#if i'm ever overwhelmed i'll literally Say So so don't ever feel afraid to reach out and ask to plot or for / to leave a starter you guys

[cosmicangsts]

just wanted to thank you all for the support on this blog and the way i've been welcomed back into rpc as a whole after years and years of being away, epