request.”

Tony huffs. “Get on with it.”

The man nods again, shifting his weight. “I know that rapists are usually your thing, but he...that man raped my daughter. I’m in here because I tried to kill him out there. He’s been in the hospital since I tried it, but obviously he’s good enough to get in here. My request is that I can finish the job myself.”

Tony looks down at the man, watching him. “You can have one chance. If he’s alive tomorrow still, I won’t give you a second try. Understood?”

The inmate nods, thanking Tony and stalking out of the entry hall.

“That was nice of you,” Peter manages to quake out. Talking about pre-planned murder still scares him.

Tony hums, pulling Peter closer to him and watching the inmates file in. “I know. You’ve made me soft,” he accuses in a whisper.

Peter giggles, starting to relax a bit. The new inmates are marched off to closed off rooms, where they will spend the rest of the day getting cleaned, getting new clothes, and being walked through the rules of the prison.

“Come on,” Steve says to them, nodding his head in the other direction. “Let’s go kill time while we wait.

After killing the entire day doing mostly nothing, they’re finally forced back into their cells for the night. Steve and Bucky share a cell, and they do, in fact, keep the entire prison up all night with their reunion.

They were so loud, that the guards didn’t notice the screams of pain and fear coming from the red-haired new inmate’s cell.

~

Peter bounces excitedly next to Tony, ignoring the looks he gets from Bucky. Bucky is nice and all, but he has very little patience.

“Okay kid, what the hell is wrong with you?” Bucky finally asks.

Tony glares at Bucky, and Steve elbows his lover. “Never do that again,” Steve hisses under his breath.

Peter doesn’t let it bother him though. “It’s visitation day,” he says happily. “And Tony agreed to meet May with me today.”

Rhodey groans in annoyance. “I can’t convince you to meet Pepper in years, but two months with Peter and you cave to meet his aunt?”

Tony glares at Rhodey over Peter’s head. “His aunt doesn’t want to bring my family up to me, or give me anything.”

Rhodey tsks and rolls his eyes. “She gives you things anyway, you know.”

“I’ll never see it, doesn’t matter.” Tony shrugs again.

“My kids are coming,” Clint says to change the subject. “Finally.”

Bucky hums and gives Steve a look. “You don’t have any visitors this month.”

“I have a visitor that never leaves,” Steve corrects, kissing Bucky softly on the lips.

“Let’s go ladies,” the guard calls. “Cells or visiting area, you know the drill.”

Peter beams and grabs Tony’s hand, rushing them to the visiting areas. Tony doesn’t usually walk that fast, but he only grumbles his complaints instead of stopping Peter.

“Parker,” a guard calls. “Visitor.”

Peter happily goes to the assigned room, and squeals when he sees May. “May!” he calls, sitting and pulling the phone to his face.

“Hi...who’s that?” May asks, pointing to Tony. Tony waves at her, and Peter moves the phone so they can both hear.

“This is Tony Stark,” Peter says, leaning into the older man. “He’s my cellmate. He takes care of me and stuff.”

“I just-” Tony looks down at the phone. He’s never used one of these before. “I just make sure other inmates don’t give him sh-any problems.”

May narrows her eyes at him, pursing his lips. “Ahuh. Peter listen, I’m working on saving up extra money-”

“No, May. It’s isn’t worth it. I can’t go to college anymore.”

“You will go to college!” May yells, getting emotional. “You’re too smart not to.”

Tony lights up at this. “You can’t afford college?” he asks. “I have money.”

May narrows her eyes at him. “I don’t want illegal money.”

“It’s legal,” Tony says, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “Inheritance. Plus, my parents’ company is in my name, even if I can’t run it. You ever heard of Stark Industries?”

May suddenly pales, putting her hand on the glass. “You’re the Tony Stark that brutally murdered his father.”

“That isn’t the whole story, May. You only know what the media says-”

“I saw the video!” She yells, looking over her shoulder. “You-”

“May!” Peter yells, upset. “He’s not a cold-blooded murderer. Am I a murderer?”

May scoffs and shakes her head. “That was different.”

“It’s not.” Peter says. “It isn’t different. You have to trust me on this. I trust Tony, and you trust me. Right?” May is still for a long time, but the guard reminds her she doesn’t have much longer, and she finally nods. “Then trust him.”

May purses her lips. “Why would you give me money?” she asks Tony.

“I don’t have any use for it, and I like your nephew.” Tony shrugs, looking at Peter. “I’ll gladly give it all to you, honestly. I’m not planning on leaving here, and it’s better with you than rotting in a useless bank account.”

May looks on the verge of tears. “How can you trust him?”

Peter smiles at Tony leaning into him a bit more before looking back at May. “It’s not my place to tell you. But I do.”

May stands, still holding the phone. “I’ll be back next month. I want a better explanation than this time. I love you Peter, I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you too, May.”

~

Peter jumps as Bucky slams his fist on the table, effectively cutting off Clint’s lecture. “I god damn know how to be quiet, asshole, I was a sniper before I was an assassin. Teach me the layout of the vents and which guards take bribes, skip the basics.”

Steve chuckles softly, rubbing soothing circles into Bucky’s thigh.

Clint huffs in annoyance. “I’m not doubting your experience, I was just saying...” he rolls his eyes and starts grumbling to himself.

Tony turns the page in his paper, taking a sip of his coffee. “Learn to take orders when given by higher ups Barnes, or this won’t work out.”

Peter notices Steve stiffen, even though Bucky merely scoffs. “Bird brains here isn’t a higher up, boss. He’s the guy I’m replacing.”

“Watch your mouth before I watch it for you,” Clint grunts, hands tightening into fists. He’s still pissed at how often Bucky’s arrival keeps the whole prison up.

“Cool it, Clint,” Steve warns, straightening up and squaring his shoulders.

“You’re gonna lengthen your sentence if you fight, Mr. Clint sir,” Peter pipes up, face pink from the anxiety.

The two assassins stare each other down for a minute more, before Clint scoffs and stands up, pushing his tray towards Peter. “Here kid, I’m not hungry anymore.”

Peter watches him storm off before turning his gaze to pout at Bucky. “You know, you don’t have to mean. We’re on the same team here.”

Bucky snorts, rolling his eyes and planting a hand on the table. “We aren’t shit, pipsqueak. You can’t-” he cuts off with a hiss as a knife suddenly finds its way in between his middle and ring fingers.

“If you can’t learn your fucking place, Barnes, your place will be six feet under. Do I make myself crystal clear?” Tony’s paper rests on the table beside him, his hand gripping the handle of the knife tightly.

“He was just joking around, Tones, it’s okay. He won’t say another words about Peter. Right baby?” Steve says, one hand on Bucky’s chest to keep him back and his tone sharp.

Bucky is silent for a few seconds as he stares Tony down, jaw set angrily. Eventually, he slowly removes his hand from the table and nods once. “Right.”

Tony sniffs in indifference, hiding the knife back up his sleeve and grabbing his coffee again. “You said he wouldn’t cause problems, Cap.”

“He won’t anymore,” Steve says, a sharp edge to his voice as he side-eyes Bucky. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Good,” Tony says, opening his paper again. “Finding one replacement is hard enough, I’d hate to have to find two.”

“Understood, boss,” Steve says lowly, standing up. “Buck, a word,” he says with air of finality, walking away without waiting for his lover.

Bucky doesn't keep him waiting long, glaring daggers into Tony’s forehead before following silently.

Peter sniffles once, leaning into Tony. “I’m sorry I’m causing problems.”

Rhodey laughs softly, the first noise he’s made this entire time. “Oh kid, you aren’t causing problems. Robo-cop is.”

Tony nods in agreement, pushing Clint’s tray towards Peter. “He’s right. Eat.”

Peter sighs sadly but obeys, starting with Clint’s roll.

~

Peter beams at May through the glass, picking up the phone and waving. “Heya May! How have you been?”

May is frowning, looking at Peter with suspicion. “The day after our last visit, ten million dollars appeared in my bank account.”

Peter gasps, feeling light headed. “Oh my god, that’s more than we could ever-”

“Where the hell did he get this money from? How did he get it to if he can’t access the accounts in his name?”

Peter sighs, feeling slightly frustrated. “Pepper Potts is the CEO of SI right now, she took over a few years ago. Tony signed papers to give her access to his accounts, so she sends him money from the business because she feels like she owes him. It’s all his money, all legally obtained, and all legally given to you.”

May shakes her head in disbelief. “What did you do, Peter?! What did you do to convince him to give you this money?”

Peter smiles sadly. “You don’t want to know, May. I didn’t do anything against my morals, don’t worry.”

“You can’t sleep with a murderer, Peter,” May hisses into the phone, tears in her eyes.

“It isn’t like that,” Peter promises, sighing. “Honestly May, it isn’t. We don’t want to sleep together. I mean, we share a cell, but that’s--that’s innocent. You could be there and I wouldn’t be embarrassed, I swear.” May shakes her head, lips tightening into a grimace. “Then what did you do?”

“You don’t need to know, and you don’t want to know. I didn’t do anything bad, nothing illegal. He just likes me, May. You don’t have to worry about the money. Get us a nice house, get a new car, get other things you’ve been wanting. The money is good and you don’t need to feel bad about having it.”

May sighs in disbelief, but decides that Peter wouldn’t lie to her. “Fine. God, I can’t wait to get you out of there and give you a giant hug.”

Peter grins, leaning back into his chair. “Me too, May.”

~

Tony sighs, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. “Only six more months with you, Pete. I only have six more months. Do we really have to talk about this now?”

Peter pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m gonna visit you all the time Tony, don’t say it’s only six months.”

Tony grunts. “It’s basically six months. You’ll visit once a month for a while, and then you’ll forget all about me.”

Peter makes a wounded noise, wrapping his arms around Tony’s torso and hugging him tightly. “Don’t say that. I love you, I’m not just going to forget you.”

Tony rolls his eyes, but hugs Peter back. “You will. What use do you have for an old, lonely, felon locked away fro the rest of his life?”

Peter hugs harder, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter what use you are, first of all. Love doesn’t mean need.”

“You have your aunt May.”

“That doesn’t mean if I have her I suddenly don’t have you.” He pulls back, looking up at Tony with teary eyes. “I won’t ever forget about you. Not ever. You’re stuck with me until the end of time, okay?”

Tony grins down at Peter fondly, ruffling his hair. “Okay.” He agrees eventually.

Peter gives him a small smile in return and kisses Tony’s cheek, pulling away finally and wiping his eyes. “So...what do you think then?”

Tony sighs. “I don’t want you to appeal, if I’m being honest. Even if you plan on visiting me forever, I still don’t want you to go. I know it’s selfish, but that’s what I think.”

Peter node sadly and kisses Tony’s chin before going back to their bed. “Then I’ll tell May to be patient. End of discussion.”

“no, wait....” Tony sighs and follows the boy. “You asked what I thought about it, not what you should do. You should get out of here, go live your life. Go to college and get a house and so on.”

“I can wait,” Peter says. Then he shuts his eyes and pretends to be asleep.

Tony only sighs loudly and crawls into bed as well, kissing Peter’s hair before he settles down. “Little shit,” he accuses, which makes the ‘sleeping’ boy grin cheekily.

~

Peter hums as he looks at the houses in front of him, going back and forth between the images. “Hmmm...I like the one on the right, it’s beautiful.”

May nods, turning the picture to look at it herself. “I agree...but Peter, do we really need a house this big? It’s just the two of us, and when you move out it’ll be just me...”

Peter grins, a grin May knows very well means Peter is planning something May wouldn’t approve of. “It’s the perfect size, May. And this one is for me, I want you to have your own house.”

“Peter!” May gasps, eyes wide. “What do you mean this is just for you? Why on earth would you need a house this big by yourself?”

“And I think you should hire a maid and a chef in your house too, you know, you always do everything. You deserve to be taken care of for once.”

May shakes her head, leaning back in her chair. “How much money are you planning to give me here, kid? These types of things are expensive, and-”

“As much as you need, May. Tony is a billionaire, and he got together with Pepper last week in order to make me his official heir. All of his money is mine when I get out of here, and he’s a billionaire. We wouldn’t be able to spend all his money in a hundred lifetimes.”

“Peter...” May has tears in her eyes. “Why would he-”

“He loves me. And you love me. He wants both of us to be happy.”

May sniffles, dabbing at her eyes. “Well then...I better start researching how to be rich, I guess.”

Peter smiles, a genuine smile, one that reaches his eyes. “Tony says all his mother ever did was host charity galas and manage their public image. We don’t have a public image, so I guess you better start learning how to throw charity galas.”

May smiles sadly at him, nodding. “My first one is going to be a fundraiser for the public defenders’ office. That way no other innocent little kids get thrown in jail unjustly.”

Peter beams at her, tapping his knuckles against the counter. “Sounds great, May.”

~

Peter wakes up giggling, scrunching his nose as he feels the kisses against his eyelids. “Tones?”

Tony chuckles deeply, pulling back and letting the boy sit up. “Morning sleepy-head. How did you sleep?”

Peter yawns and stretches, looking around the cell. ‘Good. What’s going on, the lights are still out?”

Tony smiles, shifting on the bed and pulling a small box out from behind his back. “Happy birthday, kid. It’s midnight.”

Peter gasps, taking the box. “What? How did you-where did you- wait, how did you know it was my birthday?”

Tony smirks, leaning back on an elbow. “I know everything. Open it.”

Peter laughs softly at the bossy nature, opening it quickly. He gasps when he sees it, taking it out of the box and looking between the gift and Tony in surprise. “I...what...I...”

“You’re almost out of here, kid, and it got me thinking...I don’t want to only see you once a month. I...I can’t see you only once a month. So I talked to Pepper, had her design team create something for me. So this is a prototype.”

Peter feels tears in his eyes, looking up at Tony’s face. “So this...this will...what does it do?”

“Once it’s working correctly, yes. You put it on the floor, turn it on, and wait. Once it’s on, it’ll start to vibrate the other one, so we’ll know the other wants to talk. Then once they’re both on, we’ll see each other very clearly.” Tony smiles and takes Peter’s hand. “It isn’t perfect or anything, but hopefully it’ll let me see you more than once a month. Maybe even once a day.”

Peter hurls himself into Tony’s lap, hugging him tightly and crying into his shoulder. Tony wraps his arms around Peter, hiding his face in Peter’s hair. “Oh, Tony! Thank you, thank you!”

Tony smiles into Peter’s hair sadly, kissing where he can. “Of course, kiddo. Anything for you.”

~

Rhodey sighs, slamming his cards on the table. “I liked Clint way better than you, soldier, he sucked at poker.”

Bucky grins, pulling his winnings closer to him. “My secret is I always look like I want to murder you. You can’t tell what’s in my hand anymore than you could against a computer.”

Steve chuckles, grabbing the cards and starting to shuffle them. “Clint had no poker face, I don’t know how he works with Nat without annoying her to death.”

Peter giggles at the image of Natasha and Clint on a mission, with Natasha being stone faced and cool while Clint is annoying her with faces of concentration and effort.

“Stop talking about me like I’m gone,” Clint sighs in annoyance. “I still have a minimum of nine months in here.”

“Did you hear that? I swear, I just heard Barton’s voice,” Steve chimes in, starting to deal for the next round.

Peter giggles again, leaning into Tony and grabbing his cards. “You think you’ll make it to the graduation?”

“Oh yeah,” Clint says, smiling as he rearranges his cards. He ignores as Rhodey groans loudly and folds his cards before they start even playing because of his obvious smugness. “I bribed the warden to give me a recommendation for parole, I’m not spending another two years in here.”

Peter turns to look at Tony, eyes sparkling. The older man doesn’t know what the look is for, and at this point, he knows better than to ask.

~

Peter sits down happily and starts to bounce his leg, grinning at his stablemates. “Morning!”

“Ah,” Clint grunts, rubbing his head. “Shhh, it’s too early.”

Steve laughs softly. “You’re just pissed several inmates got lucky last night.”

“I’m pissed because everyone decided sleep isn’t important anymore.”

Tony takes that moment to sit next to Peter, putting one tray of food in front of himself and one in front of Peter. “Well stop being pissed, today is not your day to be pissed.”

Clint makes a confused sound, before he suddenly straightens up and smiles at Peter. “Hey, today is the day you’re free! Shit, I can’t believe it’s been a whole year since you got here.”

Tony grunts, aggressively opening his paper.

Peter ignores him, nodding at Clint. “They’re taking me out front at noon, May is picking me up. I get to go home!”

Rhodey pats Peter on the shoulder in a friendly manner. “Congrats man, make sure you come back to visit us.”

“Every month,” Peter promises, surprising the group. They thought Peter would want to forget about his time in prison as soon as possible. “C’mon, I wanna play one more game of go-fish before I have to go.”

“I’m really gonna miss you, kid,” Steve says, a sad smile on his face. “I don’t think anyone else in the world could have convinced a bunch of murderers to play go-fish over poker.”

Bucky hums, pulling out his cards. “You made me like you in less than six months, that’s a record for me for sure.”

Rhodey nods, taking the cards and starting to deal. “Yeah kid, we’ll all miss you.”

Peter blushes a bit but he can’t stop smiling. He’s finally going to get to hug Aunt May again!

~~~

Peter runs to the phone as soon as they let him, picking it up with a big smile. “Tony!”

Tony chuckles, the same sad glint in his eyes he always has. It’s been a year since Peter was released, and a lot has happened since then. Clint was released and he’s back at it with Natasha and his family. Rhodey gave pepper a design that was so successful she's only allowed to sell it to the United States military. Steve and Bucky have gotten along perfectly, making the prison business they have going even more successful. Peter has started college, Ivy League, majoring in robotics engineering.

According to Tony, not much has happened with him. But, according to Peter, this year has been very eventful for Tony.

Without telling Tony, Peter has been working very hard to get Tony out. He wasn’t able to completely free Tony, of course, but with the money he got from Tony has come in very handy. He blew through an entire half a billion dollars, but he eventually got something close to what he wanted.

“Peter? You okay there?”

Peter nods quickly, literally bouncing in excitement. “I have the best news ever, Tony.”

The older man grins, but he still has that sad look in his eyes. “I told you kid, getting an A is not the best news ever. It’s expected from someone as smart as you are.”

Peter giggles but shakes his head. “No, it isn’t that. Tony, I got you out.”

Tony literally drops the phone, and has to scramble to grab it again. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Peter beams and shows Tony some paperwork. “All you have to do is sign, and you’ll be out of here. You’ll be under house arrest, with a very nice man checking in on us once every day and once every night. You’ll have an ankle tracker on, and you won’t be allowed to leave the house. But you’ll be living with me, and you’ll be out of prison, and you'll see me every day! And not just that wonderful hologram you invented; I can hug you and hold your hand and...and...” Peter’s smile falters and he his voice trails off. “Tony?”

Tony is staring at Peter with a blank expression, holding the phone so tightly his knuckles are white.

Peter stutters a little, feeling like his heart dropped into his stomach. “I-I mean, you don’t have to sign it. You don’t-you don’t have to come live with me. I mean, I just--I thought you would like to...I thought, I mean you said you missed me and you didn’t want to not see me, so I just thought you...” Peter feels tears start to form in his eyes. “Never-never mind, I thought you--no, I mean, obviously you want to stay in there. You said that, I should have--I overst- I-I should go, actually, I have to visit, um, Rhodey, because he um, he-”

“Peter Benjamin Parker.” Tony interrupts, and it startles Peter into silence. “You spent the entire last year planning on how to get me out of my prison behind my back?”

Peter’s lower lip trembles, and he nods once. “I’m sorry, I thought you might be happy.”

Tony lets out a shaky breath, and Peter is surprised to see tears in his eyes for only the second time in Tony’s adult life. “Nobody in my entire life has ever cared so much about me that they-” his voice breaks, and he starts to shake his head. He slams the phone onto the receiver and goes away from where Peter can see.

Peter feels the tears start to fall down his cheek and he gently hangs up his own phone. He sniffles sadly, grabbing the papers and standing up. He’s about to throw them in the trash when a door suddenly bursts open, startling the boy.

Tony is suddenly there, eyes wet and arms open wide. Peter doesn’t really understand what’s happening until Tony’s arms are around him. “Take me home.”

Peter’s eyes widen into the hug, whimpering softly. “You...you do want to come live with me?”

Tony nods, pulling back and looking at Peter with so much emotion and awe that Peter is overwhelmed. “Peter...” Tony takes a step back, obviously trying to gather himself. “When I first got into prison, I thought I wasn’t ever going to get out. And honestly, I wanted that. I wanted to grow old here, die here, die knowing that I took out as many child rapists as I could. Knowing I made the world a better place, one scum removal at a time.

“But you...you came into my life and I...I just...Something changed in me. I wasn’t burning all the time, I wasn’t dying anymore. I wasn’t staying alive so that I could do my duty; no, when you moved into my cell, I realized I was staying alive so I could see you every day. So I could protect you, and spend time with you and talk to you. And once you were freed, it just made it even more obvious to me that...that I don’t want my old life anymore. The only thing I want is to stay with you, and have you in my life.”

Peter feels so overwhelmed with the confession, he simply hugs Tony and tightly as he can and refuses to let go. “Tony...Come on. Let’s go. Let’s go home.”

[wonwoosthetic]

Could you share some of the svt recs you get too?? I need some more recs as well. (But obviously yours are amazing too!!!)

YESS, of course!!

So, I’m just gonna mix the ones that I got and some of my personal favourites: (in no specific order)

(these are only series recommendations, I can do one shots, etc. too, if you want to🤗)

WARNING: smut (for some)

@meltwonu ‘s entire masterlist. And when I say entire, I truly mean ENTIRE. Writing is immaculate. I love it.

Some of my personal faves:

- caffeine (wonwoo series): who doesn’t love a good frat boy Wonwoo, right?!😫 + the sequel until I met you !!!

- thief (svt): I’m too much in love with the home run mv and every series with that theme, so this is a big MUST READ

- ch-ch-cherry bomb (scoups series): no words. Absolutely no words. Just amazing. I don’t know how to describe it. Just read it. Love it. Such good smut omg.

- pls read all of her drabbles too!! Sooo good!

@wonwoonlight if you don’t know her, you’ve been living under a rock. At this point, I’m convinced everyone know her writing because it’s THAT good

personal faves:

- my daisy (Mingyu series): YOU HAVE TO KNOW THIS! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND. HOW MANY TIMES I HAVE READ THIS.

- my way to you (Wonwoo series): just so beautiful😫 istg I’m a sucker for her writing and this is just another masterpiece

@bubblebeom another pretty famous tumblr writer, I’m pretty sure. She’s another one of those angels sent from heaven with her insane talent for writing.

I can’t even put my faves together, so here is her masterlist

But when talking about series specifically, obviously:

- Heart & Seoul (Wonwoo series): too good. Every carat on this planet has to read this. Chef’s kiss.

- Getting Closer (Wonwoo, Mingyu series): if you’re a carat and have tumblr, you probably already know about this one, but I’m still gonna hype it tf up because this is one that I will also never get tired of reading)

I recently read Vanilla for the first time and Jesus Christ… went back the next day to read it again. Most definitely am going to read it a third time. And a fourth. And who knows how many times again after that. The best Joshua smut I’ve ever read on this app ngl. I actually had to put the phone down because I started blushing so hard.

AND Remind Me. Read it. Loved it. You should too

@heavenshoon Days Off With SVT (SVT series)

Something cute I stumbled upon and I REALLY liked it!! Highly highly recommend!! Very excited to see more of her in the future!🥰👏🏼

@marigold-sunflowers dear stupid diary (Jeonghan series)

This was recommended to me and I still have to start it, but I’m very excited!!!🤭🤗

@twogyuu Terrifyingly Innocent (S.Coups series)

LISTEN. I’ve already reblogged it (and this woman actually asked me if I aren’t a “famous” tumblr writer, GIRL STOP🥹) But I will not shut up about this. I read it now three times and God… LORD… I can’t get enough of it😫😫 it’s TOO GOOD. I will never ever ever get tired of this series.

Gonna start reading all of her other stuff as well!!

And then there’s this series that I, for the love of God, cannot find anymore. It’s literally making me so sad because it was one of my faves.

It played in a Home Run!AU (MY ABSOLUTE FAVE) and it was about the reader being in a relationship with one of the members and they’re on a cruise and a diamond goes missing and they’re trying to find out who stole it.

ISTG IT WAS SO GOOD AND I DON’T KNOW WHERE IT IS OR WHAT IT WAS CALLED😫😭 I think the writer deactivated their account tbh…

I remember the username being something with Minghao and their profile pic too! And they also had another AMAZING series with Wonwoo x idol!Reader… (I think they’re were the same profiles)

So good… so sad to have lost it… I’ll never forgive myself for that

Here are some! I might add a few after a while or post another fic rec if anyone asks :) also: I 100% forgot some, so I’ll most definitely make another fic rec post

If anyone wants to recommend some more to me, feel free to do so!!!!🤗

Thank you for also enjoying my own series♥️🥰♥️

[imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper]

Everything you never thought to ask and never wanted to know about my Josépan playlist/history with and opinions of the ship.

Intro:

The journey of this playlist has been a long one, starting on Amazon Music and my old, janky and now defunct Ipad.

STRAP IN, CHILDREN AS I TAKE YOU BACK TO A MAGICAL TIME WHEN NEITHER LEGENDS OF THE THREE CABALLEROS; NOR THEIR CAMEO IN DUCKTALES HAD BEEN ANNOUNCED YET, MY BLOG ON TUMBLR DIDN’T EXIST (THOUGH I WAS LURKING) AND PANCHITO WAS STILL THE LEAST POPULAR CABALLERO, otherwise known as around late 2017.

A word on the origins of the playlist:

The playlist was not initially Ducktales focused because the two didn’t exist in Ducktales yet. I was rather unenthusiastic back in the day about this ship (oh how the times change) but I had stumbled across a song that didn’t fit them and Donald but fit just them very well and wanted to make an animatic of it. So, I cobbled together some songs I thought fit the vibe and made a playlist.

The history behind the story that inspired it:

I’ll spare you from starting at the very beginning. But, when “The Town Where Everyone was Nice” premiered I was already thoroughly and utterly obsessed with the cabs; I remember how beyond ecstatic I was for the episode. My hype for the Ducktales versions of José and Panchito continued far beyond what seems to have been normal for the average cabs fan. I found myself drawn to the ideas put forth by those versions of them. I don’t really remember what the tipping point was for me to break down and make my own college AU but eventually I did. It was affectionately dubbed “The TV Show That Will Never Happen AU.” José and Panchito were enemies to lovers or at least to friends. And it was around that time I began to go CRAZY with the headcanons as I got more active in the fandom. While my ideas for the Ducktales versions of them grew and grew, so too did the time between them appearing in “The Town Where Everyone was Nice” and their alleged next appearance in the show. When fans noticed the distinct lack of José and Panchito in the season two finale of Ducktales, Francisco Angones, @//suspenderofdisbelief on Tumblr answered these two separate asks that I might have engraved on tombstone one day:

I was GONE for the ship after that. I developed another AU for them based around their time in Baia trying to get people to fund their attempts to become famous musicians. Also, slowly falling in love... It was affectionately titled “The Fan-Comic that Will Never Happen” but not yet connected to my college AU. I don’t have much of a timeline for it after this point, but with that AU I really hit my stride for interpretations of the two characters and their dynamic. The version of them I hold dear in my heart and headcanons came to be. Then “Louie’s Eleven” came out and absolutely destroyed a lot of my headcanons (just kidding, just kidding). Since the new canon material didn’t really jive with a lot of the wholesomeness I had built up I was left with a lot of something else: angst. I LOVE angst, but the two’s bitterness and arguing...It was hard to accept at the time. Me and @cartoon-lizard on Tumblr, my IRL best friend, wound up writing a Josépan fic fueled on a bit of that angst and by her grace, a lot of my headcanons. I titled it “My Reverie is Being Haunted by That Ass.” In it Panchito makes an ass (rimshot noises) of himself by running off with a producer he met by chance during a visit in Duckburg to try to become famous. And doing so without so much as a second thought to the person he’s been living with/sort of dating for over a year. It took me a while but eventually I figured it out. These weren’t three separate AUs, these were three separate pieces of the same AU. And so my masterpiece never meant to be made came to be: “The Trilogy: College/Baia/Reverie.”

“The Trilogy” Itself:

The story will never be written for a variety of reasons, personal and practical. But if it ever were to be written it would be three separate fics, aka: College, Baia and Reverie.

College encapsulates their college years (duh).

To set the stage:

Panchito: A friendly, arrogant and easily excitable musician with big dreams, good grades and a whole lot of anxiety and insecurity. He has complicated feelings towards his identity as both trans and pan and how that might affect his dreams of becoming famous, but is overall bright eyed and innocent enough.

José: A lazy (depressed), charming, pessimistic, tbh kind of a douche and deep in the closet gay man. He tends to push forward a very “Manly man” persona to make up for his own deep seated internalized homophobia brought on by a shitty upbringing. He just got away from said shitty upbringing and doesn’t really have any hopes for his future...Maybe to travel a bit?

José and Panchito start as enemies, both fearing losing their one real friend, Donald, to the other. Despite this the three start a band and the two’s rivalry becomes far more friendly. They get particularly close during the trip down to Acapulco for spring break where the general feeling of being disconnected from life and reality leads to several rather romantic moments between the two...They almost become a thing several times but never quite do. However, they are very good friends by the end of college. The three stay in contact for a while after college but eventually lose touch…

Baia timeskips forward 13 years later (I know it's only 10 canonically, I always say 13 for reasons) to a conversation between Panchito and José on the Sunchaser at the end of “The Town Where Everyone Was Nice.”

Panchito: Life hasn’t been kind to Panchito...His need to be famous, to be something in order to be someone has led him to push a lot of people out of his life so he can better focus on “Work.” Or drive them out by constantly asking for their support, financial or otherwise. He has no friends and even his relationships with his loving and supportive family are strained. Currently, he’s working freelance as a performer at childrens’ birthday parties (in his eyes: a clown) and goes home to a sad, empty apartment every night to stare at a notebook full of half written songs and muster enough energy to eat cereal for dinner for the third time in a row. Needless to say, his optimism is wearing thin.

José: A lot of hard work on his part, some good therapy and mmm; drugs have put him in a pretty good place. He’s more or less got his life together now, is way less of a douche and is more of a realist than a pessimist. He’s also pretty much completely comfortable in his identity as a gay man. He’s been trying to explore romantic relationships, but unfortunately (likely due to the loveless marriage between his parents making him strive so hard to believe that love is real that he puts the unrealistic goal of true love above all else) feels incomplete without one and double unfortunately has a tendency to be drawn to toxicity and abusive situations. So other than a string of (short lived) bad relationships, he’s actually doing great!

Panchito has already asked Donald to drop everything and stay with him down in Baia to try to get funding for the band. Donald said no. José has a steady job, a decent apartment and a supportive friend group back home. He's also long since lost interest and hope in their college dreams of being famous...José says yes. The two have a bunch of wild and wacky shenanigans trying to get funding and both dance around their growing feelings for each other until it explodes and overwhelms them. They rush into a romantic relationship head first with no real ground for it to be built on and unrealistic expectations of what the other can give them. Despite all this, things seem quite happy...for a while…

If you've made it this far, <3, CONT. in pt 2.

[k-sci-janitor]

So I finished DCWT last night and while I know this fic is quote unquote famous and also rightly contentious, I still had some thoughts on it that I wanted to spew out long form style on here, SO-

To be clear, this was a fic I avoided for a LONG TIME

You know when people hype up a thing as like, the pinnacle of whatever? And if you haven’t read it, you’re not a real fan? Yeah well, that was the vibe I got with this dumb fic for a long time while absolutely no one told me that, it was just my dumb brain being judgmental to myself really, lol. Anyway why would I wanna read a fic that famously doesn’t have any tags? I mean, who does that?? Anyway-

So what changed your mind?

Well I watched this wonderful video (everyone, GO WATCH THIS VIDEO) and even tho the creator simultaneously hyped and un-hyped DCWT, it got me intrigued and a little cautious about finally just giving it go. It had literally been sitting on my kindle for months and I just finally decided to see what it was I was missing.

So you got past that opening, huh?

MY GOD. My biggest initial hurtle getting thru this damn thing was just the opening. It was verbose. It didn’t make much sense. It didn’t even seem like this author and I had watched the same movie. Everything about it was off putting and strange and I must’ve picked it up and put it down like 10 times. Don’t do this. I’ve only written a little bit personally but the fastest way I chuck a book/fic/whatever away from me is a terrible opening or like, an opening so fucking confusing that it’s unclear that it’ll get better from here.

So it got better from there?

Okay yes, it did, thank goodness. At a certain point it became more clear and I realized the fic had started with a wildly confusing intro to show, you know, how m e s s e d up they were post-drift, cognitively, emotionally, etc. The story eventually started to speed up and I got engaged with the action and finally I couldn’t put it down. It took a while tho!! But I also HAD to put it down at some points.

Oh, why?

So, remember when I said there was no tags and everything I had gathered about this fic was secondhand knowledge? I didn’t really know how in depth the fic was going to describe disassociation and panic attacks. I don’t mind mentions of these things in other fics I've read but DCWT really delves into them in a way that made me, someone prone to panic attacks, really uncomfortable. It basically just hit a little too close to home for me and I occasionally had to put it down so I could breathe or find myself in a different headspace to be able to read these descriptions. This could easily affect someone else pretty harshly.

And like, I know these descriptions are fictional, they're not going to hurt me but they read real enough to me and they’re happening to a character I care a lot about and it was genuinely distressing to read. I also generally don’t read angsty fics because like I said, I don’t really like thinking deeply about Newt or Hermann having something overtly terrible to their bodies (sorry Kaiju!Newt fans, I get eeked out!!). Sometimes I can handle it if it’s abstract enough but sometimes I can’t. I especially find it hard if it's crouched in something I have personal experience with (the panic attacks, sigh). Tags, people, YOU USE THEM.

So did you even like this fic??? SPOILERS BELOW 👇👇👇

Omg so I actually did. Newt and Hermann’s characterizations were really good. Newt was quite possibly the world’s biggest asshole while I wanted nothing more than to give this Hermann a really big hug. Since this fic is so long, it gets a chance to really hone in on their dynamic and how they care for each other. They literally call each other their "life partners" before they examine if they're actually dating or not. I really enjoyed that a reader could interpret their relationship as ace, it totally works. And I still got my big damn kiss! Jokes that have been building up for like 100k words have an amazing pay off and was super funny to read. Also somehow NO ONE told me about the AI self-driving cars and were my surprise favorite characters. Mako's characterization was also some of the best things I've read about her and I loved her and Newt's relationship a lot.

So it was fine in the end?? MORE SPOILERS 👇👇👇

Well, no, I think I'm just sensitive to the idea that Newt's mind is tearing itself apart due to the kaiju, due to Hermann occasionally taking over, due to his own dumb hang-ups. It's a melancholy read is where I would place it. Their dynamic is difficult and real in it's terror of what's happened to them. A BIG SURPRISE for me was Newt's third drift and the fact the PPDC may or may not have coerced him to do it while he was on anti-seizure drugs?? IT'S REALLY UPSETTING. I don’t like the immediate alienation from the PPDC, I mean, I also don’t like the military but the idea that they would whisk Newt away like that is weird and I dunno. It’s fucked, whatever.

It was just a weird, hard read for me emotionally and I don’t blame anyone who decides to just put it down. And it has SUCH good stuff hidden in there (the AI cars, Hermann buying a Porsche on a whim and being a scary driver, that fucking hair stroking thing) but it’s a roller coaster and I honestly don’t know what to make of a fic that has it’s own PR person to hype it up, lmao.

So what do you recommend?

Approach cautiously! I’ll even make a short list of tags here: Descriptions of epilepsy, seizures, nosebleeds, disassociation, panic attacks, eye damage, hand surgery, Drinking and depictions of drunkenness, underage drinking mentions, implied drugging, descriptions of imagined head surgery, suicidal thoughts.

And hey, you might be a tough guy who reads fucked up fics all the time and I just sound like a wimp here, that’s fine!! I just felt complicated about this fic (liking and hating it, ugh) and wanted to get down what I thought about it while it was fresh. And like, y’all know me, I like cute, fluffy shit where they kiss for the first time or whatever. But I occasionally will dip into scarier stuff. I just don’t know if this is everyone’s cup of tea and wanted to elaborate. 😮‍💨

[fruitcoops]

eve omg omg omg the jules fic was so amazing!!!! i'm so excited for the rest :))))

Here’s part two of Adventures in Babysitting! The editing was being finnicky, so I’m sorry for the wait. Hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather and Jules credit belongs to @lumosinlove!

“Are you warm enough?” Sirius asked as he swiped Jules’ bangs beneath the edge of his beanie. Jules nodded, still sleepy even at seven thirty in the morning. “D’accord, let’s get going. Re, did you let Hattie out?”

“Yep, she’s all set in the living room.” Remus kissed him as he passed, hauling his duffel up and resting his hand between Jules’ shoulder blades to guide him down the steps. “Careful, buddy, it’s slippery.”

“I know,” Jules mumbled. “D’you think it’ll snow?”

Sirius looked up—the sky was still fairly dark, but smudges of thick grey clouds seemed to be rolling in. “Probably.”

The drive to the rink was quiet and peaceful; a six o’clock wake up call was tough even on the best of mornings, when they didn’t have a third tiny person to worry about. Regulus sounded like he was waking as they left the house, and Sirius hoped he’d stick around long enough to say goodbye. Pascal’s house wasn’t far, but Sirius knew he would miss having him around.

“Morning, boys,” Remus called as they entered the locker room.

“Morning,” Kasey yawned, stretching his thigh out. “How’s the kid?”

“Sleepy.”

“Big mood. He’s with Moody again today?”

“Yep. They’ll probably come watch again at some point.” Remus smiled to himself. “Thank you guys for showing off yesterday, by the way. He couldn’t stop talking about it the whole evening.”

“Who’s ready to win a game?” James whooped, barging in and looking far too awake for his own good.

Leo frowned. “Game’s tomorrow, Pots.”

“It’s never too early to get hyped, baby rookie.” James patted him on the head as he passed and Leo scowled.

“I’m not a rookie anymore! Loops is!”

“If I call Loops a rookie, he’s going to make sure I never have children again,” James laughed, throwing a t-shirt to Remus from across the aisle. “Here, I borrowed that a couple weeks ago.”

Remus gave it a tentative sniff. “Dude, you didn’t even wash it?”

“It’s something to remember me by.”

“You’re a walking nightmare.”

“Nah, you love me.”

There was a new intensity to their practice that morning—they had beat the Ravens before, sure, but that didn’t mean they were guaranteed to win this time. Even James centered himself, tapping a puck back and forth with Remus until it was nothing but a blur between them. Sirius didn’t see Jules or Moody at any point throughout their ice time, which left him a little disappointed when the timer went off and it was time to hit the gym.

They all did lighter workouts, more like cool down exercises rather than legitimate muscle-building routines. Sirius let himself fall into the rhythm of squats, pushups, and jump-roping until each beat of his heart aligned with the impact of his feet on the mats. The jingle of his ringtone finally signaled the end of practice and a collective sigh went up.

“See you tomorrow, gents,” Nado said as he stood and stretched his back. Sirius felt the mood change as the pre-game heaviness settling over them like a weighted blanket.

Remus wandered over and gave his shoulder a light nudge. “I’ll shower and get Jules while you finish up, yeah?”

“Sounds good. I’ll be quick.” Sirius pressed their foreheads together in lieu of a kiss before turning back to the rest of the guys as stretches began. “You know the spiel. Get some sleep, carb load, all that jazz.”

“Got it, Cap,” Leo said. He tried for a smile, though he looked troubled.

“The Ravens are a great team, but we’re better. We beat them before and we can do it again. Shake off the weird vibes, okay? We can do this.” We have to if we want to make it to the playoffs, he thought instinctively before reaching over to tap the strip of wooden floor that the mats didn’t quite cover. Nope. No playoff thoughts. Just the game.

Eight minutes and a dozen fist-bumps later, they arrived at the locker room in a jumble of bodies. Sirius paused at the end of the hall and heard more than one quiet ‘awww’; Remus was waiting outside, as promised, with Jules fast asleep in his arms. He winked when he saw them and held a finger to his lips, stepping out of the way so they could sneak past.

Moving over a dozen fully-grown hockey players through a small space was not the most stealthy of activities, especially when all of them lingered to get a look at the sleeping child—it was no surprise that Jules woke up partway through and blinked drowsily at them. “Hmm?”

“It’s okay, buddy, you can sleep,” Remus murmured, hitching him a little higher up. “We’re heading home soon.”

“But I wanna watch,” Jules said, pouting slightly. Kasey made a soft noise and put his hand over his heart.

“You can watch the game tomorrow,” James said in a gentle voice. It wasn’t baby talk, persay, but Sirius had definitely heard him use that same soothing tone when Harry started to fuss. Jules snuggled his face into Remus’ neck again with a hum.

Sirius showered quickly and grabbed his bag, barely checking to see if his stuff was all there before ducking out of the locker room with a final mock-salute to the guys. “How long has he been asleep?” he asked as he picked up Remus’ duffel.

“He was out cold on the PT table.” Remus laughed under his breath. “Moody said he was a firecracker for about an hour and a half, but he came back from the bathroom and found him all curled up.”

“That’s so fucking cute. Did you get a picture?”

“Already sent it to my folks.” Remus carefully set Jules in the backseat of the car and buckled him in while Sirius closed the trunk as quietly as he could. Once they were in their respective seats, Remus leaned over the console and gave him a proper kiss, nice and slow. It sent a buzz all the way down to Sirius’ toes.

The lights were off at the house when they arrived; Jules was fully awake by then and Sirius watched his face fall at the same time his own heart clenched. “Regulus left.”

“Yeah, I think so. It’s okay, we’ll see him tomorrow.” Sirius added the last sentence partly for himself—he tried to keep in mind that Regulus was an adult and had moved out ages ago, but they had settled into their routine so quickly. He didn’t want the house to feel empty again.

“Hey.” Remus’ hand was light on his elbow and he blinked, looking over at his smile. “You alright?”

“Yeah, all good. Let’s get some lunch.” He offered a smile that he knew was weak, but Remus linked their hands all the same and kissed his cheek before getting both their bags out of the back.

Jules was playing hopscotch with the checkerboard of ice patches on the sidewalk; it had snowed while they were at practice, after all. There was a faint bark from inside and Jules gasped happily, racing toward the front door with reckless abandon and pressing his face against the wood. “Hi, Hattie-girl!”

Sirius unlocked the door, bending slightly to absorb her impact as she tumbled into them both and covered Jules’ face in kisses, wiggling to pieces with sheer joy. She sprinted for her toy box and grabbed a knotted rope, trotting back to Jules for him to grab the other end and tug.

“Do we have leftovers from last night?’ Remus called from the doorway when Sirius headed into the kitchen.

“I don’t think so, but we have turkey. How does a sandwich sound?”

“F—uh, really great.” Remus grimaced as he walked in and dropped his wallet on the counter. “I have got to be better about my language. Mom’s still mad at me for teaching Jules to say ‘fuck’, and that was years ago.”

“You had no qualms about teaching Harry bad words.”

“And you had no qualms about being on a desert island without me,” Remus said coolly. “Yet here we are.”

“Touché.” Sirius turned around to construct the sandwiches and felt someone lightly slap his ass. He laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Hello.”

“Hey,” Remus grinned, stealing a slice of cheese from his small pile and hopping up to sit on the counter.

“I don’t know why you do that.”

“Slap your ass or steal food? I do both because I love you.”

“I meant sitting on the counter. You know, where we eat.”

“I like to feel extra tall,” Remus said, reaching for another slice of cheese until Sirius gently smacked his hand away.

“Shortie.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s a bad word,” Jules said from the doorway with a smile. He looked quite disheveled from playing with the dog.

Remus sighed. “It is, indeed. Don’t repeat it.”

“I could.”

“But you won’t.”

“I could.”

“I’ll tell mom.”

“She’d blame you for teaching me.”

“I’ll tell dad.”

“He’d think it was hilarious, and then he’d tell mom and she’d chew you out.”

Remus rolled his eyes and scooted over to make room for Jules to hop up next to him. Sirius threw his hands in the air. “Both of you! What the hell? Who taught you to do that?”

They shared a glance and shrugged. Sirius was starting to understand why people thought it was creepy how similar he and Regulus looked. “It’s a side effect of being the wiry kids on the block when everyone else is taller,” Remus said, snorting as Jules flexed his skinny arms.

Sirius handed them each a sandwich and, with a heavy sigh, boosted himself up to join them. The marble was cold, but it was…kind of fun to swing his legs and get a few extra inches of height. “I think he likes it,” Jules stage-whispered to Remus.

“It’s not horrible,” Sirius conceded, taking a bite of his food.

“Come to the Dark Side, we have the best places to sit.”

Jules widened his eyes and wiggled his fingers at Sirius until they were all laughing too hard to actually eat, then fell into silence as hunger took precedence after not having anything substantial since breakfast. “Are you good with reading or watching TV for a bit while we take a nap?” Remus asked between sips of water. Jules nodded, still making his way through his sandwich.

“What’re we doing after?”

Sirius paused at the same time Remus stopped halfway through a drink of water. They made eye contact, and he knew they were thinking the exact same thing: oh, fuck, we actually have to do things with a child around. “Uh, we’re…going to the park,” Remus said.

Jules made a happy noise around his sandwich and swung his legs. “Cool!”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Okay, mom.”

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

The park was a winter wonderland, to say the least. Four inches of snow coated the grassy field and weighed down the branches of the trees lining the playfield, where about a dozen kids built snowmen with their parents. Hattie’s breath fogged the window as they parked and her wagging tail lightly smacked Jules’ forehead every few seconds.

Jules was out of the car the second Sirius turned the engine off, grabbing Hattie’s leash and leaping into the nearest snowbank with a whoop. Remus burst out laughing and followed him with a final glance over his shoulder to Sirius.

They were making halfhearted snow angels when he finally wandered over to the snowbank. They looked so peaceful, so content and happy.

Remus gasped when the first snowball hit him dead center in his chest. Jules laughed even harder until the next one landed in the neck of his coat and poured a veritable waterfall of snow down his front. They both stared up at Sirius in shock and betrayal; he grinned and tucked his chilly hands into his pockets.

“Go for the legs, Jules,” Remus advised as he scrambled up, keeping one hand on his beanie so it didn’t fall off.

Sirius barely made it three steps before Jules grabbed him around the shin and nearly tripped him. He did his best not to drag the kid face-first through the snow, but Jules didn’t seem to mind as he hooked an arm around his other ankle and Remus collided with his shoulder, sending all three of them to the ground in a heap. “Ugh.”

“Gotcha,” Jules said, clambering onto his chest with a breathless smile. Hattie, who had come over to see what all the fuss was about, began licking his half-frozen ear.

Remus sprinkled a handful of snow onto his face, slowly obscuring his view until everything was icy and white. “Vengeance is sweet, huh, buddy?”

“Totally.”

Sirius wiped the snow away and blinked up at two pairs of amber eyes. “I surrender?”

“I should hope so,” Remus laughed as he stood up and brushed himself off, offering a hand to help him to his feet. He kissed his nose in consolation as Jules took Hattie’s leash and ran off toward the playfield, where he would no doubt make seven new best friends within the hour.

“Cute kid,” a middle-aged woman with a kind smile said as she stopped next to them.

“Isn’t he?” Sirius smiled as Hattie rolled onto her back for belly rubs from three different kids.

“How old?”

“Ten.”

Her eyebrows rose and she looked at Remus. “You must have been young when you had him.”

“What? Oh, no, he’s my little brother!” he said quickly.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, you just look so similar,” she laughed, clearly embarrassed.

“No worries, it happens all the time. Which one is yours?”

She pointed to a giggling little girl on the swings, whose dark curls were braided back into a poofy bun. “Lena turned twelve yesterday.”

“Aw, happy birthday to her!” Sirius wrapped his arm around Remus’ waist and put his hand in his back pocket, pulling him close for warmth. They both waved to Jules when he looked over and beamed at them.

The temperature dropped rapidly as four thirty came and the sun began to set; soon, the fat flakes of snow grew smaller and icier as they flurried around the park. Lena and her mother left about half an hour before Remus started bouncing on his toes in an effort to keep warm. Sirius considered himself a decent fiancé, so he figured it would be best to not let Remus freeze solid.

Jules was damp and shivering with melted snow when they got back to the house and Hattie immediately laid down in front of the heater vent as he ran upstairs for a hot bath; Remus and Sirius peeled their soaked outer layers off and hung them in the bathroom to dry.

“If he gets hypothermia, mom’s gonna kill me,” Remus muttered as he shook Jules’ scarf out over the bathtub, though Sirius could see the genuine concern in his eyes.

“He’ll be fine,” he assured him with a gentle hip check. “We were only there for a couple hours and we left pretty quick after it got really cold.”

“He was shivering in the car.”

“Re.” Sirius set his coat down and took Remus’ face between his hands. “Jules will be just fine.”

“We would be really good parents.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Not now, obviously, but I think we’d be good parents.” Sudden nervousness shadowed his face. “Sorry, that was way out of the blue. Do you—do you not want that?”

“No, I do! I really, really do but…we’ve never talked about it before. Like, in depth.” I wouldn’t be a good dad. I barely know what a good parent looks like, aside from yours and the Potters.

Remus relaxed. “Oh. Well, I don’t think it would be a great idea to adopt kids while we’re still working full time playing hockey, but in the future…” He shrugged, the edge of his mouth ticking up in a smile. “I think about it sometimes.”

“Me, too.” There was a splash upstairs and they both laughed. “Well, I guess we’re about to have an indoor swimming pool.”

“I’ll get the towels.”

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

Sirius was almost done with the dinner dishes when he realized he hadn’t heard much noise from Jules’ room in quite a while, and yet Remus had yet to come back downstairs. He paused, listening to the muffled voices—no, not voices. Just one.

He rinsed the last plate and washed his hands, making a face at the weird soap texture and the ensuing dryness of his knuckles. There were few chores he genuinely disliked, but dishes were one of them.

The door to the guest bedroom was still open when he went upstairs, and a soft light shone out. He stopped in the doorway, a greeting dying in his throat.

“—‘hold it up!’ said Gandalf. ‘And look closely!’” Remus lowered his voice into a grumble as he read Gandalf’s lines; Jules was entranced, though he struggled to keep his eyes open for more than three seconds at a time. “As Frodo did so, he now saw fine lines, finer than the finest pen-strokes, running along the ring, outside and inside: lines of fire that seemed to form the letters of a flowing script.”

He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Sirius, flushing faint pink. In the pause, Jules sighed softly. “Why’d you stop?”

“We’ll pick it up again tomorrow night,” Remus whispered, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. “Sleep well, buddy.”

“Sweet dreams,” Sirius added.

Jules mumbled and snuggled deeper under the blankets while Remus set the book on the nightstand and turned the bedside lamp off.

“That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Sirius said as soon as he had closed the door behind them and they walked down the hall to their bedroom. “Was that The Hobbit?”

“Fellowship of the Ring. It’s one of my favorites, and he picked it up this afternoon while we were napping.” Remus pulled his shirt off and sifted through their sheets for his pajama pants. “Did you do the dishes?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks, baby. That was really sweet of you.”

“You were busy being adorable.”

“Shush,” Remus scoffed, though the blush returned to his cheeks as he curled up under the covers and made grabby hands toward Sirius. “C’mere.”

The bed was cold when he laid down, but Remus was warm, and soon they were tangled together as the moon shone through their window. Sirius drifted off to slow breaths and dreams of the future, where maybe—just maybe—their kid wouldn’t have to leave after four more days. 

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Come Home

Prompts: Omg ur twins series has given me the seratonin I didn’t know I needed ;-; love ur fics!!! can I request maybe a one shot where Merlin confronts hunith about his birth parents, and they have a wholesome talk about it? Also bonus points for Merlin coming to terms with the fact that uther is his father and Morgana is his half sister (everyone notices now that they share similar features) - anon

ahhhh i loved the second installment of the twin series, the ending makes me yearn for more no matter how much i reread it *prompt idea* brotherly love pleaseeee, you've built so much hype 😭 some overprotective arthur over his younger brother, maybe some asshole noble treating merlin like shit because he grew up peasant, a merlin-arthur talk about feelings and new revelations, merlin-morgana-arthur talk (maybe?) take as long as you want really, no pressure i know it'll be worth it but a bit longer third installment please 💘 - anon

I have a very simple request oh ruler of the angst town. You've been graciously filling the stomachs of the Sanders Sides fandom but the Merlin fandom requests one thing: More, please, oh good lord. Thank you - alittletoo-obsessed

SO MANY OF YOU WERE SCREAMING FOR A PART THREE SO HERE YOU GO

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none, babes.

Pairings: it's found family hours

Word Count: 4574

The twins come home.

After a long, long time, the twins come home.

For Arthur, home is that empty space just over his shoulder, always there when he turns absentmindedly to talk to someone he never thought he’d see again. Home is someone to curl up with when the nights get cold and lonely, dark hair brushing under the tip of his nose as he wraps them in his arms. Home is someone else to see what’s happening, to stand as a silent vow of I’m here, I see you, I’m with you, I’ve got you.

For Merlin, home is someone who knows he’s not crazy, who catches him when he flies too high on the wings of his magic. Home is someone who wraps firm, solid arms around him, smelling of slightly spiced fruit and afternoon sun. Home is the space the magic curls about, searching for something to hold onto like an anchor as the world spins faster, faster, faster.

They leave the hall where Uther still sits, thunderstruck on his hollow throne, back to Arthur’s chambers. They don’t part when they get inside, stumbling across the room to the bed, somewhere they can sit and look and look at each other where there is no one else can see. Arthur reaches out to run his hand through Merlin’s hair.

“I always thought your hair would be dark,” he mumbles, losing himself in the way his fingers card through the strands. “Just had a feeling.”

“Mum’s hair was never dark enough to be mine.” Merlin closes his eyes as he feels Arthur’s hand go through it. “And—and Balinor, he—he wasn’t the right magic.”

Arthur’s hand stills. “Balinor was your father?”

“He was married to Hunith, he—but—“

Arthur’s arms are suddenly around him, warm and perfect and real and it feels like something else slots into place. Arthur’s breath warms the top of his head and Merlin feels his fingertips start to buzz.

“I’m sorry,” he realizes Arthur’s saying, “I didn’t—if I’d’ve known, I would’ve—“

They will come to find that they don’t need words. Merlin just buries his nose in the crook of Arthur’s neck and breathes in the smell of home.

“I kept the blanket I was taken in,” he mumbles, “and it smelled like this.”

“Like—like me?”

Merlin nods. “Fruit. Sunlight. Warm.”

“Warm doesn’t have a smell, Merlin.”

“Sure it does.”

“What does it smell like, then?”

“Warm! You don’t explain what apples smell like, they just smell like apple.”

“Sure you can, they smell tart, a little sweet, but it’s a thin smell, it’s not rich.”

“Where and why do you know how to describe smells so well?”

“Morgana went through an alchemy phase, dragged me into being her test subject.”

Merlin snorts, nuzzling deeper into Arthur’s warmth. “I imagine you reeked of an awful assortment of perfumes.”

“Oh, it was an excellent way to get out of court duty.”

They laugh together. Then Merlin quiets, burying his nose in the smell of home and willing his magic to help him come up with something.

“…it’s barely noticeable,” he says quietly, “but it’s…it’s there. It’s slightly, um, it smells a bit like old leather, or old wood, but it’s…it’s earthier.”

Arthur’s quiet for a moment, then Merlin feels his head turn and bury into Merlin’s hair.

“I always thought you’d be colder.” His arms tighten slightly, as if he can feel how Merlin’s magic is trying to pull him closer—and hey, maybe he can. “I—you used to get really strong on winter nights. I used to imagine that you’d—you’d be cold and it was my job to keep you warm and if you were warm, you’d—you’d stay.”

“I’ll stay,” Merlin says immediately, “I’ll stay.”

“You’d better.”

For Arthur, it’s finally seeing that figure sprinting ahead of him, goading him to chase faster and faster. It’s hearing about how cruel bullies were and sternly promising that if anyone ever tries anything like that again, he’ll kick their arse. It’s hearing a mumbles admission of crying while angry and promising that he’ll never judge Merlin for crying, not when he’s here to protect him.

For Merlin, it’s his magic finally having both of them to wrap its blanket around, someone else to hold him firmly when it can’t do the job itself. It’s hearing about how lonely life as a prince can be and vowing that he’s just going to sit next to Arthur and damn all the customs. It’s hearing about the cruelty of a king that didn’t know how to be a father first and muttering that Uther would see what the bloody hell he was doing wrong.

It’s home.

——————————————

News that Uther has another son spreads like a sickness in the castle. Servants whisper that the long-lost boy has returned, that the curse of the dead queen has lifted because her son is back, that finally, finally, Uther will stop the hell-path he’s wrought upon the kingdom.

Servants whisper that the nobles won’t like this. That they’re sick of having to put up with Arthur already, that if there’s another son, they’ll have another obstacle in their path.

Some nobles are clever.

They know that if Uther has a peasant son, he’ll have to make the boy a noble or denounce him completely. Or, and this is not a very likely option, he’ll have to accept that he has one royal son and one peasant son.

Some nobles aren’t clever.

They think that if Uther has another son, it doesn’t matter.

The nobles that know the knights know that they won’t be able to get within ten feet of Merlin. Many of them don’t want to. They’re not quite sure what position Merlin holds in court, but it’s not a manservant’s. They know that the boy who came to Camelot and managed to get the prince to shut up for once is a good one. Some of them hold the opinion that if Uther is what he made his son into, he might actually listen to the boy as well.

The nobles that don’t know the knights are stupid.

One such noble decides that it doesn’t matter whether or not the boy is of royal blood, the king hasn’t claimed him, and thus he is still a peasant.

He decides, in his infinite wisdom, to humiliate the boy by dousing him with wine for forgetting to thank him for giving him an order.

Merlin has been covered with wine before, this isn’t new to him. What is new is that he has a brother that takes great pleasure in dragging the unsuspecting noble to the front of the room and publicly shaming him.

“Have you so little sense of yourself that you must stoop to the humiliation of others for your own amusement? Perhaps if you spent more time thinking of what to do with your words you wouldn’t be so intimidated by the confidence of someone else. I would be surprised to learn if you had a mind since your only defense is to sling wine all over someone’s front. You are a disgrace to everything you proclaim to be and I would be ashamed of you if you were one of my men.”

It’s not the most direct way to banish someone and strip them of their place in court, but it is one of the more entertaining.

Of course, when a noble is demoted to a knight, he ends up at the mercy of the elder knights on the training field. It’s one of the only times Gwaine shows up promptly for a training session.

Merlin mumbles that Arthur didn’t have to do that, that he’s had worse, but later in the privacy of their rooms, Arthur says that he’s making up for the years where he wasn’t there.

“And it wasn’t just for you, it was for the knights too.”

“How noble.”

——————————————

It’s in the way Arthur still tries to turn into the tower corridor that first tips Merlin off. It’s the way his hands still twitch toward an old sword hanging on the wall. It’s the way he turns to his other side, not where Merlin always stands, expecting someone to be there. It’s the way he looks at the other side of Uther’s throne, expecting there to be another one.

It’s the way Merlin knows what feels like to miss another half of yourself.

“I want to find her,” he says quietly after a long day, “she’s your sister.”

Arthur pauses, fingers faltering on the edge of a cabinet. His head bows low.

“She is, Arthur,” Merlin says, standing, “and she’s mine too.”

“I know.”

“There’s still good in her, Arthur, I know there is.”

“I know.”

“I—“ Merlin swallows. “I’m to blame for what she’s become, I’m the one who poisoned her.”

“I’m the one who drove her away from the start,” Arthur says, a rueful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “I’m not blameless either.”

There’s a pause.

Arthur glances at Merlin. “There was a time when I thought you were her. That the—the person I was missing was her.”

“She’s magic too, it makes sense.”

Arthur nods, staring into space. “But she wasn’t you. Her—I guess I didn’t know it was magic, then, but her—her magic never felt right.”

He turns to take a hunting satchel down from the hook.

“Do you know how to find her?”

“Yes,” Merlin says, “but you’re not coming.”

“What?”

Merlin holds his hands up. “She’ll try to kill you, you know it. She won’t listen to you. Not at first.”

“And she won’t try to kill you? You poisoned her!”

“I have magic. She can’t beat me.”

“Merlin.”

“I’ll be safe!”

“When have you ever been safe in your life?”

“Like you’re in any position to judge!”

The bickering continues until Merlin grabs Arthur’s arm and tells him that he needs to do this. That it has to be him, only him, that he knows how to reach Morgana in a way that Arthur can’t.

Arthur lets him go with a strict promise to be back in a fortnight, no more.

Merlin knows how to find Morgana. Arthur’s connection to magic isn’t like his, but he is born of the stuff. And so is Morgana.

There’s a tingle in Merlin’s fingertips non-stop when he’s in Camelot, his magic tugging him towards Arthur and the magic in him. But Uther’s blood flows in both of their veins, so if he focuses, he can find Morgana.

His travels lead him to a forest home, modest and slight, but secure enough that he knows he can’t just walk in. There are half a dozen places where she could be hiding nearby, half a dozen more where traps could be. So he picks his way carefully through the undergrowth and knocks on her door.

He expects to be knocked out and strung up. He doesn’t expect her to raise an eyebrow and try and bind him with a curse.

He bats the curse away without trying to hide the way his eyes glow gold.

Morgana’s eyes widen and she stumbles back. He raises his hands and weathers the spitting, the curses—just cusses, this time—of his betrayal, how dare he, and apologizes.

“You were the vessel,” he says as his only defense, “I didn’t think there was any other way.”

“And what if you told me?” She draws herself up, looking every bit the queen she was born to be. “I could’ve helped! Perhaps I would’ve taken it of my own free will, you had no right to strip me of that choice.”

“I know. And I am sorry. For all of it. For not telling you, for trying to kill you, for—for everything.”

She evaluates him cooly. “Well, I suppose that’s that, then? You want me to accept your apology and toddle back to Camelot?”

And the thing is…he can see it now.

He and Arthur don’t share that many features, but he and Morgana…

It’s the angular jaw. The way the nose slopes slightly to the right instead of the left. The way one eye is a little bit longer than the other. The dark hair, wavy but not too wavy. The slender build, the sharp shoulders.

The way their magic curls about their fingertips before the spell is cast.

Morgana seems to notice him staring and frowns, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

“Sorry,” he manages, still marveling at how he never noticed, “sorry, I just…”

“Just…what?”

His magic thrums in his hands, telling him to let it go, reach out to their sister, help her see. He obeys, opening his hand and letting the magic swirl up, into the air. Morgana’s eyes widen and she takes a step back, preparing a defensive spell of her own only for her jaw to drop as her magic touches Merlin’s.

It doesn’t feel like coming home, not like finding Arthur did, but it feels like something.

“What…how is this possible?”

“I’m your brother,” Merlin whispers, peering through the lattice of magic, “I—you’re my sister.”

At the word ‘sister,’ something in Morgana’s magic flinches. Merlin frowns, peering closer, eyes widening when he notices a dark patch, almost as if the magic is bruised from being constrained. His own magic touches it carefully, recoiling in shock.

“What is that? Morgana, what happened to you?”

She rubs her wrist absent-mindedly, her face contorting into a scowl. “The last person to call me ‘sister.’”

Merlin’s eyes widen. Morgana retracts her magic, burying it deep inside herself and taking a deep breath. When she looks at Merlin again, she looks almost like the woman Merlin met in Camelot.

“So. That means Arthur’s your brother too.”

Merlin nods. “I was…we were born of the same magic.”

“And that makes Uther your father.”

Merlin's face contorts in rage and Morgana snorts.

“Yes, that was my reaction too.”

“Balinor was my father,” Merlin says firmly, curling his hands into fists, “Uther is not.”

“But you have his blood,” Morgana says quietly, not meaning to hurt, just to inform, “and you are bound to him. Just as I am.”

Now it is Merlin that has to look desperately at Morgana, hoping for it to be anything other than the truth.

“You can’t have Arthur without Uther, Merlin,” she murmurs, “you have to accept that. You can’t have Arthur without Camelot. You can’t have your brother without your father.”

“And what about my sister?”

Her smile is sad. “I had neither for a long time.”

“I just got my sister,” Merlin says firmly, “I’m not letting her go again.”

“Oh, and that’s your decision, is it?”

Merlin blinks. “Um—well, I mean—if—if that’s okay with you—“

Her laugh is high, like pealing bells, and it makes him smile to hear it. “How you manage to switch between those two will always astound me. No wonder no one else ever figured out you had magic.”

“Excuse you, I did a perfectly good job at hiding my magic.”

“Gaius used to scream about it with the door open, Merlin, that’s not exactly subtle.”

“How is that my fault?”

She giggles and oh, is this what it’s like to have a sister?

Their laughter ends and Morgana crosses her arms, head bowed as she thinks. Merlin lets his magic flutter around the room, cleaning up, until she raises her head again.

“Do you think Uther can change?”

Merlin sighs. “I don’t know. But I do know we can change the minds of everyone else.”

“Starting with Arthur, I presume?”

“Arthur. The knights. Most of the council. The servants.”

“Got a plan for this, do you?”

“…not really good at plans.”

“Well, no, not if most of them involve poisoning sisters.”

“Hey!”

Morgana laughs again, then her smile softens and she rushes forward to wrap her arms around Merlin.

“Your magic feels warm,” she mumbles, “not like Morgause’s. Maybe I’ll enjoy being your sister.”

“And Arthur’s?”

“If he can pull his head out of his arse, we’ll see.” She lets him go and walks toward the front of the house.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“To see if we can both pull his head out of his arse, it’s so big we’ll need the two of us.”

“Right now?”

“Unless you think I should wait?” There it is. The tiniest hint of vulnerability in the way her voice wobbles at the end.

A question of whether Morgana would actually be welcomed back into Camelot, a question of whether Arthur would want her back. A question of how true this fantasy really is.

Merlin straightens. “No,” he says firmly, “let’s just hope the two of us can do it together.”

——————————————

Arthur never thought he’d see his sister again.

But the instant Morgana walks into his chambers, looking as if she’d never left, she barely has time to open her mouth to deliver a snappy remark before he’s rushing across the room and wrapping her in a hug so fierce it makes Merlin laugh.

Morgana laughs at him with some incredibly clever quip but he isn’t listening. He’s too busy hugging his sister. Who’s finally home, who’s finally here.

“…oh, alright, you big softy,” she mumbles, wrapping her arms around him too, “there. Are you happy now?”

“‘Gana.”

“Yes, that’s me. Is your head alright? Merlin, what did you do to him?”

“He’s happy to see his sister, Morgana.”

She sighs dramatically. “Oh, don’t both of you go all sappy on me.”

Arthur just pulls her closer, burying his nose in her neck. “‘Gana.”

There’s a pause. Then: “Oh, Arthur, I missed you too.”

It’s too much. He sticks out his arm and grabs Merlin’s tunic, yanking him closer. Merlin makes a noise of surprise as Arthur bundles them both into the hug. Morgana makes a slightly affronted gesture as she makes room for the two of them, pulling her hair out of the way as Arthur buries his nose between their shoulders.

“I certainly don’t remember him being this clingy, are you sure this is the same Arthur?”

“His head’s certainly big enough.”

“Well, yes, but that’s not exactly the most reliable thing to go on. He’s always been utterly obnoxious.”

“Don’t have to tell me.”

And they’re bickering like siblings and it’s right and it feels right and their magic is here now and he can feel both of them and it’s warm and it makes his chest tingle and—and—

“Oh, oh dear,” he hears Morgana murmur, “Arthur, are you—are you crying?”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, Arthur, it’s okay.”

“Come, let’s sit down, if you fall over you’ll take the two of us with you.”

“Just try and breathe, it’s okay, we’re not going anywhere.”

Arthur can’t bear to let them go. Not even for an instant. Morgana stays with him, her arms wound tightly around his neck, her fingers scratching lightly through his hair. Merlin sits at his back, his chest warm.

“Come now, you silly man,” Morgana says, trying to keep the tears out of her own voice, “there’s no use crying over this. No man is worth your tears, remember?”

“You’re not a man,” he mumbles, “you’re my sis’er.”

“He’s got a point.”

Morgana sighs. “Oh, Arthur…”

He registers how long’s been crying only when he feels his head start to ring from how stuffy his nose feels. He hooks his chin over Morgana’s shoulder.

“Go on.”

“What?”

“Go on,” he mumbles, “tease me. I know you want to.”

“…I’m not going to tease you, Arthur.”

“Really? All this material and you won’t?”

“Not today,” she murmurs, sounding a little hoarse herself, “not—not today.”

She holds him tighter.

“Not when I’ve just learned I have two brothers.”

He can live with that.

She does tease him later, when he says that he hasn’t missed her at all—a blatant lie, that, and they all know it—or that he’s always been a model of a knight. Of course, she doesn’t have to train with him alone, anymore, she has her pick of the knights. And Merlin.

Because Morgana has magic.

Merlin has magic. Is magic, if the stories are to be believed. And Morgana has always been a quick study.

So sometimes, Arthur will just…watch them. But it’s always that. Just watching.

Merlin is the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth. Morgana is a High Priestess of the Old Religion.

What is Arthur?

“You’re pouting, Princess.”

Arthur barely flinches as Gwaine plops down beside him. He does raise an eyebrow as he feels the rest of the knights sit down around him.

“I’m not pouting, Gwaine.”

“Sure you are.” He flicks Arthur’s arm. “You’re pouting.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Arthur sighs. “And what is it you think I’m pouting over?”

“The fact that you now have to share Merlin with Morgana.”

“That’s not—“

“You’re bright red, Princess, you know I’m right.”

“Enough.”

Lancelot lays a hand on Gwaine’s arm. Gwaine hushes. Percival glances around to make sure there aren’t any other knights near and nods.

“What’s troubling you,” Lancelot asks quietly, “and how can we help?”

“There’s nothing you can do.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Elyan sits up a little more. “There’s always something we can do.”

“Not with this,” Arthur mumbles, still watching the two magic users train, “not with this.”

Leon follows his gaze. “Impressive, aren’t they?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you wish you had magic too?”

Damn you, Leon. Damn you.

“…no.”

Leon chuckles softly. “Come now, sire, no need to lie to us.”

“I just—“ Arthur sighs, scrubbing his face with his hands. “It’s fine.”

Leon lays a hand on his shoulder.

“…they’re both…incredible—don’t tell them I said that,” Arthur says sharply.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Gwaine lies.

Arthur sighs again. “I just…I know I was born of magic, but…”

“You don’t have any,” Leon guesses, “not like they do.”

He shakes his head.

“Eh, you don’t need it,” Gwaine says, leaning up against Arthur’s side, “you’re plenty fine without it.”

Arthur’s head whips around to stare at him in shock. Gwaine raises an eyebrow.

“What? You are.”

“Since when do you give me compliments?”

Gwaine shrugs. “’S not about compliments, it’s about the truth. You’re able to do a shit load of things perfectly fine on your own, you don’t need to have magic for it.”

“He’s right, sire,” Lancelot adds, “your skills are a testament to you, not to whatever magic brought you into this world.”

“I’d follow you with or without magic.” Percival stands tall. “Just so happens you don’t have it. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”

“You’re our commander,” Elyan agrees, “that’s that.”

Leon’s hand on his shoulder rubs soft circles, brushing away his protests. He’s not sure if he believes them entirely, not just yet, but maybe…

Maybe one day he will. After all, he thinks with a smile, he’s got some people to help him with that.

He never thought he’d see his sister again.

——————————————

“Mum?”

Hunith turns around and smiles.

“Merlin, come here.”

Merlin rushes forward, wrapping his arms around her in a warm hug.

“Why didn’t you send word you were coming,” she scolds gently, “I would’ve gotten everything ready.”

“I wanted to surprise you!”

“Well, I am surprised. Sit, sit, tell me everything.”

Her son sits, idly toying with his hands. She frowns.

“What’s the matter?”

“I, um…I have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“Where…where am I from?”

Oh.

Oh.

Hunith smiles and tells him the story. Tells him of how Balinor arrived one night, a little babe clutched in his arms. How he told her how the queen had two children, one that had to be kept safe away from Camelot. How his magic had reached out to her once she held him, wrapped around them as he fell asleep against her breast.

Merlin listens, tears in his eyes, as she tells him that she loved him from the moment she saw him, that he would always have a home here.

“You’re my mum,” he mumbles, wiping away tears, “and I—you’re always gonna be my mum.”

“Oh, Merlin, come here—“

She holds her son in her arms and thanks the magic of the world that gave him to her.

——————————————

Uther responds about as well as you’d expect.

As in, not at all.

At least, not until he realizes that there are three children who are about to make sure he does what he promised Ygraine he would, and if he doesn’t, they’ll do it for him.

He tries to deny having another son, one that was raised as a peasant, no less, only for Arthur to stand up in court and publicly acknowledge Merlin as his brother.

He tries to deny that Morgana is his daughter, only for Morgana to stand tall and proud by Arthur’s side as they declare their intent to rule as brother and sister.

He tries to deny that not one but two of his children have magic, only for Arthur to open talks with the druids by using his brother and sister with magic as ambassadors.

He tries.

He fails.

He wants to think that he still has his loyal knights, but Gwaine and Percival decide that they’re Merlin’s bodyguards, and Leon and Lancelot won’t leave Arthur’s side. Morgana doesn’t need her own bodyguards, but Elyan and Gwen are never far from her.

He wants to think he still has the support of the Council, but Gaius had stood and given a speech about being so happy to see Ygraine’s children home again and his words had been frozen before he could say anything.

He wants to think he’s still the king. But everyone is starting to look to Arthur, to Morgana, not to him.

Once, and only once, he considers getting rid of the boy.

When he wakes from a terrible nightmare of drowned children, burned houses, and Ygraine’s immortal disappointment, he doesn’t think of it again.

Uther isn’t dragged kicking and screaming from his throne, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t many who’d love to if he gave them the opportunity.

He’s not worth lingering on.

[suchalonelysunflower]

“One of the Boys” (M.C)

Pairings: Michael Clifford X Reader

Summary: College!AU ~ Friends to Lovers. You and Michael are best friends since forever, that’s why you feel the need to hide your crush on him. But when he makes a hurtful comment, you are determined to prove him wrong. Could that be enough to make him love you?

Warnings: The reader uses she/her pronouns, I’m sorry if I make anyone uncomfortable with that, it was not my intention. Angst with fluffy parts. Language, low self esteem issues, cheating (a little bit, it depends on how you view it) one sexual reference and some grammar and syntax errors (English it’s not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 5.5K

Author’s Note: My first Michael Fic! I waited so long and it’s finally here ✨ This is slyghtly based on a personal experience (mine didn’t have this ending) I hope you like it! Feedback, reblogs and comments are always welcomed, I love to hear from you guys 💕 You can read my other works HERE 🦋

You had to admit it, you weren’t exactly a very ‘feminine’ girl. But that the hell was wrong with that? Yes, you preferred leggings and big hoodies over skirts and tight dresses. Yes, you skateboarded everyday to school and hanged out with boys all the time, drinking beers instead of fancy little cocktails. Yes, you never really cared about boy bands or artists like Justin Bieber or Drake. And yes, you would rather die than have high heels on for more than 2 hours straight. But that’s just who you are, how you’ve always been. His comment shouldn’t have hurt that much, but why are you crying about it?

You have been roomates with Michael since you two started college. You always joked about how you were going to live together someday and have a fridge full of junk food and soda. Well, now you do (except from the junk food part, that proved to be an awful experience)

To be honest, you didn’t have that many friends besides him and your other four knuckleheads you know and love from your early school days. Luke was the youngest of all of you, and maybe that’s why everybody thought he was the innocent one (even though he was the mastermind of almost every prank you ever pulled) Calum was the shy one, as people would put it, but just get to know him a little bit and you wouldn’t be able to shut him up. Ashton is supposedly the mature one, but his quick-witted mind and his inability of staying put in a place gives him the same amount of energy as a five year old. And then there was Michael, your best friend, there isn’t a time in your life where Michael wasn’t by your side, weather it was for pulling a prank on someone, skipping school or just playing video games in his basement, he was always there. So moving in together was a no brainer.

The friendship consisted on having the same level of confidence as an old married couple, trusting each other with everything, nothing being off limits, well, except for one thing…

You and Michael were friends and nothing more. That was clear for both of you. For years you both ignored the teasing and assumptions of you guys being a couple. Just the idea of it seeming so absurd to even imagine. But there’s a fine line between love and friendship.

Over the last few years, you began to think that the idea of being Michael’s girlfriend didn’t sound so bad after all. It was impossible to pin the pivotal point of that thought, but somehow somewhere along the road, you started to feel more flustered every time he leaned into a hug, felt butterflies in your stomach with each look he speared your way or how he said your name with such a caring tone. You found yourself thinking of him more often than not, especially on how his arms would look around you waist, how it will feel to be loved by him, to kiss him…

But you couldn’t think like that, not about your best friend. So it’s better to keep it hidden in the deepest part of your soul, praying to whoever’s above that it will go away soon, but when does that ever work?

Maybe that’s why his comment hurt so bad.

It was a lazy Monday, you didn’t have to work today and that meant you could spend your afternoon beating Michael’s ass in video games. But you couldn’t concentrate with your thoughts wandering over the man who owns your heart. It was the third time you let him win in Mario Kart when he caught on your mood.

“You really suck today, huh?” Michael asked as he watches Mario celebrate yet another victory.

“Or maybe you’re finally getting good” You replied, resting your head lazily in one hand, not taking your eyes from the screen.

Michael furrowed his brows, worrying as he heard a light sigh come out of your lips “Hey, are you okay?” He asked, but you don’t seem to hear him, so he accommodates himself on the couch in order to look at you properly and puts a hand on your leg, just right above the knee “Y/N?”

“Huh?” You say, finally lifting your gaze in order to meet his and oh, how you wish you didn’t. Lost in the sea of those green eyes that consumed every thought of your mind, you felt yourself blushing under him and trying very hard not to think on his hand touching your thigh “What? No, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Liar. You let me win, that never happens. Tell me, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong”

“Y/N,”

“Nothing’s wrong, Michael. I swear”

His eyes scanned you, knowing damn well something was up.

“Well,” He said, patting your leg, softly “If you’re not gonna tell me… Then I will make you”

Before you could even comprehend what he meant by that, he was already leaning over your figure with a devilish grin as his hands traveled to your sides and started tickling you mercilessly.

Tears formed in the corner of your eyes as you couldn’t contain the laughter that came over you. Begging him to stop, you tried to escape his grip, but it wasn’t the first time this had happened and you know this is a fight you can’t. Michael joined in laughter as he came closer to you, pinning you under him on the sofa.

But suddenly, his movements stop as he becomes very aware of the position you’re in. You give one last laugh before turning to face him, only to find him already staring at you. You shudder under his gaze as you realize the way his legs are intertwined with yours, wondering if it’s his cellphone on the pocket of his shorts or something else is brushing up against your lower body.

Michael’s eyes never leave yours as your breath becomes even. And he couldn’t help but notice the way that your lips parted slightly, almost inviting him for a taste.

“Hey, dude, sorry to bother you but.. Oh shit, you’re fucking on the couch?” A voice came through the door, making you push Michael onto the floor before getting caught in that position. Raising your head over the sofa, you were met by Ashton and Luke’s grin disappearing from their faces as your face came to view “Oh, it’s just Y/N. WAIT, Were you fucking Y/N?!”

Rolling your eyes and giving them the middle finger, you stand up from the couch, regretting ever giving them a key in the first place, and went straight to the bathroom, trying to hide the red of your cheeks.

But just before you could close the door, you heard Michael say “What are you talking about? It Y/N! She’s practically one of the boys!”

He didn’t mean to hurt you. He had good intentions with that comment, of course he did. But you couldn’t stop overthinking it, crying at the thought of you being so unattractive in his eyes.

“So he wants a girly girl?” You thought, already planning a strategy “I’ll show him, then”

That’s how it started. You began to wear the dresses that were long forgotten on your wardrobe, you started using makeup and styling your hair in something other than a messy bun.

It was confusing at first and not at all what you were used to, but there was a new energy surrounding you, a confident one. You were going to show Michael that you could be feminine, maybe that way he’ll notice you in a ‘more than just a friend’ kinda way.

The first time the boys saw you with your new look they were all sharing breakfast in your kitchen. With your apartment being closer to campus they might as well move in.

“Good morning, guys” You said cheerfully, not looking at anyone in particular.

They all stared at you, looking at you up and down. And just before you could reach the cereal box, the questions started coming.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Y/N why are you dressed like a girl? IS THAT MAKE UP?”

“Do you have a date? It’s 8 am on a Tuesday! Who are they? Vampires?”

“Who are you and what did you do to our Y/N?”

“Is the simulation broken?”

“Shhh” You said, raising the palm of your hand as you poured cereal in a bowl “It’s too damn early for any of you to do that much noise and I haven’t had my coffee yet” As in que, Ashton passed you your usual mug “Thank you, and to answer some of your inquiries. 1) Nothing’s going on, Calum. 2) I happen to be a girl, Luke. Thank you for noticing. 3) I do not have a date, nor I should use that as an excuse to put on some nice clothes. I just,, felt like it” You took a long sip from the hot beverage “The simulation broke down a long time ago and I’m still me. I’m just wearing different clothes, that’s all. Right, Mikey?”

Michael choked with his toast, coughing as he tried to gain some composure “Yeah, you look… great” He said with a shy smile, and he was right. The others joined in with the compliments, hyping and teasing you about how he will have to be more protective of you because you will sure bring home some hot dates looking like that.

It’s been a couple of weeks since that morning and everyday Michael complimented you. You’d be lying if you say that every word he says doesn’t fill your heart with butterflies. Maybe there’s a possibility that he feels the same way.

It was a pretty uneventful evening in the little coffee shop where you worked. You didn’t have many clients today, so the dim lights and the sweet voice of Hozier that blasted through the speakers allowed you to daydream. Michael’s face popped out in your mind, smiling as you remembered the way that he looked at you this morning. Finally proving that you were more than just “One of the boys”

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the bell chime when the door opened, only waking up when you saw those same eyes that had you smiling just a minute ago standing in front of you, staring at you as well.

“Hey Y/N! How’s it going?” He asked, smiling at you.

“Nothing much” You shrug “Just the same amount of pain and tiredness of the average college experience” Michael rolled his eyes at your sarcasm. That’s when a giggle caught your attention.

The most beautiful woman you ever laid your eyes on was standing next to Michael. She had the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen and her wavy hair complemented her face like an angel. She sure didn’t seem real, how did you not notice her when she entered? Were you really that busy focusing on Michael?

“I can totally relate to that” The girl said with a smile, god even her smile was perfect.

“Y/N, this is Veronica. Veronica, Y/N” Michael introduced.

You smiled politely at her and she did the same “Oh, the famous Y/N! I heard a lot about you, I can’t wait to get to know you better”

Um, what? Michael has been talking about you? To her? You couldn’t tell if it was good or a bad sign.

“Really? Well, don’t believe anything he says. Unless they are good things, then he’s right”

“Okay! Thank you, Y/N” He interrupted, mocking annoyance “I’ll take my usual please, darling. And she will have…”

“Just a mocha, please”

You nodded “Coming right up” You smiled at her as she walked to a table. Michael leaned over the counter and whispered.

“Could you do one of those drawing people do in the coffee? She will love that. Thanks.” He gave you a kiss on the cheek and walked away, sitting close to Veronica in one of the booths just before he could notice the way your cheeks turned to a much brighter red.

An hour passes. Then two. Then two and a half. And you were standing there, acting as a witness of their chemistry. You cursed yourself as your eyes drifted towards them, watching them laugh and talk about life. It was clear that Michael was enchanted by her, moving closer and closer every time, and you could tell the feeling was mutual as she laid her delicate hand on his.

Of course Michael would go for the pretty girls. Veronica was gorgeous, you couldn’t pinpoint a single defect on that girl, not even with a magnifying glass and you hated that. You hated the fact that he brought her here, you hated the fact that you have to work while his love story unfolds like a Taylor Swift song, you hated that it you weren’t the one sitting next to him, talking about dreams and how everything just collides perfectly within the universe. But that’s not your story.

“Earth calling Y/N?” A voice calls in front of you “Hello?”

You blink a few times and stare at the tall blond man waving his hand in front of your face “Sorry, Luke. Didn’t see you there” You excuse yourself “What can I get for you?”

“The usual, but this time with at least four more shots of espresso. I have to put an all nighter again cause I have that stupid presentation and you are not listening to me again”

“Sorry, what? Four shots of espresso, yeah.” Your gaze averted his “Anything else?”

“Okay, what’s going on?” Luke followed where your eyes led and soon he was, too, staring at the reason of your distraction “Oh”

Out of the four of them, Luke was the only one who knew about your feelings for Michael. He was always very supportive and didn’t pressure you into confessing right away, knowing it must be hard for you. So he can’t imagine what is going on inside your head right now, watching the man you love on a date.

“He didn’t tell me he had a date” You told him.

“He mentioned this morning” Luke added “Said he met her at one of his classes and that she seemed cool. So he asked her out. He never told us he would bring her here “You clenched your jaw, trying to keep the tears at bay. Luke noticed that “I’m sorry, love. I thought he told you about it”

“She is gorgeous, Luke”

“She’s not you, though” You scoffed.

“Exactly”

“Y/N…”

“I’m fine,” You lied “Really, I’m okay. It was a silly crush anyway. And plus, look how happy he looks”

And it was true. Michael did look very happy chatting and flirting with Veronica. His smile reaching his eyes as she spoke and laugh at all his jokes. He truly must like her, and you… Well, some people are just meant to be the side character of another person’s story.

Luke let out a sigh, knowing well enough to assume you are just going to bury your feelings like you always do “He will soon realize what he’s missing”

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

Well, six months passed and he still hasn’t realized. It’s been six month since that fateful evening where you got your heart broken by the man you love. It’s been six months since Veronica has been a constant part of your daily life, sleeping over, joining on movie nights and replaced your spot next to your best friend. It’s been six months of dressing more ‘girly’, wearing make-up and doing your nails, all of it trying to call Michael’s attention, to make you look more like Veronica, more like someone you are not. And all of that for what? You still ended up crying yourself to sleep almost every night.

Luke has been there for you all this time, letting you crash in his place whenever she came over and trying to distract you from the heartache by making jokes or goofing around, sometimes even letting you stay the night just to talk or cry or whatever you needed.

Tonight, however, it was a special night. Michael texted you saying that he finally found the movie you were dying to see for years! It was a special straight to dvd movie with Betty White that you remember it being your favorite growing up but you could never find it anywhere. And to say that you were ecstatic when Michael suggested a movie night for the two of you, would be an understatement.

You got the popcorn ready, ordered some pizzas and the ice cream was in the freezer. It was the first time in months that you would have time alone with Michael and, honestly, you missed him like crazy. Yes, you know he lives there, but it’s been a while since you guys actually talked or shared a good laugh together. Putting your feelings towards him aside, you just missed your best friend.

Suddenly, the bell rang. It wasn’t uncommon for Michael to forget his keys, so you weren’t really surprised.

“How many times do I have to tell you that we bought you that keychain for a reason and-“ But it wasn’t Michael standing at the door “Veronica.. I thought you were Michael”

The girl smiled, (really, not even a chip tooth?) “Yeah, he told me he’ll be a little late and that I should just go ahead” She said as she made her way into the apartment.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I love movie night!”

He invited her. It was a moment for the two of you and he invited her.

You couldn’t be mad, could you? She’s his girlfriend, after all. She could be here and he had every right to invite her, but… But it still hurt. You thought you’d be spending the evening with your best friend, he said you would. It was a special movie for the both of you, why invite her?

“Can I be honest with you, Y/N?” Veronica said, pulling you away from your mind.

“Uh, sure”

“I have to admit, I was really intimidated by you”

“By me? Why?”

“Well, when Michael talked about you I always thought I had to compete for his attention. It was always Y/N this, Y/N that… He assured me that you were just friends, but I didn’t believe him until I met you. I love that he has a friend like you. You really mean a lot to him so, thank you”

You nodded and muttered a “no problem”

She was right, you were just a friend of Michael’s. Why did you ever think you could be more? Especially with someone like her in his life? It was foolish, it was crazy. He would never look at you the same so, why keep trying?

“So, what are we watching?”

“Oh, um… I don’t know. I’m not staying” You said, hiding the pain in your voice.

“But Michael told me-“

“I’m spending the night at Luke’s today. I totally forgot”

You rushed out of the living room and went straight to your room, letting the tears fall as you started packing for a few days. You needed to get away as soon as possible. You couldn’t handle staying here at the moment, it hurt too much.

Just as you were packing the last pieces of clothing, you heard Michael opening the front door. And surely, a few moments later he was pushing yours open.

“What do you mean you’re not staying tonight?” He barged in.

Your back was facing him, so you couldn’t see him, you didn’t want to see him, but he sounded hurt. Quickly, you wiped your tears with the back of the hand and tried to muttered something close to an unbothered tone.

“I’m going to Luke’s”

“You always go to Luke’s, are you two a thing or something? Because you seem to live there more than here”

You let out a small laugh, was he really that dense?

“There’s nothing going on between me and Luke-“

“Then why are you always in his place?”

“It’s none of your business”

“Well, Y/N it is. It is because I wanted you to spend the night because we rarely see each other anymore and now you’re ditching me again!”

He raised his voice a bit, clearly frustrated and confused. That alone made your anger take the best of you.

“Oh please, as if you really want me here”

Michael frowned “What does that suppose to mean?”

“Why did you invite her?”

“Veronica? She’s my girlfriend, I though-“

“I know that she’s your girlfriend, I get it. It’s just-“ You took a deep breath, trying not to cry or scream or both “It’s just that tonight was special, and I wanted to share that with my best friend. Only with my best friend. But I feel like everytime we try to do something together she’s always there and-“

“You don’t like her?”

“What? No, that’s the worst part. I actually think she’s great” You turned around and closed your bag, ready to leave “Michael I’m not going start a fight, I’m going to stay with Luke for a while. Don’t wait up”

You made your way out of the room, but before you could reach the door Michael’s hand grabbed you by the arm, making you stop.

“Michael” You warned “Let me go”

“No, wait. What do you mean with ‘that’s the worst part’?”

“I’m not having this conversation right now.”

“Yes, you are” Michael made you turn around. You were now looking at him in the eyes, he seemed hurt but you,, oh, you were in pain “Y/N, what is going on? You’ve been avoiding me lately, you’re not staying home, you don’t talk to me anymore, you’re dressing differently and sneaking out everytime I’m here. Is it because of Veronica?” You shook your head, slightly “Then what is it? Why are you pulling away from me?”

“Because it’s too damn hard!” You say looking away from him, unable to contain the tears any longer.

Michael’s eyes winded at your answer. His lips parted in surprise at your sudden outburst, wanting nothing more than to hold you but knowing you won’t let him.

“What?”

“You don’t get it, do you? No, you never did” You cry silent tears as your voice comes barely above a whisper “I can’t stay here because it hurts. Everytime I’m here she’s here too, like a reminder of everything I’m not. And I’ve tried-“ you choke “I tried to look more pretty, to be more ‘girly’ and feminine, losing myself every day. Hoping that maybe you’ll notice”

“Notice what?” Michael said softly.

You let out a breath.

“That I’m in love with you, you idiot”

Michael was taken aback by your answer, but he still wasn’t letting go of your arm. You love him? That’s what’s this all about?

“But I know you don’t feel the same. You never did and you never will. After all, I’m just Y/N. Just ‘one of the boys’ am I not?” He didn’t respond “It’s okay, I came to terms with that, I wouldn’t expect you to say something anyways” You released yourself from his grip and grabbed the last bag that laid on your bed “I’ll stay with Luke tonight and I’ll pick up my stuff in a few days”

Michael shook his head, as if he just realized what you just said “Wait, you’re moving?”

“What do you want me to do, Michael? Stay here? Pretend that things will be the same after this?! Go and have a movie night with your girlfriend and say that everything’s okay when I’m tearing myself apart in front of you?” You ask out of anger “I can’t do that, Michael. I need time”

“Y/N-“

“Why do you care anyways? I’m not a main character in your life. I’m not the type of girl you would fall for, or that you would consider feminine enough. I’m not pretty enough or funny enough and I’m tired of that. I’m tired of being an afterthought”

You turned around, already reaching for the doorknob when Michael’s hand wrapped around your waist, twisting you so your back was pressed against the door and your eyes were on him.

“Y/N, you were never an afterthought” He breathed close to you.

“Michael, what are yo-“

“Stay, please” But before you could say anything else, you felt his lips on yours.

The kiss was everything you dreamed it would be. Fast, rough and passionate. His hands traveled down your spine as he deepened the kiss, getting more needy by the second. Your hands flew to his neck, bringing him even closer, wanting to feel every part of him. You wanted to let yourself go, to fill these long needed desire. But you couldn’t forget about the girl waiting in the living room.

With all the strength you could manage, you pushed Michael away from you as the tears came flooding down again.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” You spat at him in anger “You can’t do that to me. You can’t just kiss me and expect to fix everything. Who do you think I am?” You could tell he was trying to say something, but you were not in the mood to listen “I won’t let you do this to me. I won’t let you do this to her. I’m leaving, Michael. Get your shit together”

And with that, you ran through the door and didn’t look back.

A few hours later, you were settled in with Luke in his apartment. When you arrived, you asked him to please not say anything, that you weren’t ready to talk just yet. He just nodded and let you in.

You cried on his shoulders for what it felt like an eternity. Your head was pounding and your voice was hoarse. You’ve never felt so heartbroken before.

“C-can I stay here for a while? Until I find my own place?” You asked him.

“Of course, darling” Luke said, kissing your head “Take all the time you need”

You stayed like that for a while. He comforting you through your silent tears until you fell asleep.

A week passes by and you are not feeling any better. You haven’t been sleeping well and you’re barely eating despite Luke’s pleads. Ashton and Calum showed up one day to check up on you, but you still refused to talk about it. Maybe you were embarrassed, maybe the memory of that kiss was too recent, too painful to talk about. Maybe you just didn’t know how.

One night you fell asleep on the living room, the TV working as the background noise that drowned your thoughts. You were peacefully dreaming for the first time in days when the sound of muffled voices woke you up. You were still laying in the sofa, but Luke was nowhere in sight. That’s until you heard him talk.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea”

“Please, I need to talk to her” the other man pleaded.

Michael was standing at the door. He looked like a complete wreck. His hair was undone and a bit greasy from ruffling it with his fingers way too much, his eyes were bloodshot and glossy, still fighting to contain the tears in front of his friend.

“Look, man. I love you, but she doesn’t need this right now and-“

“Let him in, Luke”

The two tall men turned towards you. You were standing behind the sofa, your eyes never leaving Michael’s. Luke simply nodded and headed to his room, giving you the privacy you needed.

“I’ll be there if you need me” He said to you.

You muttered a small ‘Thank you’ to him before fixing your gaze upon Michael. He was still frozen by the door, unsure on how to say what he has to say.

Letting out a breath, you decided to break the ice “Michael-“

“I broke up with her” He said in one breath.

“You what?!”

“The night you left,,, I-I broke up with her because I couldn’t keep lying to myself anymore”

“What do you mean?”

He hesitantly took a step closer to you, afraid that he was overstepping again.

“All this time, for years, I’ve been avoiding my own feelings. Tucked them away at the farthest corner in my closet, hoping that they’ll fade soon. I couldn’t cope with them, I was too afraid to.

‘“I told myself that I was being foolish, immature and downright stupid for thinking that the girl I love would love me back. How could she? She was beautiful, shared my sense of humor, my interests and she was extremely cool. I told myself that a girl like that could never want me. But, strangely, she did, as a friend. And I was content with that, at least I would have her be part of my life.

‘“So I hid my feelings until I couldn’t see them, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t feel them. And every day I would remind myself that she was my friend and I was beyond lucky for that. I kept letting myself down on a daily basis, trying to keep the thoughts away, hoping that one day I could believe them. But I never thought of the consequences my actions had towards the girl.

‘“Y/N, when you left I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Like a vital part of me was missing and you took it away with you. And I deserved it, I truly did. Y/N, I was an asshole”

“Michael,”

“No, I was. Hearing you say those things about yourself, like you were broken and needed to be fixed, it broke my heart, darling” His voice broke at the end, fighting helplessly to contain the tears that were burning behind his eyes “I- I never meant for you to think that I didn’t love you for who you were. That you needed to change in order to get me to like you. You shouldn’t change for anyone, love, you are absolutely perfect the way you are. You always have been and always will be.

‘“Y/N, you were never just ‘one of the boys’, you are my best friend, my soulmate and the best thing that has ever happened to me by far. I’ve always known that, but I was just too much of a coward to let it show and I’m sorry.

‘“When you told me you loved me, god. Y/N, I’ve never felt so happy and confused at the same time! I couldn’t fanthom the thought of you loving me, it seemed surreal after so many years of telling myself that it was impossible, almost like a cruel joke. But you did, and I could tell by your eyes that it was true, and I hated myself for that. I hated the fact that I was hurting you instead of loving you like I wanted to. I hated the fact that you felt like you had to leave in order for you to fix what I broke. I hated that I ruined our first kiss by a stupid impulse because you didn’t deserve that. You deserve the world and I was so scared of the fact that I might’ve lost the chance to be able to give it to you.

‘“ I broke up with her the night you left. It wasn’t fair to you, to her or to me to keep denying my feelings any longer. And I know that I don’t deserve it, but I’m standing here to ask you for forgiveness. I’m sorry that I made you feel less than you are. I’m sorry that I broke your heart. I’m sorry that I wasn’t brave enough to tell you this the moment you walked out the door that night. I will keep apologizing for the rest of my life if necessary, Y/N. But I just- I just don’t want to lose you”

You were standing in front of him. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you took in everything he said to you.

He loved you.

He loves you.

And you love him.

Michael was staring at his feet, too afraid to look up and see the disappointment in your face. To scared to lose you and everything you meant to him. Maybe coming here was a mistake, maybe you don’t want to know anything about him anymore. And he deserved that.

“Well,” You finally say, swallowing the lump in your throat “You still owe me that movie night”

His eyes light up as he saw you smiling at him. He returned it by grabbing you by the waist and pulling you closer to him. Leaning so your lips could met again.

Smiling into the kiss, you swore that you will never let go of the other again.

[sunshinejins]

if i was dying on my knees (you’d be the one to rescue me)

(title from brother by kodaline)

so, hi!  jatp has reignited my desire to write again and this time i think i might actually finish a whole fic.  so uh, here it is :) please let me know if you like it, I’ll hopefully update asap, but i’m in uni so asap may be in like two weeks.  unless people really like it.  then, probably sooner lmao.

pairing: julie molina x luke patterson

fandom: julie and the phantoms

warnings: death bc rose, and i swear once but other than that i think nothing else?

Julie didn’t want to be frustrated, she really didn’t.  In fact, she wanted to be sad, mourning, depressed, or literally anything other than slightly pissed off all the time.  It’s incredibly exhausting to be angry all the time, and she felt like being sad would at least give her blood a break from simmering.

But her mom died.  And apparently her body only knows how to process grief by developing a rather annoying tendency to be irritated constantly.

She tries to forget it though.  Instead of wallowing in the negative feelings that cloud her family in the months following Rose Molina’s death, she throws herself into distractions.  She gets a job at a coffee shop near the USC campus and puts almost all her effort into becoming a top employee.  Her grades don’t drop because thankfully her professors seemed to all inherently understand that she just couldn’t sing anymore.  Like at all.

The world kept spinning.  Julie could only hope to hold on.

That’s how she ended up, six months later, complaining over a milk frother about her very well-intentioned best friend to the only person she knew would listen.

“Flynn just doesn’t understand,” Julie moans, shutting off the machine and dumping the contents unceremoniously into a to-go cup.  Her coworker, Allison, raises an eyebrow and swipes a rag at the milk spill that pools under the cup.

“Did she try to get you to sing again?”

“Surprise karaoke night with her girlfriend and a couple kids from class.  Her intentions were pure though so I don’t even know why I’m upset.” Julie shoves a lid onto the cup and slides it across the counter to a pre-occupied businessman who doesn’t notice the extra milk soaked into the bottom.  Allison nods thoughtfully and starts dumping coffee beans into the espresso machine.  Julie watches her with slight awe.  Allison was one of those people that terrified Julie when she met her; everything about her felt polished and put together down to the blunt cut of her pale blonde hair and the curve of her smirk when she smiled.  Soon enough, Julie discovered that she was as warm as any of her other friends, but it had taken a lot of closing shifts and smoothie runs to come to that conclusion.

Allison sets down the bag of coffee beans and gives Julie one of her solemn looks; it’s the sort of look where Julie thinks Allison could probably read her mind if she tried hard enough.

“Maybe they’re going about it wrong.  You haven’t been around music properly in what?  A year?  What if you just need to sit and listen to music again to just get you used to the environment?” Julie thinks for a moment.  Allison raises a fair point, and it’s the complete opposite tactic that everyone else has been trying, which has been to shove music in front of her to sing and give her expectant and hopeful looks. It’s a trial run.  Something casual.

“Where would I go?” Allison smiles a bit and passes Julie a container of oat milk to put away.

“There’s a bar off Sunset that’s hosting an open mic tonight.  Very relaxed and casual vibes.  I could pick you up from your apartment and take you.  We haven’t hung out since that movie night a while ago.”  Julie hesitates.  It’s not that she’s opposed to spending a night with Allison, but a small part of her feels like she’s cheating on her current circle of emotional support humans by agreeing to go. Not that her dad or Carlos or Tia would mind, but Flynn would possibly take offence and that alone stalled Julie for longer than she realized. Allison clocks the look on her face and amends the statement.

“Flynn is obviously welcome too.”

A mind reader, Julie swears. 

“Hell yeah. Let’s do this.”

***

Julie’s feeling significantly less optimistic when Allison’s car has been driven away by the valet and herself, Flynn, and Allison are all standing in line outside the club. Julie can feel the bass of the songs playing more than she can hear them, but the proximity of music is enough to make her palms sweat. Other than the music the coffee shop plays and the strains of country she hears through Carlos’ wall, Julie hasn’t heard proper music since Tia Victoria sang “Amazing Grace” for her mother’s funeral. Flynn notices her nervous look. 

“Chill, Jules. It’s all very chill. We’re just gonna listen to a couple bands.” 

“Flynn’s right. And if at any point you want to bail, we can go get soft pretzels.” 

“But we should try and stay for the whole thing!”

“However, we’re also going to respect you if you can’t do that,” Allison punctuates this sentence with a meaningful eyebrow raise and Flynn nods vigorously. Julie swallows and tries to mimic the courage she had a few hours ago.  The bartender scrutinizes their IDs for a moment before allowing them to sweep into the bar and Julie’s jaw nearly drops at the volume of people contained inside.  Nearly every seat is filled, and the standing areas are packed with people all jamming to the band onstage that’s currently playing what Julie has to admit is a pretty kick ass cover of “Somebody Told Me” by The Killers.  

Allison somehow discovers a table near the edge of the bar, and disappears off to get them drinks.  Flynn’s rocking out already, and Julie feels a few of the nerves in her stomach even out as the realization that she doesn’t have to sing sinks into her bones.  Allison was right, unsurprisingly.  If she focuses hard enough, she can even push out the memories of coming to these sorts of open nights with her mom.  Flynn shoots her a large and grateful grin and Julie lets herself smile back.  She’s taking a step.  She’s doing it.

Allison returns as the band switches and a new band begins to play a hyped up cover of “Africa” by Toto.  The three girls lapse into quiet appreciation of the music, with Flynn singing along to every song played, Allison bobbing her head to herself and occasionally letting out a few notes in her vocal range, and Julie just quietly appreciating the fact that she doesn’t feel like throwing up.

It’s all very casual, just like her friends said.

Until it’s not.

As the third band of the night begins their last song, Julie retreats to find the bathroom.  It’s hidden nearly backstage, and she’s just about to make it to the door when she hears the panicked shouts of someone from near the curtain which separates the small backstage from the actual performing area.

“Dude, I cannot believe he bailed on us.”

“Are you really surprised?  Bobby was a piece of shit.”

“Hey, he didn’t use to be!”

“Calm down, Reg.  You know he’s been treating us like garbage ever since that record label thought he had a ‘marketable voice’ or whatever they said.”

“Guys he bailed on us, what are we supposed to do?”

Julie, despite all the “stranger danger” lessons running through her brain, backed up far enough to see into the backstage area.  Three guys stood there, two with a guitar and a bass each and one with drumsticks he was nervously twirling.  The one with the guitar had his face buried in his hands and kept swearing heavily under his breath.  The other two seemed frozen in their own panic as well.  Guitar Player removed his hands from his face and Julie caught a glimpse of worried hazel eyes and dark curls.  Bass Player opened his arms and Guitar Player tumbled into them for a hug while Drum Player rubbed his back.  The three guys looked absolutely wrecked.

Here’s the thing: Julie had an uncontrollable urge to help people.  It’s how she got roped into half of Flynn’s schemes, how she ended up teaching Carlos all of his second grade science curriculum herself, and how she somehow became the unofficial backbone of her family after her mom died.  Seeing three guys utterly wrecked because, presumably, their fourth bandmate had bailed on them?  It activated that uncontrollable urge deep in her stomach.

Here’s another thing: Julie hasn’t played music or sang in six months.  She’s had no desire to, and every time she’s tried, the distinct urge to throw up overtook her.  Tonight was supposed to be the baby step that showed her whether or not music was something she could seriously consider again; whether or not she could feel that itch to perform anymore.

“Hey, do you guys need a fourth?”

She felt the itch.  

The three guys looked up in varying levels of shock.  Drum Player recovered first, and stepped towards her hesitantly, wringing his pink hoodie as he did.

“Um, what?”

“It sounded like someone bailed on you.  I can play.  If you need it.”  Guitar Player recovers next and nearly bounds over to her in barely contained excitement.

“You can play rhythm guitar?”

“No,” the three boys deflate, “I can play piano though.”  Guitar Player tilts his head to the side as though playing a melody through in his head.  He turns back to the other two.

“Bright could fit piano.”

“We never wrote the music for a piano component,” Drum Player wrinkles his nose.

“I did,” Guitar Player admits.  The other two don’t look phased, though Bass Player does raise an eyebrow.  “I was bored!”

“Okay, but we don’t want to put you out,” Drum Player turns back to Julie and she swallows.  

“No, I offered.  Let me see the music.”

“Okay, but you have like ten minutes!” Bass Player finally chips in with a surprisingly cheerful tone.  Guitar Player hands Julie what looks like a piece of notebook paper and her eyes skim the words and notes.  It’s feasible for sure, but she can feel the nerves prickling at her stomach.  Guitar Player leans into her space and she clocks how ridiculously attractive he is up close.  He gives her a smile.

“We alternative verses like this, see?  And I don’t know your range, but we can figure that out on the go.”  Julie gives him a small smile.

“Somewhere between mezzo-soprano and soprano.”

“We can work with that.” Guitar Player seems to vibrate with energy.  “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“No pressure,” Bass Player adds.

“Like seriously, none.  We can just go home and cry,” Drum Player says.  Julie isn’t sure.  She really isn’t.  In fact, she’s pretty sure she should just run away and hope she never sees these guys again.

“I’m sure.”

Well, that’s that.

Guitar Player sends her a smile that looks genuinely like someone has funnelled sunlight into his body and Julie feels the nerves lift for half a second.  Then, they’re called to the stage and all of a sudden she feels like she could puke all over again.  Guitar Player grabs her hand and squeezes it.

“You got this.”

Julie files out with the rest of the band and she’s extremely grateful her friends aren’t sitting in her direct line of sight.  The piano is definitely worn out from use, but her fingers settle naturally on the keys and Julie tries to focus on the budding itch to perform in her stomach rather than the urge to throw up.  She’s supposed to start this song.  This song that she became aware of ten minutes earlier.  She catches Guitar Player’s eye and he nods encouragingly.

She presses down on the keys and opens her mouth. 

Sometimes I think I'm falling down

I wanna cry, I'm calling out

For one more try to feel alive

And when I feel lost and alone

I know that I can make it home

Fight through the dark and find the spark

[samwrights]

Blackout

I am SO sorry this took me so long! With everything going on with me, writing was kind of a struggle, but I had so much fun writing this one. Reader is wild. We love reader. This fic was inspired by all the songs I used to listen to while getting ready to go out in college which include: Blackout by Breathe Carolina, Wild Boy by MGK, Wild for the Night by A$AP Rocky, and Trashwang by Tyler, The Creator so if you wanna get in the mood, I’d put those on.

Warnings: Alcohol (a lot of it), passing mentions of marijuana and nicotine, semi-mutual pining(?) and of course, Language. Also platonic Oikawa & Reader.

Word Count: 5.3k

There was no better feeling than being reunited with all of your best friends at university after a long summer filled with family vacations and a part time job to try to save money while you were away. It was the strange lull between summer and the start of classes that you looked forward to every year in which you still had time to socialize with everyone without the worry of your ever piling assignments or having to commute hours between cities—everyone was gathered in one place.

It was your favorite time of the year and there was no other feeling that could compare.

Not being so drunk that you had every bit of confidence that you could possibly muster pumping through your veins.

Not being so high that your body felt it was moving on it’s own.

Not even learning that the dude you’d been so in love with since the start of university is just as in love with you as you are with him.

But considering you had no idea what the last feeling felt like, you could only hope for the first two to come in at full force tonight.

Tonight was the party of the school year and it was the one thing you looked forward to in the brutal, lingering August days. At the moment, you were fresh out the shower with all of your inhibitions and leg hair down the drain, your hair wrapped in a towel turban as you slathered lotion over your already drying skin. Your speakers are blaring a myriad of different hip-hop artists in your room, drowning out the fact that your roommates were doing the exact same thing in their own spaces. The thought brought a smile to your face considering the almost clashing yet complementary personalities between you and your roommates.

Kiyoko was so incredibly blunt and straightforward. Yachi was so shy, even as she entered university with all of her own friends from Karasuno. Yukie, being the house mom of your apartment, and Kaori too—everyone knew what was happening tonight and everyone was doing their own ritual to get ready for a night they would most likely never remember. Regardless of how similar or how different you all were, this night warranted one communal ritual: roommate check.

As the five of you got ready, each of you would check each other’s make up, outfits, and shoes to make sure there was zero chance of being a social faux-pas. It was a strange, unspoken rule in the apartment that you all made sure each of you left the house being at optimal hotness, but it was an incredible confidence booster, especially if one of you were able to land a sexy, one night stand. It was the goal. Best friends don’t let each other leave the house looking less than their prime.

“What do we think ladies?” You could hear Kaori let herself into the hallway, prompting you to pause Lizzo and open your bedroom door. The ash brunette had her hair down and straight, framing her done up face nicely. Without too much face products on, the former Fukurodani manager allowed her freckles to show through the tinted moisturized, accenting it with a light dusting of blush. Her onyx eyes were left alone, save for winged liner sharp enough to stab any weak man that dared approach her and a few coats of mascara on her top and bottom lashes.

“Approve,” you and Yukie chimed simultaneously. From what you could tell, the other Tokyo native was still in the middle of doing her own make up.

“Looks good!” Yachi chirped, while Kiyoko gave a nod of approval with a soft smile on her supple lips before retreating to her and the former’s shared room. You did the same, carrying on with your own look, absentmindedly lip singing to whatever song popped up on your hype playlist. While you were excited, the music barreling into your ear drum was the only way to distract your thoughts from wandering while you focus on blending out your eyeshadow. That, and the two chimes that rang in rapid succession signaling a text, worked pretty well too. 

Yaku: You’re coming tonight, right?!

A force of breath leaves your nostrils in laughter as you send a progress shot of your look. Yaku Morisuke was a very close friend you’d met through high school, in addition to being the Nekoma volleyball manager, and there was one thing that Yaku knew better than anyone. You didn’t wear false lashes for any reason unless you were trying to get it.

Yaku: I’ll take that as a yes.

You’re the last one to call your check with your roommates—a regular occurrence, really, considering you always took the longest to get ready. For good reason, of course. “Check!” You called out as your heels clacked against the hardwood of your apartment’s hallway. Sporting a heather grey cropped halter top and high-waisted black leather pants, the girls gave their approval with a bit of hesitation.

“Are you sure you want to wear heels?” Kiyoko asked for the third time as everyone packed a spare bag filled with extra clothes that you would put in Yaku’s room later. After the first year, the five of you started to come prepared. The beach bag that was used carried painkillers for impending headaches, two sets comfy clothes in the event some of you couldn’t quite make it home, swimsuits in case someone decided to go drunk swimming, and a spare set of party clothes. This was not your first rodeo, by any means. It was a stroke of luck that the five of you could share clothes as well and as often as you did.

“Don’t worry, they’re not that tall and they’re actually pretty comfy.” And you knew the bag was at capacity, not warranting the ability for you to bring spare shoes anyway.

“Then I think we’re ready to go!” Kaori jeers, elated to see everyone just as much as you were. Kiyoko leads the group, Yachi in tow with her, and Kaori is all but sprinting towards the house, leaving you and Yukie to head up the rear.

“You know,” the former Fukurodani manager sings in her humorous lilt, “Kuroo is going to lose his shit when he sees you.”

“I hope so.”

When it came to one of these mega parties, there was no such thing as being early or fashionably late. There couldn’t be when there was twenty people living in one house and, no, that was not an exaggeration. Supposedly that’s what happened when a bunch of college boys who all used to play volleyball together at some point in time attend the same university—they rent a mansion for the next four years. With dozens of people living under one roof, it was no surprise that the music was already wracking the foundation of the house even from the outside.

Without so much as a knock to the door, the five of you entered the house, immediately being bombarded with a joyous yell from the former Fukurodani captain and ace, Bokuto Koutarou. “Hey guys, the girls are here!” You always found it amusing that, for someone as popular as Bokuto, the five of you were dubbed as the girls. Which made sense considering all of you were club managers at some point or another. Of your old team, Yaku and Lev flock over immediately, the two of them wrapping and squeezing you into a tight hug. The three of you briefly exchanged greetings, questioning how the other’s summer was before silently asking Kiyoko for the beach bag that held your group’s spare belongings.

“Could one of you just stuff this in your room?” Though you hadn’t nominated anyone, you shoved the bag in Lev’s awaiting hands.

“You sleeping over?” He asks, peeking through the open top. Yaku rebukes him immediately, telling him it was rude to go through a woman’s bag.

“Nah, remember how bad I blacked out last year? I just wanted to make sure I brought extra stuff so I don’t have to steal one of your guys’ shirts agains.” The former libero shakes his head before covering his face with one hand.

“[name], please don’t make me look after you again tonight.” The sandy brunette pleads.

“I make no promises, Yaku.” You chirp before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek and entering the massive living room that had been cleared to act as a dance floor. By how many people greet you, you aren’t even sure if you know half the people in here at the moment. There are a few familiar faces of Karasuno alumni, you recognize the DJ as some kid in a class you had last year—he went to Aoba Johsai if you remembered correctly—and Yukie and Kaori are already on the dance floor with all eyes on them. They beckoned for you to join them, red solo cups already in their hands in the air.

“You’re going to want this,” you look up to see Bokuto who had temporarily abandoned his duty playing host to hand you your own drink. Cautiously, you take a sip as his gold eyes watched, waiting for the green light.

Sometimes, Bokuto tended to get carried away with the amount of alcohol he put in the punch. Thankfully, this was not one of those batches.

“Thanks, Bo!” Is all you call out before joining your two other Tokyo friends on the dance floor. From behind them, you can see other party goers honing in on them, completely oblivious to the men doing the same to you. For a moment, however brief it may be, none of it matters as you feel the pounding bass takeover your own heartbeat, squealing with your girls as remixes of old songs that piqued your nostalgia played over the sound system. You take another swig of your drink, already killing your first one of the early night, crinkling the plastic in your hand as you gently squeeze the empty cup so you don’t let go of it. You’re squeezing and squeezing subconsciously until it’s taken out of your hand, making you turn around swiftly because who the fuck—

“Need another?”

“Kuroo!” Before your brain can react and stop you, your arms are around the object of your affection’s neck in a tight embrace, you legs coming off the ground and your skintight leather pants sticking to the back of your knees. Still holding your cup, the old Nekoma captain grins down at you when you release him, gently nudging with his chin towards the direction of the kitchen. The two of you weave and wobble your way through the masses with you walking ahead of him, allowing Kuroo to appreciate the view of your backside. The way your top hit flattered your shoulders well, but the leather pants. The goddamn leather pants were just doing it for him. Joining others crowding around the twenty gallon cooler that Bokuto used to mix and house the alcohol for the night, Kuroo makes it a point to keep close to you.

“When did you show up?” The black-haired man asks as he ladles some liquid out into your cup, making sure to avoid ice cubes.

“Probably ten minutes ago,” you weren’t sure—time was a foreign concept at a party. The captain eyes you almost worriedly, knowing you had a tendency of pushing yourself well past your limits when it came to alcohol.

“And you’re already on your second,” Kuroo lets out a whistle, “better take it easy, princess. Don’t want a repeat of last year.”

“Jokes on you, I don’t even remember last year!” Unable to come up with a witty retort, the middle blocker rolls his eyes before knocking back the rest of the beer in his bottle and grabbing another one. He remembers. He remembers, and he wishes that he didn’t because he didn’t need another memory that contributed to you being the one that got away, despite how close you were.

It’s a little disorienting for you to see him this way, sometimes, so grown that he can down ale like it’s water when back in high school he would hound the team to ensure they were properly nurturing their bodies. It was disorienting to see someone you were once so close with grow right before your eyes. The thought softened your heart for a moment until you realized you were probably staring and you should probably stop before Kuroo thinks you’re weird. You chug half your drink the second the raven-haired man hands it to you, hoping the alcohol would ease your nerves. “What did Bokuto use?” You ask wearily, not tasting an ounce of a burn.

“Everclear, of course.” Oh. Well, fuck. 

“Here’s to me dying tonight.” You hold your cup out towards Kuroo, waiting for him to touch his bottle to it. When he didn’t, and just looked at you thoroughly nonplussed, you shrugged before downing the rest of its contents.

“[name]...” his voice comes as a warning, even more so when you grab another helping for yourself and immediately bringing the rim to your lips.

“Honey, I’m here for a good time, not a long time.” Kuroo watches as you flee back towards the dance floor, rejoining Yukie and Kaori. He doesn’t miss the way your teeth shine in different colors from party lights as you grin. Or the way your firm grip on the cup is similar to that of your mission of getting plastered tonight—unyielding. He doesn’t miss that Seijoh fuck that’s honing in on you from behind. He doesn’t miss the way his hands are firmly planting themselves on your leather-clad hips and he certainly doesn’t miss that you don’t fight him off in the slightest.

Sucking on his teeth, Kuroo knocks back a full bottle of beer without skipping a beat before tossing the glass in the recycling bin and rummaging through his kitchen cupboards. There’s no way Bokuto used all nine—aha! He thinks to himself, finding a fifth of Everclear that was supposed to be used to replenish the jungle juice after it had been killed. Immediately, Kuroo pulls the fresh bottle to his lips, draining a decent amount of its contents into his system each time he sees this guy whispering in your ear. He doesn’t miss the way you’re smiling as he does so.

“It’s so nice to see you, [name]!” Contrary to popular belief and unpopular opinion, Oikawa Tōru isn’t that bad of a person. Sure, he had a big reputation on campus, but that never stopped the two of you from becoming friends. To be perfectly honest, it was a wonder the two of you weren’t friends sooner.

There was no other man in the known universe that matched your party energy because no man ever carried the desire to get as publicly obliterated as you and the former Fukurodani managers did. Unlike the other men that were enrolled at this university, Oikawa didn’t care to find some target of a hook up at parties—he’d rather do that sober, maybe take a girl out for a nice, ritzy dinner. Parties were for blacking out and hearing the crazy shit you did for the next three months and living with your name in infamy; that was your guys’ philosophy and you were sticking to it.

Because of this principle, Oikawa often uses you as a hook up repellent to deter unwanted attention and you do the same because there was only one person you ever wanted at these types of shindigs. One person that, regardless of the two of you knowing each other since the first year of high school, never seemed to want to be this kind of close to you. You tried to pretend that it didn’t hurt; that someone you knew for so long and that you unearthed your feelings for two years ago wouldn’t want to press his body to yours and claim his territory. In your mind, he was partially the reason you carried the mentality that you may as well just blackout and try to have fun. In a twisted way it worked, considering how bad you got last year.

And that person, after greeting you for a few minutes, always seemed to end up in hoards and swarms of women you didn’t know. Kuroo was always caught up doing his own thing at his own pace. It shouldn’t have bothered you, considering he was one of the hosts, but a small part of you that was full of envy just never could let it go. Which seemed to regularly bring you into the hands of Oikawa Tōru. “I missed you too, Oiks!” You tell over the pounding music. The brunette is laughing and smiling as offers cheers to you, taking a swig of whatever cheap beer he had in his cup.

You have no idea how long you’re dancing for—all you know that song after song is keeping you alive and the number of drinks a mystery. But after Oikawa returns with your cup replenished, the heat from the swarm of sweaty bodies in addition to the alcohol erasing your logic, you decide you need a break. Without saying anything, not that the former Seijoh captain would have been able to hear you anyway, you point in the direction of the patio just beyond the connected sliding door. When he shakes his head, you wriggle your way through the sweltering crowd before all but skipping out the sliding door, letting the mild summer night air cool down your skin.

Not surprisingly, Yaku is outside with a few others that preferred not to be swamped by the masses, including your other two roomates. Save for one very familiar face that you’d hadn’t even realized was here tonight. “Yamamoto!” You yell, immediately sprinting over to him to tackle him, accidentally knocking the lit cigarette betwixt his lips down to the concrete of the patio.

“[name]! You crazy son of bitch, I missed you!” Everyone is full laughters and smiles, sharing stories of their summers and reminiscing of the previous parties that occurred in this very same mansion. To some degree, you were thankful you weren’t the only person that got buck wild at these events. Two years ago, Oikawa, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa had shown up with bulk amounts of powdered Kool-aid mix and dumped it into the hot tub in an attempt to “dye the water red”. Or so they claimed. Apparently, Kool-aid and chlorine don’t mix well.

Needless to say, Yaku was pissed about it.

In that same year, Lev knocked over the famed cooler fifty gallon cooler that was once the home for Bokuto’s even more infamous jungle juice. Note to all future party holders, Hawaiian Punch stains all carpets, regardless of color, if there’s enough of it. Especially monsoons of it. Akaashi learned that the hard way when he was the one who had to make the phone call to get the hallway re-carpeted and the floorboards underneath had to be replaced as well due to moisture. Thank you, Hawaiian Punch. Which was why there was now always at least one person—Akaashi himself, due to the trauma from two years ago—who guards the smaller cooler with his life. Nobody is knocking that over ever again and if they do, he’ll send them an invoice in addition to slicing off their head.

Then there was your infamous blackout from last year. While you, obviously, remember nothing about it, Yaku made sure to recount every detail possible. The last thing you remember was chugging a bottle of Jägermeister. 

You hate Jägermesiter.

According to Yaku, at some point you started taking cutlery out of the drawer in the kitchen and going into each of the rooms and hiding silverware in different spaces. Nothing was off limits—whether someone was in the middle of getting a blowjob or hiding forks in people’s shoes. You also had decided to try to climb on top of Lev’s shoulders so you could see what it was like to be tall. Try, in the sense that Lev was entirely unwilling and refused to crouch down for you, resulting in you falling off of him and ripping his shirt off to keep balance.

Yaku’s favorite moment, and that is entirely satirical, is when you started a fight with Bokuto. Not only had you thrown your few cigarette butts from social smoking that you had inherently participated into the punch to “claim your territory”, but he, Yaku, and Kuroo were so worried when they saw you reach to drink the contaminated jungle juice that the former Fukurodani captain had tried to take your cup from you and just have you sleep it off in Kuroo’s room. Which, in all fairness, you did. However, if you were going to go, you were going to go down swinging.

Literally.

As soon as the cup was out of your hand, Kuroo had to physically restrain you from punching Bokuto in the face as you screamed that you were one hundred percent sober. Unfortunately, Kuroo’s grip slipped, mostly due to your squirming and thrashing, and you had landed a solid blow on Bokuto’s cheek. Needless to say, the three boys had to all but detain you and leave you with a babysitter—a position that Kuroo ended up volunteering for.

You wished you could have remembered at least that part of it. Only Kuroo knows what and if anything happened between the two of you that night, but he refused to ever speak about that night.

Recalling last year’s events prompted Yaku to remind you one more time this evening, “I am not fucking babysitting you again tonight, [name].”

“Technically, Kuroo babysat me.” You jeer as you stick your tongue out at the former libero before smashing the remaining contents of your cup. After your last seven drinks, you were a solid level of drunk to the point of still being coherent, but the ground was definitely moving in ways it shouldn’t have been. “Speaking of which, where is my favorite rooster?”

“Oh he’s been in the pool for the last like hour.” From the patio, your head snaps over as if to confirm it. But seeing Kuroo, hunched over alone with a half full bottle of Henny in his hand while he sat at the steps leading him into the water was not how you pictured you’d find the former captain. Normally, he would surrounded with potential suitors hanging off his arms and cracking jokes just to see if he could get lucky for the night. Yet, everything in his body language screamed “leave me be!”

And yet, you were you.

“I’m gonna go join him—“

“Wait, [name],” Yaku grabs your wrist before you can flit off to his room to change into the swimsuit you had brought, “I really don’t think he wants company right now.”

“That’s when people most need it!” Managing to wriggle out of the libero’s grasp, you made your way inside, weaving and bobbing between the partygoers with an expertise that you shouldn’t have had in the moment thanks to how much you drank. Or maybe you didn’t actually have at all, considering you tripped up the stairs a couple times. Maybe heels weren’t the best idea, but you managed to make it to Lev and Yaku’s shared room—the third door on the left. Knocking just to be sure, you were greeted with a relatively tidy room and the beach bag Kiyoko had brought sitting on top of the libero’s neatly made bed.

After slipping into the two piece and grabbing the beach towel someone had thought to bring, you retraced your steps, barefoot this time thankfully, before popping out the back door and joining Kuroo on the steps. For a moment, he looks up at you and you can see him fully. His hair is hanging over his face, as per usual, but rather than covering his usual jovial hazel eyes, they’re masking something darker. Even in the dead August night with only soft porch and pool lights for exposure, you can see the murky storms brewing in his eyes from a single, sideways glance. “What, tired of being around everyone?” The captain slurs.

“Not particularly. But you seem to be.”

“The water feels nice,” is all he says before pulling the bottle of Hennessy to his lips and taking a large gulp before offering it to you. It’s a small offer of a white flag, but a genuine one that tells you he is allowing your presence and company. “So, where’s Oikawa?” You shrug at the question while taking no offense to it before taking a pull of your own.

“I dunno, I’m not his keeper.” A natural silence lulls over the two of you. After handing the bottle back to Kuroo, you take a few more tentative steps into the water so that it rests just above your chest, cooling your body from the heat of the alcohol that consumed you. “So, I get that it’s your party and you’ll sulk if you want to, but what’s eating at you?” You ask. As you’re speaking, your hands are moving about the chlorinated water, occasionally cupping the pristine liquid only to have it leave your fingers.

“Who says something’s bothering me?” Kuroo grits out. Not very well, you might add, as his slurs cause him to miss a couple vowels and consonants in his sentence. Judging by the fact that he’s drinking straight out of the bottle, Hennessy no less, you assumed he’s been hitting the sauce pretty hard. After all, Kuroo hated Henny almost as much as you hated Jäger. Turning to look back at him, you see the way he’s hunches over after bringing the half full bottle down to a quarter, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Kuroo, you think I don’t know you?” Your question was intended to come out as snarky, considering the long standing friendship between the two of you, yet swallowing down the infatuation you had been harboring for the last couple of years. However, seeing the way his shoulders were slumped and the defeat that crossed his downcast features—you didn’t have it in you to be mean to him.

“No, you don’t.” Comes the reply, one you weren’t expecting.

“Say sike right now,” you growl, “Kuroo, we have been friends for almost six fucking years—will you fucking put that down?!” You’re snapping now, the stomping of your feet muted by the water as you approach the captain and rip the almost empty bottle from his hands. Just so that he couldn’t keep hiding himself behind alcohol, you pour the remaining contents into your own mouth and toss the bottle into the nearby grass before you bring yourself to sit next to him with your knees touching his. “I have known you for—“

“Six fucking years, [name], I know.” The tone in his voice is suddenly clear. The slurs and disparity were now replaced with bitterness and acidity that rarely ever came from Kuroo. “For six fucking years, you’ve known me and yet you never once fucking looked at me.”

“Kuroo, I look at you all the—“

“No, you don’t,” his hazel eyes are lit with fire and intensity that reflected the anguish he felt inside. As much as he wanted to, the former captain couldn’t stop himself from saying the things that he’d sworn to secrecy for so long. “If you ever actually looked at me, you would see the way I looked at you.”

“Kuroo...”

“Why do you think I volunteered to watch over you last year after you fucking swung at my best friend?” The sheer burn of his words and the lava in his orbs is enough to make your heart stop. You swear that it actually did. “Why do you think I asked you to become the manager all those years ago? Or why I get so fucking pissed off that you show up here just to blackout? That you’re friends with Oikawa of all people?”

“Because you’re a good person?”

“Cause I’m in love with you, you moron!” Kuroo’s outburst is followed by him threading his fingers into his signature bed head, hiding the hot tears that he can’t stop from falling. He can’t help it—not when all of his composure was drained from every bottle he drank today. “[name], I literally held you and rocked you to sleep while you were puking your guts out over the side of my bed last year! Do you have any idea how hard it was not to confess while you were crying after punching Bo? How I finally got to hold you after six years but you don’t remember a single second of it?”

“Kuroo, I—“ but you don’t have anything to say. What can you say? You had no idea that any of that had ever taken place. And besides that, you felt that you were never worthy of his attention. You thought there was no possible way he actually returned the tiny embers of the crush you’d had on him for all these years, so there was never a reason to ask if anything had happened between the two of you that night. You didn’t have anything to say and the only thought that crossed your mind at the moment was to run from the situation—to leave him alone because clearly Kuroo wasn’t thinking straight. “I should leave.” You whisper.

“Wait, don’t go! Just...” a mangled sob leaves his chest and, for a moment, it’s sobering to watch him transition from being standoffish to angry to hurt, “why can’t you just look at me the way you look at him?” And suddenly, you’re overly aware of how convoluted your plan to use Oikawa as a hook up repellent was. How it worked out almost too well to the point where the one person you wanted thought you were out of reach.

“Kuroo, Oikawa and I aren’t dating, he’s known that I’ve had a crush on you since we started uni.”

It’s silent between the two of you.

It’s silent as Kuroo slowly turns to you as he relishes in the way your eyes boast sobriety and honesty—the way he knows you’re telling him the truth. 

And then he’s laughing. Head tossed back and hands over his stomach in a way that is just so Kuroo as he guffaws with zero regard for his volume. There was just enough alcohol left in his system that he couldn’t bring himself to care, just enough for him to have zero inhibitions left. “So you’re telling me that I drank a bottle of Everclear, a bottle of Henny, and a twelve-pack to my self for no reason?”

“Kuroo, you may or may not have alcohol poisoning.” You deadpan in reply.

“Oh look who’s talking!” Once again, the man beside is you laughing and you’re happy that he’s slowly returning to his normal, joking self. But the uncomfortable silence rears its ugly head once again and the two of you are looking at each other. How long had the two of you been staring at one another? Since you’d drained the rest of the Hennessy or since either of you last had a drink?

How much of this conversation was born because of the alcohol? It seems the question was weighing heavily on each of you.

“Do you mean it, Kuroo?” You ask quietly.

“I love you more than I hate Henny.” A snort leaves your nostrils, but you don’t miss the genuine tone. You don’t miss the way his hazel orbs have softened or the way one of his hands reached over to hold yours. You don’t miss the way his taut skin over his cheekbones relaxes by the slightest millimeter or the way his tongue peeks out to wet his slightly chapped lips. You don’t miss the way he’s looking at you with love. “You know, you were the only person I asked to be the manager back in high school. It was the only excuse I had to talk to you at the time.”

“Oh no, drunk confessions,” you tease, squeezing his hand. “Speaking of drunk, do you think we’re gonna remember this conversation tomorrow?” Another bellow of laughter escapes Kuroo’s chest followed by him wrapping one arm around shoulder to bring you closer. He knew he would. No amount of alcohol could ever make him forget hearing the fact that you’d been just as smitten with him as he was with you. Well, maybe not as much, but it was a start.

“That depends. Are you planning on blacking out tonight?”

“Is that what it takes to sleep in your bed again?”

“Is that a confession I hear, babygirl?” The pet name goes straight from your ears and sends a chill down your spine and he knows it’s getting to you. He knows, and everything feels right. He’s told you he loves you and that he has for years. He knows there’s nothing stopping either of you anymore, and he knows that you’re only getting started.

“I’ll show you a confession.”

Haikyuu!! Tag List

@hihiq​  @tamcitrus​

[certifiedskywalker]

Baby Steps - Steve Roger

Like everyone else in the universe, you lost people when Thanos snapped his fingers. Everyone had lost people, lost hope, lost the will to fight for another day. So when you came across a support group flyer, you had to sum up what was left of your strength and go. Only, you didn’t know what, more like who, was in store for you when you got there. 

AN: Fem!Reader. Sorry, specific pronouns proved necessary for this fic.

One Year After the Snap…

You looked down at the slip of paper in your hand and read the address written there for the third time that day. Frowning, you looked up at the building before you. 1423 Canal Street; this was the right place. You shoved the slip back into your jacket pocket with a huff and made towards the front doors.

The cold of the outside world melted away as soon as you walked into the conference hall. Most of the rooms you passed were empty, the door left open so the heat could leak out into the hall. Despite the warmth, the place felt dead. There was no sound of life to be heard except for the scraping of chairs from down the hall. 

You figured the room with light in the doorway was the place to go. Fresh coffee, a welcoming scent, emanated through the open door, just enough to coax you inside. The scene that greeted you made you stomach churn. It was just like in the movies and TV shows you had seen; it was truly uncanny.

They all sat in a circle, leaning or hunched over on chairs in a poor attempt of getting comfortable. People in varying ages, some old, some young, all with frowns on their faces. Their expressions made you feel, oddly, at home. These people too had faced loss brought by the same hand. They too had their loved ones ripped from reality forever.

“You can take any seat, honey.” 

You turned your head towards the voice that had ripped you from your reflection. A pair of kind, brown eyes met your gaze. She looked to be one of the older people in the room. Her black hair was curled tight with pieces of undyed grey shining through under the lights. She wore a smile on her face one that, despite her age, left not a crease in her dark skin.

You gave the woman the best half-smile you could muster. “Thanks.”

You could still feel her smile as you slid into an empty chair. She took the one at your side and you felt a little more at ease. Although, the eyes of the others around you made you feel self-conscious of your own sadness. You leaned back in your seat and tried to straighten your frown. The last thing you wanted was any more eyes on you. 

“New face,” observed an older man from across the circle. His balding head was graced by what was left of wisps of white hair. If it weren’t for the way his face was screwed up with a strange curiosity, you would have felt sorry for him. He leaned towards you with squinted eyes, “a little late to join the pity party, eh?”

You opened your mouth, partly in shock but ready to retort when the clean-shaved man raised a calming hand.

“It’s never too late, Rod. You came in during our third official meeting. Anita remembers, right?” He looked over towards you, with light blue eyes before glancing at the woman that had greeted you before. 

“I do,” she hummed. “Just as shy as this one.” She rested a nurturing, reassuring hand on your shoulder. Despite her kindness, you felt your cheeks burning with embarrassment. 

The older man, Rod, sank back into his seat. His thin lips were turned down in a tight frown. He turned his gaze to you and you heard a mumbled ‘sorry’. You nodded and tried to regain what little composure you had come in with. When you glanced around the circle, you saw that the gentleman next to Rod, the one that had come to your defense, had his eyes lingering on you. It wasn’t a harsh stare, more of a thoughtful one.

“But you are new.” There was a softness in his voice when he spoke as if he were talking to a wounded, wild animal. “Do you care to start off and share?”

“I-I,” you met the man’s gaze and continued, “I’m Y/N.”

“Hi, Y/N.” A majority of the group greeted you in an almost comical voice.

“Thanks, hi,” you breathed. You gave a grateful glance around the room before looking back at the blue-eyed man that was leading the group. “And I uh, I don’t want to start.”

“That’s alright,” he said, giving you a tender smile. “Just glad that you found us. Whenever you want to share, just speak up.” 

“Okay,” you murmured before falling silent. The quiet following you settled within the group. It lingered until Anita spoke up. 

“I didn’t think about her yesterday.” You looked over at the older woman and saw her dark eyes had turned sad. “First time in...ever. Felt like she wasn’t even ever here, like for a moment I forgot...what happened...maybe even her.”

A tear slipped from one of her eyes. You couldn’t help but wonder who she had lost to Thanos. You could feel her pain as your own; bitter but not as angry. Anita looked too tired and too kind to be angry. She wiped at her cheeks before letting out a shaking breath. 

“I don’t want to forget her.”

“You won’t,” the blue-eyed man said softly. “Your daughter will stay with you, no matter what. She made you who you are today, whether she’s gone or not.” Some strange comfort was found in his voice. A sense of warmth you hadn’t felt in...had it been a year already? A year since Thanos?

“You’re right, Steve,” Anita continued, “it just the idea of it.” She shook her head, “almost too much to bear. I want to move on but it feels like, if I do, I might forget her.” You heart ached for the woman beside you. To lose a daughter, to lose anyone to Thanos, so instantly, so finally, was a curse. 

“We will never forget those we’ve lost,” the man, Steve, said soothingly. “Remembering them as who they were, not what happened to them, is a small step in the right direction.”

“Baby steps,” Anita agreed, nodding her head. 

“Baby steps,” Steve repeated. His blue eyes shifted, studied you for a moment before giving you a tender smile. You found yourself, against all odds, returning the expression. You couldn’t remember the last time you had smiled.

Your smile wavered as you listened to the rest of the group tell their stories. They recited old memories as if they were written in a book before them and you felt the urge to share some of your own. Yet, something held you back. Some crippling feeling that you could not name. Before you could even try, the meeting had drawn to a close.

“Alright, everyone, that’s time today,” Steve said, his voice heavy with a sense of true sadness. “Remember, I’m a call away and we met every Wednesday.” 

People already started to filed out the room, some snagging one last cup of coffee or donut as they went. You stood and felt someone place a gentle hand on your shoulder. You turned and saw Anita wearing a bittersweet smile.

“It was nice meeting you today, Y/N.”

“Nice meeting you too, Anita,” you replied with a smile that mirrored her own. “I hope you’ll come back next week. Sharing can be so…”

“Cathartic,” you finished for her. Her eyes lit up and she nodded.

“That’s it, cathartic.” You nodded and Anita gave your shoulder a final pat before following the group out the door. A few had stayed behind to help Steve with the chairs. Although it seemed that he didn’t need much as he carried five chairs to the back of the room with an alarming sense of ease.

You wandered over to the table of snacks and filled a paper cup with water for yourself. As you filled it, you reached for a napkin to dab at your eyes. So many stories of loss had been shared and you were fearful that you had cried without knowing it. When the napkin came back dry, you breathed a gentle sigh of relief. When your cup was filled, you turned around and nearly ran into a board chest. You looked up a nearly jumped. Steve stood before you, a smile on his face and curious eyes.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Ha, it’s alright,” you said, suddenly nervous. He was even more attractive up close. It had been a while since you had looked at someone and thought of them as attractive. You hadn’t allowed yourself that since the snap. 

“I don’t know what Anita told you but,” Steve began, “don’t feel pressure to share. She means well, but it’s a personal thing.” You felt your stomach twist at Steve’s concern. 

“Oh, thanks, she was...she’s nice.” Steve nodded and let out a chuckle.

“She brought cookies to one meeting. She’s very sweet.” You nodded and curled your bottom lip in between your teeth. “Well, I’ll let you get going. See you next Wednesday?”

“Y-Yeah, see you then,” you said, unable to say ‘no’ when Steve was looking at you like that. You watched as he walked away. The few that had stayed behind to help greeted him and you heard a few of them laugh. You took in a few more seconds of the hopeful sight before turning towards the door. Maybe Wednesday would be your first good day.

Next Wednesday...

You were shaking, sweating, all but panting with fear. The days in between your first meeting and the next one, you had hyped yourself up. Self-talk and encouraging yourself to share had haunted you in the sleeping hours. Now, it was the day of the meeting and you were trembling. You wanted to share your story to feel some sort of relief.

You needed to let it go; you were tired of being unable to function normally. It was like you were a slave to grief and loss. Today was your day to break free of the shackles. You only hoped that there weren’t that many people there and sharing would come easy.

When you arrived at the meeting, you felt your stomach drop. Nearly every chair was filled when you sat down. Steve was sat across from you, waving at each person as they took a seat. When he saw you he smiled, a sight you still weren’t entirely used to. You waved back half-heartedly and Steve’s smile faded. 

“There is coffee and Anita’s gingersnaps on the table if anyone wants them,” Steve announced tot he newcomers. He stood up and glanced at the clock. 

“We’ll start up soon.”

You felt a hand on your shoulder, Anita’s hand, and you turned to meet her gaze. “Hi, Anita.”

“So happy you came back,” she said with a kind smile. Like Steve, when she got a better look at you, her grin faded away. “You feelin’ alright, hon?”

“A little sick, I think,” you lied. Anita pressed her lips together in a thin line before speaking up.

“You do look a little pale. Do you feel warm?” You bit back the bittersweet tears that threatened to slip past your eyes. Anita was truly a mother; and you, in that moment, had become her child. How could your pain even be on par with hers?

“Y-Yeah, a bit,” you lied again. Anita frowned and gestured towards the door.

“Do you want to go to the bathroom and get some cool water? It might help,” you shook your head and gave her a smile. 

“I think I’ll be alright,” you murmured. Anita nodded and took the seat at your side. You waited quietly, trying to calm the raging storm of dread and nerves in your stomach. When all the cars had finally filled, Steve cleared his throat.

“Hello everyone,” he began, “I’m happy you all could make it. I see some new faces, some familiar ones. Anyone care to start off today’s meeting?” A deafening silence filled the room and you turned your gaze to the floor in the center of the circle.  Your ears rang in the quiet, let it roll around in your mind until something inside snapped.

“I can,” you said softly.

Your voice was barely audible above the low din of the heating unit in the room. When you looked up, you saw that Steve, somehow, had heard you. His blue eyes were on you with a worried, yet supportive look. Steve nodded his head for you to continue. 

“I lost someone, people, really,” you began, a bit louder than the last time. “I was...we were happy. Not rich, not poor, but happy. So when it...happened…” 

Suddenly you felt your throat go dry. Old memories, ones of smiling faces and laughter, something you hadn’t heard since the snap, resurfaced in your mind’s eye. You felt tears gather in your eyes and lost the ability to continue. The knots you stomach had been tied up in unraveled and you started towards the door.

“I’m sorry,” you said as you rushed away. You could hear a few people gasp and murmur as you stormed out, but your mind was elsewhere. 

Yellowed lights shone down on you when you stumbled out into the hallway like tiny suns. You felt bile rise, crawl up your throat with a vengeance. A sudden dizzy spell fell over you and you reached out for the nearest object. You braced your arms against the wall to keep yourself upright. Tears streamed down your cheeks freely and no amount of shallow breaths seemed to calm them or your heaving chest. 

“Y/N!” You heard your name but it sounded so far away. Like some being from the heavens was calling out to you. Yet it sounded wonderfully familiar. You heard the beat of sped footfalls headed in your direction and you squeezed your eyes shut. This has to be a nightmare.

“Wake up,” you whispered angrily; but when you opened your eyes, all you saw was the tile floor of the conference building and the toes of your shoes. 

“Y/N, are you alright?” You turned your head only enough to sneak a glance at Steve, whose blue eyes were full of concern. He was hunched over at your side and you wanted to cry. Some strange sense of Steve’s must have picked up on your want to sob because you left a hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles in the material of your shirt. “Just try to breathe for me.”

You let out a very breathy, and bitter, chuckle before turning your head again. When your eyes met Steve’s you shook your head. “I’m one breath...away..from a panic attack.”

“Okay, then, don’t breathe.” Steve said with a little smile that stole away any breath you had saved. “I’ll be right here no matter what.”

After a few moments of steadying your breath and collecting the shattered splinters of yourself, you tried to make your whole person again. You stood up straight and held yourself together before you dared to meet Steve’s eyes again. Even as you stood, his hand remained on your upper back. The warmth from his soothed you and you fought the temptation to lean into his touch.

“Th-Thanks, you didn’t have to come out here. Everyone else is…” 

“I got someone to cover for me,” Steve explained, “it’s alright.” You let out a small hum and nodded before taking a step away from Steve. When had you gotten so close?

“Well, I better go…”

“Are you sure? The meeting doesn’t end until…” Steve glanced at the clock hung in the hallway but you started to shake your head.

“I can’t go back in there. Not today, at least.” Steve nodded and you saw the starting of a frown on his features.

“Are you okay with being alone?” You were stunned silent by the question. Ever since the snap, you had been alone, with no questions asked. Yet, here was Steve, the first person to ask about you being lonely with those blue eyes of his. You didn’t know whether to swoon or cry.

“I-I…y-yeah. I’ll be alright.”

Steve gave you a disbelieving look but nodded nonetheless. “Take care of yourself, Y/N.”

“I will,” you lied and started walking down the hall. You heard Steve’s shoes thack against the tile as he made his way back inside the meeting hall. Some selfish part of you wanted him to follow you. Wanted Steve to ditch his responsibilities to comfort your cowardice. At that thought, you stopped in your tracks. 

“I will,” you repeated as you turned back around. You retraced your steps until you stood before the door to the meeting room. You had to take care of yourself. No one else, besides Steve maybe, could tell you how to do that. Baby steps, you thought to yourself. So, you swallowed hard, took the first few baby steps, and pushed through the double doors.

Three Months Later...

“See you next week, Anita,” you said with a smile and wave. The older woman returned your sentiment and limped out the door. At the sight of her stumbling walk, you frowned.

“She fell the other day.” You jumped at the sound of Steve’s voice and turned to face him. He wore a grim expression, one that, you were sure, graced your own features. “Slipped on the ice when she was trying to get to her car.”

“I could pick her up on Wednesdays,” you suggested, “but I don’t think she’d like that.” 

“Anita is stubbornly attached to her independence.” You glanced around the now empty room, scanning for any sign of lingering patron before looking up at Steve. You nudged his shoulder with your own and he turned his blue eyes to you.

“Sounds like someone else I know,” you teased and Steve beamed down at you. You felt his hands start a path down from your shoulders to your fingers until the warmth of his hands enveloped your own. 

“You? Yeah, I would say so,” he fired back. Your smile widened and you lifted your hands from his so you could wrap your arms around the back of his neck. With little strength and zero will power from Steve, you pulled his face down to yours. His soft lips brushed against yours and you felt your insides twist with excitement.

“I had someone else in mind.” 

Your whisper danced in the small space between you. When you spoke, your lips knocked gently against Steve’s and before you could continue with your teasing, he was kissing you. His hands found your waist and pulled you flush to his body. Warmth spread out and around you both as if you were meant to fit together. 

You wished you could have both stayed there forever. You wished you could both forget about the pain, the circumstances that brought you together. Yet reality had a funny way of existing and even more hilarious way of unfolding. Just as you pulled your lips from Steve’s the door to the meeting hall creaked open.

“I forgot my-oh!” You turned your head to see Anita, black hair now streaked with grey, poking through the door. “I didn’t mean to interrupt!”

“You’re alright,” you said, a bit breathlessly. You walked over to the table that had once been full of refreshments and grabbed a knitted, purple hat. “This one yours?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Anita shrilled, her dark eyes still glancing between you and Steve. The latter of which was standing as still as an awkward post.

“Here you go.” Anita took her hat from your hand with a wink.

“Thank ya, kindly.” She turned to Steve and smiled. “See you two next Wednesday.”

“Be safe,” you called after her, but Anita was already walking away. You strode over to where Steve stood and gave him a smile. “I expected you to handle that better.”

“I expected you not to handle that,” Steve retorted. 

“I’m different from when we first met,” you said. You turned and walked over to where you coat hung on the back of a chair. “I’m not the same girl you got to know.”

You pulled the coat on over your shoulders and you felt warmth once more. Steve’s hands were on you again, helping tug the sleeves over your arms. Once you were wrapped up in your winter coat, you leaned back against Steve and savored the moment. You had come a long way since that first meeting.

“You’re the girl I love,” Steve said softly as his arms hung over your shoulders. You grabbed his hands and smiled lazily. If it meant you and Steve would stay together, you were ready for a thousand more baby steps to come.

[yeats-infection]

@sqvalors tagged me in a lil writing meme... if you’d like to participate please do and tag me! 

ao3 name: fluorescentgrey but i also post some things as drglass (dr. glass is the second song on the fluorescent grey EP by deerhunter, so if i make another pseud it will be likenew, then washoff, etc.) 

fandoms: about two thirds of my fics are harry potter or star wars but there are a lot of random little goodies. currently i have shifted into the terror (2018) mode. 

number of fics: 59 right now... i will throw a party when i get to 69... 

fic i spent the most time on: this is funny because some of these technically took me like six months or more of working on them extremely intermittently... namely, bone machine. the series in the garden has taken me the most time generally... and in that, minuet did take me several months of working really hard while i had a schedule / commute that was not conducive to having a creative practice... 

fic i spent the least amount of time on: hilariously, literally my most popular fic by ninety miles, the witcher PWP that i wrote out of spite in two or three hours. 

longest fic: the source codes series... particularly heelstone which is 102k. i wrote these two stories in a single summer like a crazy person and i hate talking about them because i find them WAY too gooey. honestly, that’s why they are so long. it’s all the gooeyness!!!!!! 

shortest fic: yes, the answer is the witcher porn again (this silly thing is going to be the answer for many other questions in this little meme but i’m just going to stop talking about it while i’m ahead). the west end is just about 50 words longer and is much better and is a much better and more interesting story. 

most hits: we’re just going to pretend it’s sex and dying in high society, which has the second most hits. this is certainly due to the fact that @wolfstarwarehouse hypes this story a lot for which i am endlessly grateful! 

most kudos: recovery position has the second most kudos so let’s go with that one! i have been very touched by the response to this story, though i do personally like the sequel beachcoma a little more... i understand why not everyone wants to read it because it is a little more bittersweet. but it also comes from my soul. 

most comment threads: the two stories in the source codes series are leading here, because i only posted two chapters at a time so that i would get maximal validation, lol. 

most bookmarks: in order to talk about a story i haven’t talked about yet, the rosary has the fourth-most. i think this fic is truly my r/s swan song... i said everything i wanted to say and did everything i wanted to do. it’s a really good mystery/noir story that i didn’t think i could pull off until i did! and i love the OCs in it who have sort of manifested these secret headcanons for me that i may expostulate upon someday. thank you to @piovascosimo for the inspiration to write it. 

total word count: 1,000,478. lol! 

favorite fic i wrote: cannot possibly choose but probably the top five in order of date posted are: desperado, a handful of dust, doom town, beachcoma, jump into the fire

fic i’d rewrite / expand on: i already said all of source codes because it’s way too gooey, i also could make hard time killing floor blues a lot tighter, and a memoir of the flesh deserves a way better ending because i was rushing to make the yuletide deadline...

share a bit of a WIP: i was trying for a while to write a band of brothers AU where they are vietnam vets who start growing cannabis... based on the steve earle song “copperhead road.” this could have been SO good but the plot was too huge and unwieldy so i gave up. my roommate is obsessed with this idea and keeps asking me how it’s going so i may yet finish. but there’s a bit below the cut.

The knock at the door in the night was a sharp shock, bright as lightning, that sent them both back to Khe Sanh and before. Nix ducked. Dick went behind the doorframe. They kept low into the kitchen, where Nix took his old officer’s pistol out from where he kept it hidden behind the fridge. Then they went to the door, keeping to the edges of the hallways.

On the porch was Liebgott. He could have made his own way in likely right onto the couch without either of them noticing, so it was something that he had knocked on the goddamn door. It was particularly something given that none of the boys from Easy should have known about the grow operation, or even about Dick’s farm, being as Dick’s address on file at the V.A. was a post office box in town and Nix’s was still in Jersey. These considerations were nil to somebody who had spent the better part of five years in the bush of Vietnam. He took a last draw from his cigarette and put it out against the rubber sole of his boot, then he put the butt in his pocket. As far as Nix knew, he hadn’t said a word since January 1970.  

“Joe,” said Dick diplomatically. He put his hand out and Liebgott took it. Then he took Nix’s. He had handsome dark eyes, but they were full of a wall. You could tell he saw you, but it was like nothing followed the necessary channels to the brain to spur emotional response. It had been like this even while he was still talking, and after a while you got used to it.

“You comin' in,” said Nix, knowing he probably would even if he wasn’t invited.

Inside, they all three sat at the kitchen table in silence nobody was about to break. Finally Dick got up and went to the drawer where they kept the rollies and their share of the product. He passed a sheaf of papers and a film canister full of bud to Liebgott across the table. Nix understood as well as Dick apparently did that there would be no getting anything over on this kid, who had eyes in the back and sides of his head. He’d probably had a nice tour of the property before coming inside. “You hungry, son,” Dick said.

Liebgott shook his head. He extracted one of the buds from the canister and inspected it. They did look mighty good if Nix said so himself. They looked artful in Liebgott’s hand. There were black scabs across his knuckles and a dark rime of filth under those fingernails which still existed. He seemed satisfied enough with what he saw to take a paper out of the sheaf and start shredding the flower into it.

“Captain Nixon calls it Easy Diesel,” said Dick, like he was trying to pretend it wasn’t the funniest thing in the world.

Liebgott looked up and a smile flashed across his face like the savage golden light of a flare falling over the far hills. His smile was sort of brutal, like the edge of a knife in a barfight, or like a seething animal. Luckily it went away as quickly as it had come. He rolled the joint with a quick grace and lit the business end with his old silver Zippo Nixon hadn’t seen since the war. There was a skull engraved on one side and on the other it read IF YOU ARE RECOVERING MY BODY, FUCK YOU.

“I don’t know how you found us, Joe,” Dick said thoughtfully. “You don’t have to… tell us. But we ain’t exactly keen to have just anybody here.” He paused and looked quickly to Nix, who tried to make it abundantly clear by means of eyebrows that he wasn’t sure they ought to go down this road, wherever it was leading. Dick ignored him. Liebgott was watching them, fully understanding their attempted clandestine exchange. “We ain’t exactly keen to have the DEA here,” Dick said at last.

The cherry at the end of the joint atomized with a crackling hiss. Liebgott looked between Dick and Nix with extreme seriousness sullied only by his exhaling a dignified white cloud out his nose. Then he nodded, once, curtly, demonstrating he understood his orders as they had been relayed.

Nix flashed Dick what he thought was a what have you done type look. But Dick looked totally unbothered. He should have gone into this business years ago for how violently unflappable he was. He said to Liebgott, “I’ll get some blankets and you can make up the couch.”

Liebgott shook his head to say no need. He got up, careful not to scrape the chair against the floor, shook each of their hands again, and in less than a minute’s time he was back out the door with nothing more than what he’d come in with except the joint.

Nix and Dick, on the porch, listening to the crickets, watched him disappear into the darkness.

“Are we hallucinating,” said Nix eventually.

“I sure as hell hope not,” Dick replied. “We’ve got to ship all that product or we’ll starve.”

-

In the morning Nix was in the field, inspecting the plants. Liebgott was standing there at his quarter for god knew how long before he cleared his throat and Nix jumped about six feet in the air. There was a smirk shifting across Liebgott’s face that he would have been better about hiding when Nix had been his commanding officer. He looked like he hadn't slept. Back over there he had looked like that a lot, but it had been different, because of all the uppers they were taking. He cocked his head back over toward the long driveway and then he was off across the dew-wet grass which had already soaked through the hems of his canvas pants and his destroyed shoes.

Nix followed, like a duckling behind a hen. Liebgott still walked as though there were eyes in all sides of his head quickly processing information as he moved. Nix doubted you ever lost that kind of skill, even if in the real world it made you look like a mental patient. He caught up so they could walk side by side through the dew-wet grass. “What did you think,” he asked Liebgott.

Liebgott passed Nix the universal sign of furrowed brow that meant please clarify.

Nix gestured with pinched fingers to his own mouth as though Liebgott were also deaf. “The grass.”

He shaped his hand into an a-ok sign.

“You get any sleep?”

He nodded an infinitesimal nod, like the answer was a secret just for Nix to know.

“Well if you think it could be better just tell me how.”

Nix had had a high school friend whose sister was deaf from scarlet fever and whom he had watched on occasion communicate with her by means of sign language. Early on, back over there, he had sent off to command for a book, but by the time it came he understood it wasn’t that Liebgott couldn’t speak, he just didn’t want to. It was something like how people’s hair supposedly turned white if they witnessed some evil thing, or how people became ascetics in the name of god. If you were really fucked up on drugs or fear or otherwise, or if the natural magical thinking from childhood hadn’t been fully beaten out of you, you might have seen it as the sacrifice he had given to the forest for letting him out without a scratch so many goddamn times. It had been a bit of a trial to explain this to Spiers, who was practical almost to a fault, sometimes.

Liebgott showed another a-ok sign. Then he did a thumbs up which Nix knew meant it was good.

All in all it was smart. If he was still talking, Nix might have asked him, what have you been up to? You been sleeping on the street? You been to the V.A.? What did they tell you? And the answer would’ve been nothing good. Instead they just walked in the cool grass together in the sunshine and the morning was beautiful, and the air was sweet. It was all lovely until Liebgott had to physically stop him, laughing, somehow silently but also hysterically, from stepping right onto the razor-thin tripwire stretched invisibly across the dark gravel.

In the kitchen, Dick was doing the numbers. He took his glasses off when Nix came in and put the coffee on. “He learned a thing or two from Charlie,” Nix said, leaning against the counters.

“Who, Joe?”

“Our driveway is thoroughly ratfucked.”

“Hmm,” said Dick. He put the glasses back on and turned back to the accounting book. He was going to do this whole thing as above board as was humanly possible. The vivid daylight came through the window and struck the lens of his unstylish Ray-Bans and threw a kind of prism of color upon the white paper and the chicken-scratch sums. Nix felt like maybe this was something you would paint if you had the necessary implements and artistic ability. “Maybe we should see if we can get any more help.”

-

He was mildly ashamed to say it, but the doc had always kind of creeped Nix out. He imagined a hypothetical conversation with Dick, who he knew loved the kid, almost like a son: Listen, don’t get me wrong, he’s a good kid, I owe him my life, yadda yadda. But either he’s dropped the brown acid one too many times or the voodoo exorcism went FUBAR.

The doc had arrived on the farm on the heels of Sunshine and Rainbows, aka Mr. Bright Eyed and Bushy Tailed, aka one Edward “Babe” Heffron. Nix had written Babe in South Philly, being as he was a connoisseur of bud and once upon a time had been famed among their company for smoking anything anyone put in his hand, often to his own detriment. The operation was getting big enough that Nix needed another pair of hands, other than Liebgott, of course, who was still fortifying the long driveway whilst giving away his cover by playing Led Zeppelin IV as loudly as was possible. It was a tough calculation, because Babe was a genius of pot, but he couldn’t keep a damn secret, and lo and behold he had dragged along with him a dark shadow in the human form of Eugene Roe. They came up the driveway in a big old Ford pickup that rattled its rust off in the potholes. Liebgott had dismantled the traps specially for their arrival when they had called from Williamsport to say they were an hour out.

“I figured we could use a medical professional to lend some credibility to the operation,” said Babe thoughtfully, sparking a joint on the porch over sweating jam jars of iced tea.

Roe snorted or something but it wasn’t really a normal person’s self-effacing laugh. Winters clapped his back. Nixon knew Roe had dropped out of medical school after two years but there was no need to say anything. Everyone knew that. Now he was working construction and Babe claimed to be working as a mechanic in a garage, but this seemed suspect given the state of the car they had driven up in.

“Well we sure as hell are glad you boys are here,” said Dick magnanimously.

Babe exhaled an opaque cloud that rivaled Nix’s own father’s ability with a stogie. “Can we see the bush?”

They went out all together to the field and ducked between the rows of corn. Babe knelt in the soil. It was damp with dew and quiet in here. It would have been almost like over there except it smelled good. “What’s the cross,” Babe said, inspecting the plants.

“It’s an indica blend…”

“Well, I can tell that,” he said.

“So you’re an expert on the plant now too?”

“I’ve just smoked an awful lot of joints in my life, Captain Nixon.”

Roe snorted again. When they all looked to him he said, “You said in the letter there was some kind of altruistic reason for all this.”

“It’s medicine, Gene,” Babe said gently, but also like they had had this conversation thirty thousand times. Nix filed away for later the intimation that Roe had read the letter he’d sent Babe at home in South Philadelphia.

“I guess you don’t remember the psychic break you had at the Do Lung Bridge.”

Babe waved this remark off, even though Nix remembered it too. It threw a chill down his back, like a water balloon had hit him at the base of his neck. “That was laced,” Babe said.

“With what!”

“I don’t know! Something bad!” Babe turned to Dick and Nix. “Gene’s teetotal,” he said, like this was a big old point of contention.

So that counted out the bad acid. Maybe he was just like this. Maybe he had had those big sad bug eyes as a child or an infant or a fetus in the womb. “Good on you, Doc,” Nix said.

“I ain’t trying it,” Roe said, folding his arms over his narrow chest, “no matter what it does.”

The doc was a tough cookie. Babe had claimed, over there, about as high as the Byrds song, that the doc came from a long line of the kind of folks described in Dr. John’s “Gris-Gris Gumbo Ya Ya” and that, as such, he could heal wounds with his mind. When it didn’t work, as on the night when Jackson died, or the night when Hoobler died, or in the forest when Muck and Penkala died, or the night when Liebgott stopped speaking, he went to sit for a while on the edge of camp until Dick went over and made him eat something. Nix watched them in a state of confused envy, and then he went to write the letters to the families, so that Dick wouldn’t have to.

At dusk, after they ate a light dinner of corn on the cob and rice and beans, he took the boys up into the hayloft with an armful of blankets. “Sorry this is the best we got,” he said. He had said that about a hundred god damn times since they got here.

Roe looked like he wanted to say, you’ve got to stop apologizing for everything. Instead he said, “Where does Lieb sleep.”

Babe perked up. “Joe’s here?”

“You didn’t see him in the driveway?”

Nix sighed. “He’s gonna want to know what he did wrong that you saw him,” he said.

“Does he still — ”

Nix shook his head. “Not a peep.”

In a couple days time, he couldn’t take it anymore, and he was hot and tired and stoned, up to his elbows in earth in the field, showing Babe how to replant the hatchlings he’d grown from seed. “You guys room together or what?”

“Me and Gene?” Babe’s eyes were red in the corners from smoking and from the sun. “What about you and Dick?”

Dick, who had the radio on inside turned up as loud as it would go, so that they would hear it in the field, playing Crosby Stills and Nash doing “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes.” “What about me and Dick?” said Nix.

Babe was a smart kid. He realized this was going nowhere. With muddy hands he popped one of the seedlings out of its little pot and cradled it into the ground. “Well, I think he thinks he’s looking after me, but in actuality, I am looking after him.”

[heckinhacker]

True Damage!Yasuo x reader - I’m glad you’re evil too.

A/N: I was inspired by Ashe's cover of “I'm glad you're evil too” and I absolutely loved it. Here goes nothing! There might be some errors, I’ve read it many times and can’t find anything anymore, but can happen. Sorry.

word count: 6,311 requested: no. warnings: Cursing, as in most of my posts. Welp~!^^ + It can be messy, I never wrote a long fic and english is being hard for me :(

Yasuo loved music since forever, and knew he was talented himself. Everyone around him praised him if he had shown them his own beats. He was DJ for every school party hosted, even volunteered to be on his own prom night, but everyone said he’s fine to go and party for once. 

He didn’t want to party, nor to dance.  He wanted to be behind the laughs and screams, making it fun for others.  He knew that he wasn’t very social. I mean, he was friendly, sometimes flirty, but social? He prefered reading mangas, watching animes and making music, this was all he wanted.

And that’s how the popular DJ works alone since forever. Loner genius who was out of reach for most of musicians. No one was worthy working with him. One didn’t had enough passion, other just wasn’t it. And he searched for something. 

Musical something was found with a rise of “Giants”, or so called “True Damage” group. They had something he searched in music, but why he still felt empty? 

Ekko and girls always asked him out: -After-party maybe, Yas? - Akali smiles while bending down a little to make that ‘sneaky-happy’ pose. - As if, I had some beat idea I need to work on, Akali. - he gives her a hand with a motion of ‘stop’ while saying no. And some other time: - Yo, bro, you up for a drink after recording? - Ekko stopped him before he went off for his break. - You can manage without me, Ekko. You have fun anyway. - murmured long haired man, avoiding eye contact. And another after some: - Don’t act all cold and mysterious, ninja, while you’re drooling over some drawn big-eyed girls and come on, you have nothing better to do! - huffed Qiyana, crossing her arms on chest. - Thanks for your not-asked-for opinion, princess. - and he added nothing more. That lasted, and the longer he avoided friendly meetings, Senna tried to talk up: - I’m worried about you, Yasuo. Want to take a walk? - you could feel her concern only by looking her into eyes. That’s kind of her, but... - Thank you, Senna, but you have bigger problems than my own on your head. How is your husband, by the way? - he didn’t meant to be rude, and Senna understood. - Lucian’s fine, he’d appreciate you asking, even though you talked only once. And you’re never a problem, remember. He only waved her away, heading to home, to do his own  things. He prefered it that way, or so he thought. 

With time, things he enjoyed stopped meaning anything. For example, which hurt him the most: He was so enthusiastic for Star Guardian series, but damn it, he stopped feeling happiness with every single update from mangaka. It hurt. He knew something was off, so he thought he’ll find himself correspondence buddy. Join some group connected to the series, noone will know he’s popular and will chat about Guardians as he’d love someone to and that’s what he did! TheUnforgiven01: hi. TheUnforgiven01: i’ll let myself into convo, if that’s fine. ezpezlemonsquez: That’s what that chat is for, of course! We were just discussing which group was better in many aspects, then compared aspect to the other. TheUnforgiven01: sounds fun, i guess? but it’s obvious ahri team’s better, they had more morality about disappearing, and ahri as the leader took a step of redemption for her stars, nothing to even try to compare to. [nick]: Oh okay. Your opinion is valid but actually is not. 

Yasuo raised his brow. Oh, someone’s mad? “Valid”, he’s mad now too. 

TheUnforgiven01: and that means? i’m right and you’re not, i suppose. you’re mad abt it? [nick]: Okay, Unforgiven, listen to me now. I am longer in this group and always argued morally about everything, but plain and stupid, unexplained opinions of stubborn kids like you just piss me off. What if someone find staying by rules more morally-right, huh? Ever consider that? TheUnforgiven01: if you’d like to die just because you were chosen by some glitter and glory of first star then fine, but some weren’t, they were normal teenagers under disguise, what about their families? ezpezlemonsquez: Guys, you’re starting to fight and it’s not cool, can you chill?? [nick]: They knew about the risk by agreeing! Being chosen is one, but agreeing is their own fucking choice!!!  TheUnforgiven01: and YOU’D be fine with dying, [nick] ? [nick]: Of course not! But anyone can die while saving the world, not because of losing a light, you know? If not that, there is the risk of being corrupted, like Xayah and Rakan, isn’t that right?? TheUnforgiven01: and it hurt, but they can be saved, and by dying officially you cannot do shit about it, yeah?  ShiningBrightTonite: If you won’t stop acting up I’ll have to mute you both until tomorrow, keep it down! TU, you just joined and make a fight right away, can you give me a reason to let you stay?

Yasuo’s hands twitched. He ALMOST dissed admin, and that would be it, poof and no corresponding buddy for him. He sighed deeply, took himself some longer moments and only typed. TheUnforgiven01: sorry. i’ll join next discussion and be all innocent and sweet, like newborn baby. [nick]: Newborns are wrinkly and ugly.  ShiningBrightTonite: [nick] !! [nick]: Just saying. TheUnforgiven01: aight, ama head out. 

~TheUnforgiven01 has left the chat~

That was it for today. 

Yasuo just took a quick shower, ate one sandwich and went to sleep, while blasting music on his headphones. Way to deal with his nerves.

About your side…

Generally you’re the angel of this community, you’re always passionate and calm about others opinion, but this dude just pressed the wrong button by his like...third message? No one saw you this mad, and this group had many dramas which YOU were most of the times reason to stop, but now? Some admins laughed about that in admin chatroom with you about it, but let you be with a slight warning, friendly nudge on the arm with ‘don’t do that next time, he’s new and doesn’t know how to hang on things, ya kno?’ So you went with it. Even decided to apolagize to this dude in pm. The question was: today or tomorrow? Tomorrow sound more appealing, but if you do it now, you won’t have to do that tomorrow, so it’s now. You sighed deeply, it’s been an hour and a half, so you hoped he’s cooled down too. 

[nick]: Sorry to bother you in your “private message” zone, but I thought about all this situation and I’m sorry for how I acted, really? Not like all fault was mine, we both know that, it’s just...I shouldn’t had curse and stuff. I’m not generally bad, I hope you don’t hold any grudge to me. We’ll chat on a group, ye? 

…

And no answer. Maybe he is that furious? You sure hoped he wasn’t. Or she. Or anyone that was. With a heavy sigh you stood up, got yourself warm cup of tea to chill a little bit more. You’ll go to sleep...eventually. 

By sleep you mean passing out on your desk, face down. Your poor arms...and back...it’ll hurt, that’s for sure. Watching Netflix till late was a bad idea. Good thing it’s weekend, right? Your day of freedom from responsibilities! 

What time is it…?

You locked your eyes on your room’s clock which was 6 minutes late from time but you’re too lazy to fix that. It was - according to your always late clock - 01:06 pm. You still felt sleepy, but it’ll be fine, right? Slowly, you rubbed your wake-up tears from your eyes and looked at screen in front of you. A few pings from group chat from admin role and one private message. Huh, neat, time to eat- hold on, wait a minute. Private message? You sat up straightly and clicked on it right away. This is this unforgiven fella! After you wrote this short message you grinned weakly and went off of your room to wake up properly.

TheUnforgiven01: no problem, it’s nice how you defend what you believe in.  TheUnforgiven01: am sorry too.  TheUnforgiven01: not sure if i am good at chatting in group, but we always can hit each other up here? TheUnforgiven01: if you want to TheUnforgiven01: and i didn’t mean to sound weird TheUnforgiven01: ah whatever, answer here if you want or not, bye.

You made yourself your favourite breakfast, ate and thought about this little spam that person did. Kinda cute, maybe they’re self-concious, and joining chatting group was overhelming? You’ll answer after refreshing cup of [coffee/tea/hot chocolate], you promised yourself. You never write to anyone before morning cup. To summarize  your morning routine, the hot drink had to be in your now favourite cup. Earlier one got shattered into pieces by your unaware of consequences cat. You weren’t mad at it, but at yourself for leaving the cup on windowsill instead of hiding it properly. That kind of sad event for you made you buy this cup from that new music group you enjoyed listening to. True Damage, wasn’t it? You never liked rap, but this boy Ekko nailed stuff. You loved everyone equally in this group, but never understood that long-haired, masked (you assumed) asian man and his influence. He was there, maybe he made the music in the background, compositor? He seemed too mysterious for you, but meh. He fit group’s aesthetic, and you were sure he had his place in there, and it’s fine. Maybe you figure it out once you see them live, since, what a shocker, they had a tour around the world and were not only in your country, but in your town too! They'll be here in like… 6 months from now? You can't wait! Bonus to that: No long trip ahead of you, just buying tickets and going, you were hyped for that.

Meanwhile this waterfall of thoughts you managed to drink and eat everything, and as responsible as you can get, you washed the dishes right away, going back to your PC to answer this maybe-shy fella.

[nick]: Didn’t figured you’d like to talk ‘privately’, but whatever floats your boat ;)  TheUnforgiven01: i changed my mind, don’t write to me again. [nick]: Hey, hey! I was just joking around, don’t be like that! :(( TheUnforgiven01: i am unforgiven, and you are too in this situation. TheUnforgiven01: i honestly joined to make one friend in this group and leave TheUnforgiven01: and didn’t got any chance of meeting anyone else but you TheUnforgiven01: and you wrote to me first into priv, so that’s the start. TheUnforgiven01: can it stay like that?  TheUnforgiven01: if we won’t like each other it’s chill to just say oficial bye and stop, just sayin. [nick]: As for someone who types so fast you don’t make that much of typos, isn’t that amazing?  TheUnforgiven01: maubie. TheUnforgiven01: maybe* TheUnforgiven01: fuck you just jinxed it. 

You genuely laughed by this little mistake, you didn’t saw that coming and it amused you. You weren’t much of a talkative person yourself, but writing to someone, not seeing their face and such was much easier. And consequences of making yourself of a fool are much smaller than knowing someone from the same - let’s assume - town. [nick]: I’m sorry I did, but the moment I picked to say that was funny, wasn’t it? Nothing to be ashamed off, it often happens to me too! TheUnforgiven01: didn’t saw you make a typo yet. [nick]: Because I’m giving way too much attention not to do a typo since I want to make a good impression on you. Sounds good? TheUnforgiven01: … TheUnforgiven01: sounds good, relatable actually. 

Well, now at least you know you’re stuck in the same situation. 

And that awkward situation was two weeks ago. 

Now? Now you’re talking daily. From all you know, your, as he called it - corresponding buddy - is a very busy he. He didn’t revealed his real name, which you assumed that he’s embarassed about it. You told him what you’re doing in life generally, while he just said he’s normal, let me quote: “big-ass adult who lives with parents but work in some fast-food, at least i’m trying.” which was cool for you, at least he didn’t lock himself in his parents’ basement. Unforgiven was a chill dude and at the beginning you thought he’d only hit you up with Star Guardian topics, but later? You started talking about yourselves, about other interests. 

[nick]: Hey? [nick]: I assume you’re busy today, again… [nick]: I was wondering, what are you busy with? I mean, you said you work on some fast-food place, then sit in your room, are you gaming? I’d understand that, I was just...thinking. [nick]: Sorry if I seem pushy, it’s just that I really grew on chatting with you and was wondering when are you free again! Heh.  [nick]: We’ll talk later, then, hit me up when you can!

You pushed yourself back on your chair, groaning. You totally were pushy, but didn’t meant to - that’s what you thought, but it’s totally normal, you’re just interested with someone you just met. You chatted with a lot of persons in the group, etc. but no one had your interest pointed directly at them, that’s a big something. You kinda felt like you’re opening too fast for him too, and you had no clue if that’s ok. You cover your eyes with hands, overthinking your situation with unnamed male. When your thoughts started to be not too pleasant you heard your communicator's sound going off. As fast as you pushed yourself back, you were that fast in front of your PC. 

TheUnforgiven01: i have a break now.  TheUnforgiven01: i'm sorry [nick], I am not ignoring you on purpose.  TheUnforgiven01: i enjoy talking to you too, don't ever think oterwide  TheUnforgiven01: otherwise* TheUnforgiven01: we'll talk about that later.  TheUnforgiven01: now, how are you? i hope i didn't made you sad.  [nick]: No, no! It's OK! I understand you have a real life too, I assume a real life friends too. That's normal, that's okay.  TheUnforgiven01: i like you. i can consider you as my friend, but.  [nick]: But?  TheUnforgiven01: but you should not consider me as yours.  [nick]: What t? Why?/?? / TheUnforgiven01: my break's over, i gtg. i'll catch you later.  [nick]: Okay, later! 

Your hands twitched uncontrollably after that weird message. What did he mean? You're his friend but he's not yours? It kinda worried you, but you went to do your stuff until he has time to talk. Maybe it sounds cliché but you wait impatiently until he starts a chat with you and you know each other for only two weeks. 

It made you worry about your friend. Maybe he has some troubles you don't know about for sure? You only had to hope it's not gang involved. You were sure to later tell a few words to him. 

You ate out with one of your friends, just to eat, chill around. As you weren't sure what to do generally about "unforgiven situation", you decided to ask her:  - Uh,  it's kinda awkward, but can I ask you for advice? -  you ask.   - Oh of course! What's going inside of your pretty little head?   - So I met someone on my group-  - Nerd group? -  she interrupted.   - Yeah, that one. -  you admitted with defeat. Honestly, no matter what you say, she still keeps on going with nerd club. -  And there was that guy, he started arguing with me. Later we apologized to each other and now we're chatting for two weeks everyday, but about how much do we write depends if he's free or not. Today he said something odd, have a look. 

You moved your phone so your friend can see mysterious message from Unforgiven. She sighed and then looked at you with that pity look of hers.   - What?   - Honey, swettie… you have two options. One: he's really trying to make you think of him. Two: he really means it. You should start off with "I'm worried about you!" and tell him how you really feel.   - Okay. Okay… I just. I don't know what's going on with him.   - Why are you so moved of that? You know each other for only two weeks. Are you… Crushing on him?!?!   - WHAT? Nonononono, you got that wrong, I just want to get to know him! That's all, really!   - Uh-huh! When he's free today, you get him, tiger! Just won't get into any trouble, sweetheart. 

You sighed, then smiled at her, closing your eyes in satisfaction.  You're a lot calmer now.  "Thank you, [friends name].” You said, until you both went back on chatting about everything. 

And when you were back? You dressed yourself to home wearing, sat down comfortably on the couch and checked your phone. Unforgiven actually wrote to you first! And a lot. 

TheUnforgiven01: hey. TheUnforgiven01: sorry I had to go all of sudden, work stuff, had shorter break.  TheUnforgiven01: i don’t want you to think i don't want to get to know you, i do.  TheUnforgiven01: it's just hard for me, ‘n stuff.  TheUnforgiven01: we'll get to it, please give me some time.  TheUnforgiven01: you'll know everything about me in no time, just give me some and we'll be friends, true ones.  TheUnforgiven01: if you'd want to, ofc.  TheUnforgiven01: hit me up when you're back from your little date. 

You gave into every single message a lot of focus. You weren't sure what to say at first, but decided to just go for it. 

[nick]: It's OK! I was worried about you, but if you say I'll get to know all the things about you in time, I'll go with it! But remember this one thing: I consider you as my friend, no matter what. We'll get through your insecurities and secrets, I'll be patiently waiting! 

[nick]: And it was NOT a DATE. I was out with my friend!! >:( TheUnforgiven01: yeah, sure, you playa. TheUnforgiven01: better be good.  [nick]: Very funny!  TheUnforgiven01: for me it is.  [nick]: Aren't you tired after work? You don't want to sleep?  TheUnforgiven01: i thought you genuinely missed me, buy you want me out right now.  TheUnforgiven01: now i'm sad.  [nick]: It's not like that! I'm just worried about you, goofball.  TheUnforgiven01: sure, explain yourself even more. TheUnforgiven01: only guilty explain themselves.  [nick]: Come on!! D: TheUnforgiven01: i can chat for a bit and then go. 

You chatted and chatted, slowly getting to know his character, but he still remained as Unforgiven, unnamed boy you slowly, but in agony, fell for. It's been three months from your first encounter. 

You wonder how are you going to ask him about a next step in your friendship. It is, indeed, hard. Good question is why are you the first to ask? It almost hurt imagining yourself with blank space, nor even voice known to begin with. You fell hard for dude you only know behind Unforgiven, and wanted to hear his voice. You were ready for him to decline, but you won't know without trying. 

He said he'll be back pretty late today, and he may not write, but he left you a warning pretty early in the morning. You weren't sure why did he woke up so early, but you just shrugged it, saying that he must be in some other time zone. You didn't even knew where he is from, this man is a big mystery for you.

You waited for him to come back in your bed, before sleeping.  You had to ask that question now or never, you know if you'll put it for tomorrow you want do that anytime soon. It has to be done. It was 2am now and your eyelids were getting heavy. Reading books or literally anything wasn't helping at all, and when your body demands rest. You almost drifted to sleep, but then

Ding! 

It was him, before sleep you assumed. No matter what you did you always wrote to each other, even stupid "goodnight for later, I'm going to sleep now, be sure to rest enough." was there. 

Your eyes were wide open and you moved your hand to the phone way too fast as for almost sleeping person. 

TheUnforgiven01: hey.  TheUnforgiven01: i'm aftwr work TheUnforgiven01: i am really tires ya kno TheUnforgiven01: fuck typos in lsrticilar  [nick]: Particular?  TheUnforgiven01: you're not asleep yet? damn  [nick]: I was kinda waiting for you, you know?  TheUnforgiven01: oh really? what's the occasion? [nick]: It's… I have a question for you.  TheUnforgiven01: aight, give me your shot.  [nick]: Would you like to… agh it's stupid.  TheUnforgiven01: no, go ahead.  [nick]: We write with each other for a while now and I was wondering if…  [nick]: If you'd like to make a phone call, maybe? Or, voice call, anything really? No personal questions, just five minute chatting about anything. Promise? 

Yasuo hesitated for a longer bit. Should he agree? He don't use his voice in his recordings, so maybe he should? He treats this person like someone close, so why should he avoid them like a plague? He saw little mark above chat window which suggested you furiously were typing. He sighed, smiling softly to his phone's screen. 

TheUnforgiven01: it's alright,don't worry.  TheUnforgiven01: we can chat a bit.  TheUnforgiven01: we can call here, you know. for you to avoid any additional payment. 

You sigh with relief. Okay, he did agree. What now?? Holy shit. You were more than nervous. You didn't saw that coming and because of all of this you forgot to answer him. You almost jumped when you got another message. 

TheUnforgiven01: i'll call first, since i see you're nervous.  TheUnforgiven01: i'll hit you up in 5 min. answer me by then. 

It maybe was stupid, but you checked yourself in the mirror, almost like before date. You fixed your hair, checked if nothing was stuck between your teeth, wash your face, and your time slipped between your fingers, your phone was ringing with typical for your communicator song. You jumped, then panicked, then jumped beside your phone and slowly answered your call before it ended sending a signal.

- H...hello? - your voice croaked out of nervousness. You mentally slapped your forehead, classical facepalm. - Hi. - you heard calm voice with that tune of tiredness, that little growl at the end. His voice was soft, warm, pleasant. You smiled right away. - Damn, you sound so chilled out while I am...wow. I am a blushing mess right now, I wanted this but don’t know what to say to you! Like, wow!   - Maybe start with how was your day? I’d love to hear that. - that was just an excuse, but you didn’t knew that.  - Oh...kay. It was fine. Boring, to be honest. Woke up, drank [tea/coffee/hot chocolate] from this True Damage cup I once told you about, went out, made my boring everyday routine, was thinking how I should ask you about talking, then went back home, bored my ass off on some documentaries and here we are, talking!  - Sounds fun. - he commented shortly. Even if it might sound like he doesn’t care, you understood that he just was like that. That stupid feeling.  - Maybe you’ll tell me something you did today? - Something I’d love to do, but I must avoid that. Not today, [nick]. - Call me [y/n], okay? That’s my real name. You don’t have to tell me yours! I’d like you to call me [y/n] though. - That’s a nice name. Like the sound of it. - his goddamn voice will be the end of yours. You sighed loudly with this goofy smile. - Thank you so much. So, if not the day, tell me something you actually can share. - I was thinking about you today. - he shot these words right through your heart.  - O-Oh? Re-really? - you stuttered, hating yourself for that.  - Heheh, yeah. - he chuckled, making you forget about hating your stutter since it made him laugh in this tone. This goddamn tone. - Was thinking if you were alright. And because your pathetic ass was distracting me from work, my boss forced me to go on break! Used it to smoke, but none then less, thanks. - Hey, your bad for wandering off in work! And quit smoking, dumbass! - you scolded him, ending this “”very serious”” scold with a laugh, which Yasuo answered with louder, honest laugh. You were all red by now. - God, it’s good talking to you. Let’s do that more often. Not every day, but...you know. More often. - O-okay. Okay, sure. Cool. - you answered,trying to kill this little squeal in your throat. - I’ll have to go to sleep, [y/n]. Sleep well, ok? - No promise, but you have a rest. Thank you, again. For agreeing. - Heh. No problem, I am glad I did agree too. Sleep tight. - another chuckle, then hanging up sound.

Well, what can I say. This was the most emotion-forcing call you ever had. He wished you good night, you had trouble falling asleep. 

Generally speaking, you had a talk like that once in three days. The big day of concert was coming, so you decided to ask Unforgiven if he is interested in coming too. You’re searching for a chance of meeting him in real life. 

Yasuo expected from incoming call anything but question what was awaiting him. He was having a flight with a band to [town’s name] in next three days, so he had to tell you he can’t really talk as you both always do. When he heard a communicator’s song, he pressed answer button right away, smiling to his phone like you could see he’s happy to see you. - Hewwo? - he answered in very forced squeaky voice, which made you erupt with laughter. - Hey, goofball. How was your day? - Lazy. Was distracted a lot, I was waiting for out call before sleep. So, what’s new? - Today was okay’ish, you know? I’m not even that tired. Maybe being excited makes me go cray-cray.  - Psh, good. - he looked at himself in the mirror, seeing how wide his smile was. Almost concerning.  - Hey, dude? - Hm?  - Are you...by any chance, going to see True Damage in [Town’s name]? I never asked you about your music taste but I was wondering. Wondering that if you’d be here...maybe we’ll meet? ‘Cuz, you know. I’ll be here.  - I- - his voice was stuck in his throat. Oh. Shit. Fuckfuckfuck. Not good. What now?  -...you? Are you okay?  - Ahm- yes, it’s just that. You’re...hella right. I will be there.  - OH REALLY? - you asked unecessarly too loud, then cleared your throat. - A-and...you’d like to meet?  - Uhhh… - fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck -  Yeah. Sure. I’d love to finally see you. Can you imagine this feeling? We don’t know how we look, so finding each other would be insane, but can you imagine the result?  - Me, asking some random dudes “Hey, are you Unforgiven?” ? No, let’s send each other selfies, maybe? - Nah, I’d love to see you embarrass yourself. - HEY!  - Okay, okay. I promise we’ll find each other. I won’t go home until we do. - Promise you won’t leave me out? - Promise.  - Thank you. I’ll go to sleep, so we’ll catch up later, ok? By- he cut you out. - Wait, [y/n]. I have to tell you something real quick.  - Yeah? - you pulled your phone back to ear. - I won’t be too available around these days. But at the day of concert I’ll call you in the morning. I won’t be in any reach of connection, I hope you understand. - Uh..okay. Thank you for telling me. Good night, sleep tight. - ‘Night. 

You hung up. It’s alright, it’s ok. Nothing to sweat. You’ll only meet your crush in three days only. 

OKAY NEVERMIND IT IS AMAZING. You - thankfully - fell asleep pretty fastly. 

To be fair, these three days? Were going through slow in agonizing way, but when the day of concert hit up, your heart was racing since you woke up. You had that five minute talk with Unforgiven, as he promised, assuring you that he is going to be there for sure. After you hung up, you started preparing yourself! You wore your best clothes, made sure you look stunning but not too overrated and just dived into it! You gladly told your friend you’re meeting your crush, informing her with that she’s not forced to go see True Damage with you anymore. She was more of Pentakill person, and it was alright. She wanted to go along since she knew how “un-funny” would it be without her, but you knew her real motive was you not feeling alone. So when she acknowledged that you’re not going to be alone, she said she’s glad she doesn’t have to listen to Ekko and Qiyana’s rapping. Well, good noone is forced.

At first,you wanted to find Unforgiven right away, but gave up and focused on music experience. You wanted to be there beside him, but well, maybe he lost connection again and couldn’t hit you up. And you had hell of a fun in there! But somewhere deep inside you were worried that he just tricked you and will never show up or tell you where he is exactly. 

True Damage’s crew said final goodbyes and after some stumbles, it was quiet on stage. Everyone kept cheering or talking, sometimes screaming unecessarly. Still, not a single sight of Unforgiven. Well, at least you got to know what this long haired guy was doing in the crew. Epic T-pose and manipulated music with this sword looking thingy. Amazing effects. You decided to find yourself sitting place somewhere, staring at your phone screen. No message, no missed calls, not anything. It made you sad, that’s true, but maybe he’ll catch up? You waited. And waited.

And waited.

And the more you waited, the more you felt tears getting into your eyes. You were ready to burst into sobbing mess, but then your phone rang. This stupid communicator song. You answered up right away with little sniff” - Where the hell are you? You said that- - I know, [y/n]. I am here, let me instruct you where I am right now. Where are you? - You should be one searching for me, you know? I almost thought you weren’t coming, what’s up with that? - you unintentionally raised your voice, letting out a sob meanwhile that. Yasuo felt so bad now. - Listen...I’ll tell you everything. Everything will be explained when you’ll see me. I hope you’ll forgive me. If not, it’ll be this “official goodbye” moment, can you trust me this one last time? - ...fuck. Fuck, okay. I am on the bench close to food truck. You? - Stand up then, go to the barriers understage.  - Understage…? Alrigt, wh-atever you say.

You blindly went in there, trusting this man “for the last time”, as he said. You’d give him the last chance he’s begging for. You stood here like an idiot, alone with stages lights shining on your face. No one in sight. - I hope you’re not joking… - How would I know where should you go then? - Point...it’s just that- - Shh. It’s ok. You head to the left now if you’re facing the stage. Tell me when you’re done. - … done…? - Okay. now open this little metal gate and get through. - Wha-what?? Why would I? Securities will kick me out if they find out! - They won’t. It’s ok.  -You’re...one of the security guards, right?  - Information when you get there. come on in.  - You were so anxious about this situation. It just seems sketchy. He never revealed any information about him, maybe spread some lies you believed in. Who was this dude now? Was everything you knew a lie? - And? I don’t see anyone. - Are you wearing [your fav. hoodie/flannel/whatever you want it to be!]?  - U-uh? Yeah, and you’re…? - Turn around, goof. I am standing right there. - … - you felt your heart stop, you weren’t able to breathe. You slowly turned around to see noone else than this mysterious japanese DJ you had a chance to see on stage. What- how- that were questions which were going almost like on loop in your head. - Stunned, huh? - he commented into the phone, then took it off of his face and ended call. It confirmed that it was him too - at the same time his phone went dark after single tap, your call ended. 

You didn’t even got to give out bigger reaction. You just met him! Screw that he’s popular and hid his identity from you! For now. You ran into his arms and squeezed him, now sobbing like mad. 

- You FUCKER! You could’ve said ANYTHING! All these secrets, what for! I kinda understand but- FUCK! - you shouted into his shoulder while he squeezed you in almost bone crushing hug. - I’m sorry, ok? - and it was his voice, sounded almost the same. Holy shit. - I’m so, so sorry, [y/n]. But at least I can be honest? - Then please be. Tell me everything you wanted to say. - It’ll be long, trust me, but well. Here goes nothing. - he put his hand on your cheek and clears your face from those tears you shed because of him. - I...wanted to tell you my name after like two weeks. I got worried you’ll find out after we talk some, so I did avoid personal information. While I was at it, I never wanted to lie. About my work and my day. I just lied at the beginning, then regret it deeply, but felt like I couldn’t take that back. [y/n]- fuck- I just- I didn’t wanted to be treated differently. I am popular and most people stop seeing a human in me because I’m a celebrity! It hurt me to avoid you getting to know me - heck, it hurt me to see you avoiding asking me about personal stuff because you understood. I appreciated it, but it hurt you had to remain silent while you were curious as hell, I assume. You wanted to hear me out, treated me like I am just like you, reached out to me. I grew on that, I want… I don't want to lose you. Please, forgive me.  - I… it's… it's okay. I should call you…  - Yasuo. It's Yasuo, [y/n].  - I'll get to know you all over, just be honest with me.  You're still human and I want to be close to you. I… ah. I'll just let it out pleasedon'thateme. I… fell for you. Hard. You were a bug mystery for me but still wanted to be around me. I kept still since you're pretty important to me. Thank you for being there by this 6 months, let's continue whatever we have between each other. Please. 

… 

Yasuo moved his mask down to capture your face between his hands and kissed you, it seemed like a rough start, but kiss was soft, magical. You just smoothed, nibbling on your lips. Yasuo was now thanking you a lot, which you only replied with weak laughs and pats on his back. He promised he'll keep you as close as he can. 

Yasuo had to continue his tour around the world with True Damage, but promised he'll take a lot of day off so he can work up lost time with you. It's been a month and you wait for him almost like wife waiting for her husband's return after military duty. 

Yasuo took two weeks off, but if he'll need more -  it'll be for you to decide. You were spending today inside since it was raining. It was dark outside already, the only source of light was candles in living room. Yasuo was holding you close to himself, moving side to side, swaying gently, adoring your every inch of face. - Lately I found this song on youtube, it was originally from vocaloid.it kind off remind me of us.  - Vocaloid song? You know true meaning of lyrics for sure, tell me about it then!  - I can sing a part of it for you, if you'd want to?  - You can sing?  - Of course! I just don't use it for my songs. Everyone else sing much better, my voice is too…  - Too sexy for the world?  - Hahaha, maybe! Want to check out for sure? I'll sing in English for you.  - Sheesh, what a nerd. Okay, give me your best shot. 

Yasuo took a deep breath in, and made sure before he starts to sing he looks into your eyes. He started like he was unsure, but with time he sang wholeheartedly. 

"Though both of us will die one day

Though this life is useless anyway

When you're here by my side, you make me feel like it'll be okay

And yet we laughed despite it all

At this life which has no meaning at all

Two lonely and broken souls leaning on each other's sides

I'm glad that you're you, that I'm me, and for us two

I'm kinda glad that you're evil too"

While he was pouring his emotion on you, you felt your chest clench and tear up after intensity of his voice, he gave it out truly like he meant it.  You saw he wasn't done, so you tried to remain calm. 

"When the day starts anew, hope I spend it with you-" 

You felt your cheeks burn with your tears pouring down whole you smiled widely at him. He was singing loudly, forgetting about embarrassment. 

"I'm glad that I fell in love with you."

From today, this song made by PinnocchioP was more than important for both of you. It felt like it was especially made for you, and you both loved it. 

[thatlittledandere]

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, 15, 16, 17, 20, 21, 22, 23, 25, 26, 27, 31 and 40 for that shipper ask meme (sorry for picking so many but those questions are GOOD)

You're right, they absolutely are. I'm sorry in advance that this is gonna be LONG and I'm on mobile so I can't even add a read more;;

1. Talk about the first ship you ever had

So I'm SURE there were relationships I was invested in in movies and cartoons I watched as a child (I've always been a sucker for romance, even though there was that period when I didn't want to admit it) but I can't remember anything from very far back;; So it was either Ron and Hermione from Harry Potter or Ichigo and Masaya from Tokyo Mew Mew, whichever I read first.

2. Talk about three of the most important ships throughout your life

GOSH. You can't do this to me. I guess Romione because it was the time in my preteens when I was becoming more aware of... stuff, in general, abs the two cemented my love for friends-to-lovers. Then Ioryuu, because I've never been AS invested in and passionate about a ship before and likely never will. Nothing can compare to that intensity and ngl I miss it;; I miss the genuine hype I felt in my heart that made me interact with people and make things. So many things. I honestly can't think of a third one with such a lasting impact, sorry;;

3. What's your current OTP?

I imagine Souyo scenarios in my head every night before falling sleep and every morning after waking up, this is not a joke not an exaggeration. I still feel a little traitorous saying this on tumblr but their dynamic IS somewhat similar to the way I see Ioryuu so-

4. What's your current NoTP?

I don't think I have one? I have dislikes, some of them strong, but I don't see any of them often enough to be, like, actively angry. I have better uses for my time than willingly exposing myself to stuff I don't like.

5. Do you have any poly ships?

Not generally, juggling two characters is enough work lol. The only poly ships I've ever really actively shipped are Niels, Duncan and Natalie from the web comic Niels And the Gang by humon and Kinatsuen from Boueibu, but neither are actively on my mind much these days.

8. Have you ever shipped yourself with a character?

BOY HAVE I EVER. I've seen someone on tumblr have a side blog for self-shopping and not gonna lie, it's an excellent idea. My late teens were spent reading character x reader fics on Quotev and I started my fic career with the same genre. I don't really know what to do with myself when I DON'T actively ship myself with a character, which is my state of being now that Yosuke surpassed Yoosung as my favorite character;; Ibushi and Yoosung are the biggest ones but man oh boy I have shipped myself with characters from early age and I'm showing no signs of stopping! There's a reason that I main dating sims.

15. Have you ever "shipped at first sight"?

Not for long. I SUCK at forming first impressions. Usually if I start thinking I'll ship something, I end up not being so invested in it after all, and instead shipping something I swore off at first lmao. Which leads us to...

16. Talk about a ship you initially disliked

As a rule of thumb, all of them. I don't understand HOW it keeps happening but somehow almost all the ships I truly care/d about (that I didn't start shipping through osmosis before knowing them in the source material) started out as something I thought I "wouldn't be able to get behind." Gajevy. Shikatema. Sasunaru. Doctor/Rose. Karabita. Atsutodo. Kiribaku. Yoozen. Enatsu. Freaking IORYUU. EVEN SOUYO. IT'S BEEN YEARS I REALLY SHOULD KNOW THE PATTERN BY NOW

17. Talk about a pairing you've stopped shipping romantically

Like, I started to think they're better as friends after all? I guess NaLi. Then again, I mostly only shipped them out of spite in the first place because I wanted a counter for N/a//Lu, which I never liked at all;;

20. Talk about a ship you feel alone in shipping

Now this time I can say for sure that there isn't one. I can't come up with ships myself and stay on board if there isn't content for it, canon or otherwise;; It's not a conscious decision or anything, it's just how my mind works. I get attached to stuff by exposure, whether from fans or the source material, and if the source material has enough content for two characters for me to pick up on and become interested, it's guaranteed to be enough to become a somewhat popular ship.

21. Is there a ship you just don't get, but have nothing against?

Actually... That's the extent I go to with notp'ing these days. I'm passionate about the right to ship whatever you want so by proxy I can't have anything "against" a ship, even if the sheer thought of it existing makes me nauseous. And I know how to think from points of view other than my own, so I can usually see the appeal, even if it appeals to me personally less than eating dog shit while walking barefoot on rusty nails that are also on fire.

That said, the only ships I have on my Tumblr blacklist are Yoo//ra/n and Suza//lu/lu because they're both popular ships for characters whose tags I am/was following and therefore get suggested a lot even if I want following anyone who ships then. Oh, and all B/LMa//tsu ships! I generally can't feel good about incestuous ships, but can and will fight for their shippers' right to do as they please as long as they stay respectful. (never saw blmatsus who weren't respectful. saw a plethora of anti-blmatsus who were absolute demons. actually the reason i moved away from the last remnants of my anti mindset was that i didn't want to be associated with THOSE anti-blmatsus, when the shippers they wanted dead were all such sweet people. food for thought.)

22. Which of your ships have the best chemistry?

All of them?? Lmao I don't understand this question, isn't shipping all about liking the chemistry between characters? Or the potential for it I guess, in which case the chemistry is whatever you want it to be, which is great B) I'm sorry I keep accidentally dodging questions I'm bad at choosing examples from a long, unordered list

23. Which of your ships deserve better writing?

Hhhhhhh I shipped Jerza for years and was still unsatisfied with their ending, Jellal didn't get to heal enough and we didn't really see them working through their past in an effective way and getting comfortable around each other. It's like they were supposed to be friends to enemies to lovers but the last part didnt really develop and their relationship stagnated at the stage were they were both just permanently awkward out of regret, and couldn't bring themselves out of it even though everything was forgiven forever ago. Or I've forgotten a lot of stuff that happened. Very likely. Is your a case of bad writing or good writing not working out the way I wanted it to? You're asking the wrong person.

25. Have you ever shipped a pairing before you even started watching the show/movie simply because of gifs/graphics or similar?

EYUP. Harumichi was my otp for like a whole year before I saw a single episode with them lol. It was crazy, but it was REAL. I've also went into shows already paying attention to things I knew my friends/people I follow shipped, kind of hoping I'd get into it.

26. Have you noticed a pattern in your shipping? Is there a romantic dynamic I'm writing these questions down from screenshots and I cropped the rest of this one out by accident rip

Eeeh I go for the obvious. Best friend pairs, obvious pining, some rivalry with sexual tension, though I don't really know what to do with those. Then there's the fact that I never see it coming sick Persona 5 reference bro and start shipping the couple I thought "should just be friends" at first. This is more about my relationship to the ships than their dynamic but it's very constant...

27. Is there a ship you've shipped for most of your life?

Hmmm well I got into HP and started shipping Romione sometime in mid elementary school so it's definitely been more than half my lifetime since, but I don't really know if I "ship it" anymore. I didn't start disliking them or anything but for me, "shipping" is an active intrest in a fictional relationship, so if it reaches the stage where I like it, in theory, but I don't have the feels, it doesn't really count. That's why I can say I like ships without shipping them. It's gotta be actively on my brain, man.

31. Talk about one of your favorite headcanons for a ship you love

I haven't mentioned Kannao once, which is criminal. So here's some of what I imagine their future to be like :D I've been getting new Persona followers recently so here's something for you to unfollow me over lmao

So first of all I ignore the canon that Naoto goes back to the city for her detective work after her first year of high school, shhh she stays in Inaba, only taking the occasional jobs. She and Kanji start dating during the spring break before their second year and get more comfortable with each other, so that the next summer they're still cute and very much themselves (which means somewhat reserved) but not as awkward anymore :) I haven't thought about what happens after they graduate but they get married in their early 20s and have a son <3 (Chie and Yukiko adopted their daughter only slightly earlier. They may or may not have had a bit of a competition going on) ((yes Souyo are very much together but if they end up having children I haven't thought about it it's later))

Kanji manages the textile shop and Naoto helps when she's free from detective stuff. They live in Inaba but Naoto is away quite often for her gigs;; She takes up a few jobs less when Kouta is little though so he wouldn't feel less close to his Mom than his Dad.

Both Kanji and Naoto suffered from unfair expectations growing up, so they try their best to make up for it with Kouta's upbringing. They want him to feel comfortable being himself and free to express himself the way he wants; they make sure he knows he'll always be loved and supported, and to never be ashamed of who he is. As a child it doesn't even occur to him that many social norms and social expectations exist, because Naoto and Kanji pretty much let him do whatever as long as he isn't hurting himself or anyone else. They might go a little overboard though, giving into Kouta's whims without much consideration at all. The Amagi Aunties enforce rules and keep kids grounded in reality much better lmao

40. If you could change one thing about your otp, what would that be?

HMNGHNMHGNMGH I WAMT YOSUKE'S INTERNALIZED BULLSHIT ACKNOWLEDGED!! It's there AtlUS!! Stop pretending oh my god.... I love the Dancing All Night story mode (so far. I am by no means done); Yosuke gets cool moments and Yu's internal monologue really shows how much he appreciates him. The dynamic is so much better than with a silent protagonist, and thank god they didn't go with the tactless anime Yu (as fun as he is). I know there are a bunch of nods to the cut romance across spinoffs but mannnn... I wish they were more serious about it. At this point it's not even that far-fetched to think Yosuke has feelings for Yu that he may or may not be aware of, and I know that Yu as the player character can't be too tied down to one option in canon, but still... Even the clown gets tired of jokes at some point. One can dream.

40 ship questions

[19jikook9597]

End Of Year Post

Wow, it's already the third year I make such a post, time really flies!

2019 really was the shittiest year I experienced so far. I don't know where to begin, I don't even know if I should begin or not. Well.

This year was a very long and painful one for me.

The first thing I wanna tell you about is uni. I got my bachelor's degree and started a master. I was foolish to think it would be easy considering the subject I studied during three long years: Turkish. Like there would be any seminar about turkish linguistics. A few teachers helped me but it wasn't enough. To be honest, it was hard from the beginning of 2019 but not from the beginning of the school year. January was the moment I realised I wouldn't make it through. I slowly began to develop anxiety about uni and it was hell because I really loved going to uni, I've always loved learning things. It took me a lot of time to finally stop going to class. You see, we were until very soon 6 in my family and my dad is the only one working. It wasn't much but it still helped when my dad's salary wasn't enough. So, I forced myself to go to class for that damn scholarship until it became too much. I had a panic attack in the middle of a class and went home early. I decided then to stop going to uni, for my health. It didn't please my mom but I didn't care. Anyway.

The second thing I wanna talk about is friendship. You know how the Spice Girls sang about how friendship lasts forever? Well, I wish it was true. I lost a couple of friends this year and especially one that was very important to me. The fact she stopped talking to me all of a sudden really hurt but what hurt the most was to realise that all the "I love you's" and nice things she told me were lies. I was really sad at first but thinking about it now I think I'm better off without her. I don't wanna be friends with a liar. Everyone who knows me even a little knows that I'd never ever lie to my friends.

I'm not telling you all of this for you to pity me or whatever, I just felt the need to get it out of my chest because there are a lot of people I care deeply for even though it may not be mutual.

2019 wasn't only bad, of course not. Even though I quit uni, I learned a lot of very interesting and useful things and I also met a lot of important people. I made very good friends too and I'd like to thank all of you for being my friends and bearing with my stupid ass ><

To begin with the people I met this year...

Thanks to @southeasternhoe for liking +20 of my posts and not rejecting me when I messaged her^^ we became friends pretty fast and we know we can both rely on each other. She listened to me when I was too embarrassed to talk to closer friends and it made us become closer! Thank you so much, I love you ♡

A big thank you to @haremofparkjiminsmh. I don't even know where to begin... I think you might be the most beautiful person I met this year. I don't remember how we got to talk but I don't regret it one bit. I've always seen you interacting with Chrissy and Ami and I was just so envious of your relationship. You always made me laugh with your interactions (especially with Ami but whatever) and I always wanted to become your friend but it was hard because I'm a shy bitch x) I feel like we shared so much in almost 4 months! And of course, you became my GOT7 senpai (it sounds funny lol)! Well, I owe you a lot and especially tears of happiness~ I love you ♡

Now, all the people who stuck with me for some time now...

@idunknowhyimhere I already told you a thousand times but you're very precious to me and you're always of great help when I need someone to talk to. It's been some time since we last talked but I know you're busy (I am too) and I don't want to bother you, I hope you understand~ Still, you remain my lil sis and I love you lots! ♡

@goingtosueyou do I even need to write something? You're my sunshine, the light I need when I feel down and even though we haven't talked in a loooong time, know that I'm always there for you, no matter what. I love you ♡

@diminie-s-jagiya gosh, you're the cutest! It's been ages since we last talked but I think about you a lot! You're always on my mind even though we don't talk much and I hope you know that whenever you're bored or need someone to talk to, I'm one message away~ Take care of yourself and remember that I love you ♡

@ggukmiin it's been some weeks since we last talked about that hell of a gc but know that you can talk to me whenever, I'm always there for you~ If you're simply bored or wanna rant, whatever you wanna do, I'm here! I love you ♡

@thesmallestplanet it's been centuries since we last talked but I'll never forget you! You were my first friend here, the first person I fangirled about JiKook with and you hyped me up to write my fics and I'll forever be thankful because you helped me find more than a hobby, I found a passion and it's all thanks to you! Thank you so much and I love you♡

I might be dumb, mentioning people that may not remember me or may not feel the same way I feel about them and that's making me very anxious and insecure. But I'm selfish and until you tell me that you want me gone, I won't go away, I won't stop bothering you and caring for you.

Let me finish with those words. 2019 was a shitty year for a lot of people but it was also an awesome year for others. There's only one thing I wish for: everyone's happiness. If you had a shitty year, may 2020 be one of the best years for you. If you had an awesome year, may 2020 be even more awesome. If you're in need of money, may money come to you; if you're searching for a lover, may you find one; if you're stressing for your studies, may you be successful in studying something you love. I just want all of you to get all you want/need in 2020. I wish for people struggling to get better.

May 2020 be the best year ever for everyone ❤

[halcyonnhood]

Sight and Sound [5sos fic] Ch.3

Note: unedited. Sorry for random n late updates. More to come. 

Previous chapters: [one] [two]

Chapter Three

Eight days and four hours. It takes eight whole days to realize where I had recognized Ashton from. I had been looking at the photos hanging up and decorating some of the coffee tables when I realized the boys were in a band. 5 Seconds Of Summer, a name that would've been easily recognizable to 16 year old Tenley and not as relevant to 21 year old Tenley. My first reaction is to tell Diana, so as I explain my newfound discovery to her, she just smiles at me and nods. Either I'm just really oblivious to something or my own best friend is privy to knowledge I've yet to discover.

“Did you know?” I gasp at her.

“I mean, yeah, I still loved their music!” Diana then points at me, “Unlike you. You traitor”

“I haven't paid attention to them since sophomore year,” I huff. “You could've told me”

“Why would I tell you!?”

“Because you're my best fr-” I start my spiel, but she quickly interrupts me.

“I don't want them thinking we're psycho fangirls! They think we're oblivious and they just started trusting us. They'd kick us out.” She whispers. “They can't know.”

“A-” I groan as I'm interrupted yet again.

“We can't know what?”

Calum stands in the doorway with his eyes narrowed and focused on us. I just look at Diana with wide eyes, shocked and unsure of how to respond. To be fair, she is the one who said it and I thought all of the boys were in the basement playing video games or pool. She looks just as shocked, but knowing her she'll come up with some quick and witty response. Or not.

“Tenley,” Calum steps towards us “What can't we know?”

“It's a personal thing...I-” I trip over my words nervously. “It's nothing important”

“Sounds like you can tell me then,” He glares at me in a threatening manner.

“I really can't...That's why it's personal…”

“Then I guess I'll just have Ashton get it out of you” He shrugs nonchalantly “Just remember that this is my house.”

This is my house. The words echo through my mind for most of the day, keeping me on edge and nervous that he would actually kick us out. He didn't bother saying anything to me for the rest of the day, but whenever we're in the same room he just stares daggers into my soul. If dirty looks could kill, I would've been dead seven hours ago. In my mind it isn't that big of a deal that we know of them and their band, if we were gonna do anything horrible we would've already done it. Diana may be a hardcore fan, but I haven't given any attention to them since I was a teen. I didn't understand what the hype would be, we're in the middle of a fuckin apocalypse.

After the first night, I half expected Calum to be nicer to me. Ever since then he's done nothing but send me suspicious glances and follow me around when he thinks I'm not paying attention. It makes me wonder if the whole scenario was a dream, he went to sleep on the couch beside my own and when I woke up again in the early morning he was missing. Apparently he can only be nice one time, then it's just an angry atmosphere every other day. The other boys are kind and inviting, why can't he be the same? It's just disappointing that I can't see the good guy that Ashton claims is somewhere buried deep down. It became  apparent that indeed, I won't see that anytime soon. So I just stay in the guest room and read whatever books Calum has available in his house, which is currently one full of poems.

“I see you and Calum are still clashing,” Ashton comments after entering the guest room.

“Calum is doing all the clashing,” I reply, not bothering to look up from my book. “He can't just be an ass and expect me to be polite,”

“All you had to do was answer his question,” He tells me softly.

“Does he not understand what the word ‘personal’ means?”

“He heard Diana say you couldn't tell us. What are you hiding that's so horrible?”

“NOTHING, ASH.” I raise my voice as I look up at him. “You guys hide stuff from me, am I supposed to pretend I don't see you whispering when I'm in the same room?”

“Don't be like that, you know we tell you everything!” Ashton defends harshly.

“Looks like we're both liars then,” I hiss. Ashton just stares at me with his mouth agape and a slightly hurt look on his face. “I told her I wouldn't say anything, so I'm not.”

“It can't be that bad. Just tell me, I won't tell Calum. We just want to know if any of us should be concerned,” Ashton sits on the edge of my bed carefully.

“We know who you guys are,” I look away from him. “I saw some pictures and put together that you were familiar because of your band. I went to tell Diana, but she already knew because she's still a big fan...I di-”

“That's it?” He laughs loudly. “A big fuss over knowing 5sos?”

“I-I” I'm cut off again when he uses two fingers to turn my chin towards him. I try to look away again before he can see the tears brewing in my eyes, but his expression softens and he tightens the grip to keep me facing him.

“Ten, why are you crying?” Ashton questions with a slight frown.

“I'm scared, Ash” I wipe away the tears hastily before continuing, “I'm scared that Calum will fucking make us leave just because he thinks we're crazy fangirls or something. I'm scared because I've always had my brother to help me through things. Diana is the only person I have left and I don't want us to die yet,”

“This may be Calums house, but I would never let him do that to you. You can trust us. Even when we're being total dicks” He tells me with a reassuring smile. Then he pulls me into his chest, a steady hand rubbing my shoulders in a soothing way. “I promise we won't ever hurt you,”

/  /  /

Thirteen days and six hours. The dreaded day has arrived and faster than any of us had expected. We ran out of food yesterday at breakfast, even after we had rationed and planned for another weeks worth. Luke blamed Michael for sneaking snacks, Michael claims it was Ashton, and Calum just tells everyone to shut up. I just sit silently next to Diana and Michael wondering how the hell they'd solve this problem. We can't just drive to a store without sacrificing someone for their eyesight. It doesn't matter what plan I come up with...Someone dies in each one.

“There's a store one block away.” Calum tells us. “We will blindfold ourselves and a couple of us will walk there,”

“That's literally walking into our own deaths, Cal” Michael shakes his head dramatically. “I'm not down for that,”

“The longer we sit here doing nothing will only make it worse. Starving will make us die too.” He retorts with a raised eyebrow.

“I just think it's too much of a risk,” Michael mumbles. “This thing...It will do anything to kill us”

“But it can't unless we look at it,” Ashton glances at Michael quickly. “Calum's right. As long as we have blindfolds we can make it there and back.”

“Who's all going?” Diana finally asks, her blue eyes darting around nervously. I can tell she's hoping to stay with Michael.

“I am” Calum tells her. “I think Ash should stay, we need someone level headed to go and one to stay. Ash will keep this place safe and guarded while I'm gone,”

“I'll go with you,” I tell Calum. I may dislike him right now, but I won’t go as low as letting him walk into danger all alone.

“Me too,” Luke glances at me quickly with a small nod.

“Good, I'll go find us some bandanas. Luke gather up some bags.”

I'm going to die. That's the only thought cycling through my mind. The plan works in theory, but no one knows how this demon creature truly works. For all we know, the blindfolds could be pointless and we'll off ourselves just from being outside with it again. Diana and Michael's terrified expressions do not do anything to calm my nerves, it just stresses me out more each second that I spend waiting for the boys. I can hear Luke rummaging through the rooms upstairs and the squeak of Calums shoes from the staircase, all while Ashton just tries to give me another soft smile before I look away. It doesn’t matter how hard I attempt to block out the negative thoughts, there's always one wedged somewhere in the depths of my mind. I’m going to die. We’re all going to die. Doing this is pointless, we’ll never make it out alive. We can never leave this house again. It just seems futile when we’re all going to die soon enough. The thought is almost enough to make me wish I had died too, then I wouldn’t feel so terrified and alone. My mind is rendered temporarily silent when Calum places three purple bandanas on my lap, startling me out of my horrendous daydreaming.

“Empty your pockets,” Calum tells me “Make sure you don’t take anything sharp or potentially dangerous.”

“Tenley wouldn’t hurt you guys,” Diana glares at him defensively. I just casually place everything from my pockets onto the side table, including the sharp nail file I had been using earlier today. I know his intentions for the request and I don't mind it.

“I’m not worried about her hurting me,” He snaps back. “She can try to hurt us all she wants, it’s so she doesn’t stab herself in the jugular or something.”

“It’ll just make us all a little less on edge,” Luke adds as he places a duffle bag beside me. “We already checked our stuff.”

“Good point,” Diana just mumbles with an embarrassed expression.

“I’m guessing that’s why you’re using three blindfolds each too,” Michael eyes the blue cloth in Calum's hands. “Extra protection.”

“We’re going to use two and keep the third in our bags.” He nods. “Just in case,”

“How long do you think it'll take you guys?”

“An hour and a half at most,”

“And what if it takes longer?”

“Then stop waiting for us” I tell Michael, his blue eyes widening. “If we don't come back tonight, then don't spend your life expecting to see us again”

“What she said,” Calum nods in agreement.

For the first time, he gives me a smile before moving to tie the cloth around his head. Ashton helps me tie both of mine tightly over my eyes and behind my head. I blink testing to see if I can see or if any light bleeds through, but I'm met by nothing but darkness and I let out a sigh I didn't realize I had been holding in. Luke finishes getting ready, we grab our bags, and Ashton leads us towards the door. Queue the emotional goodbyes and hugs as if we're leaving for world war three. Close enough. Diana grabs me and pulls me close, I can tell from her long hair and fruity scent, since she insists on still using perfume she had kept in her purse. Ashton is next, his strong arms wrapped tightly around me and his soothing voice whispering that I'd be okay. Comforting as usual. Then it all happens too fast, Ashton telling everyone to close their eyes, the door opening, then the three of us are outside and on our own. Now we're walking in the dead silence.

“Stop,” Calum calls out. “We're at the light, we need to go right,”

“We're almost there then, right?” Luke questions.

“It's close. I just have to feel for the sliding doors.” He tells us softly. “Be careful. Just listen to our surroundings, okay?”

We listen to the sound of Calum's hand sliding against the different textures of the buildings, brick, stone, glass. The sound of our shoes scuffing against the cement. Then once he finds the sliding doors, I can tell that he's trying to break the lock and the nerves forming in the pit of my stomach are climbing up through my throat making it hard to concentrate on anything other than the fact that we're going to die out here. Then the world stops turning, my lungs stop breathing, my heart stops beating.

“It's going to be okay, Tenley.” Matthias’ voice calls from beyond the darkness of my blindfold. “Let me help you”

“Matt?” I gasp.

“Ten, who are you talking to?” Luke's sounds confused and lost.  

“Ten, I promise I can help” This time the voice belongs to Ashton. Hearing both voices leaves me soothed and I instantly take a step towards the sound of Ashton's voice. “Just open your eyes so you can follow me,”

“Calum said not to open my eyes,”

“Don't open your eyes, Ten” Calum warns in a harsh voice.

“I'm going to die if you don't help me, please help”

“Ashton, I can't…”

“Tenley, listen” I feel Calum's warm hands on my shoulders, the force making my body sway slightly. “Matthias isn't here, he's dead. Ashton isn't here either, he's waiting for you to come home okay?”

“But he said he was gonna help..” I let out a frustrated huff “Now he's going to die since I'm not helping him”

“He's safe, he is. The demon things, they're trying to trick us. We got the door open and we'll be safe inside, c'mon” He pulls me along with him and then I hear the click of the doors being pushed together behind me.

“Cal are you sure it's safe to take off the blindfolds?” Luke now questions the boy.

“The store was owned by this old lady named Mary, she watched the news and got paranoid and taped cardboard everywhere so the customers would be safer,” He informs us.

“How could you even know that?”

“Mary liked me, we talked after I would checkout. I'm also looking at it right now and I'm not dead yet,” Calum just chuckles slightly.

After a minute or two of me trying to undo Ashton's knot in the blindfold, I feel Calums own hands nudge mine aside before he goes about untangling it. His breath fans across the back of my neck and I huff in frustration, just wanting to get this over and done with. It doesn't matter what the boys say, the voices sounded so real. It has me on edge knowing how these creatures can manipulate voices and use them for evil. Hearing Matthias’ voice again is enough to driven me mad. It's always a game of pushing away bad thoughts, but I have no other option when Calum pulls off the bandana and leaves me blinking to adjust to the lights. The store is perfectly intact and exactly how it had been before this apocalyptic bullshit.

“Remember, canned goods and anything that will be useful once the power goes out.” Calum tells us. “I'm thinking that we also just fill up a cart and take it with us. We would be good for ages with the bags and a cart.”

I fill the bag with with an assortment of canned food, anything from spaghettiOs, vegetables, and a decent amount of fruit. I even stuff a small bag of sour patch kids in the side pocket for Ashton and small sweets for all of us. It may not follow Calums requests, but if we're going to die soon we get to savor a treat. I find the two of them in the drink aisle, with Luke arguing that he really wanted some Mountain Dew and Calum saying that it would waste space. I just shrug at Luke and wait for them to turn around, then I shove a couple cans into my bag. I'm chilling by the front doors when Calum finally talks to me.

“Are you okay, Ten?” His once intense eyes are now softer as he questions me.

“I'm fine,” I tell him with a small smile. “Just gathering necessities.”

“You heard your brother and Ashton?”

“Yeah. It's a good ploy, I guess. I didn't know it was possible.” I admit while looking away from him. The neon “food” sign, the linoleum tiles, Luke eating cheetos a couple aisles away. Anything to avoid that gaze.

“I didn't either, I'm sorry you had to be the first to experience that. It can't be easy.” he pauses for a moment, “But I did find something for you since you like reading so much,”

Calum now holds three books in his hands with a smile. I graciously take them from him and look at the covers to see if I know the titles or authors. The gesture is far more than I ever expected out of this man, yet here he is handing me books just because he knows I enjoy reading.

“Thank you so much, Cal” I beam at him.

“It's not a problem” Calum nods.

Maybe spending the end of the world with these guys won't be so bad.

Tags: @bodaciousidiot @nicholerodz @filleinterrupted @5sos-luna @woahthereangela @aspiringwildfire [if anyone wants added or removed, just ask]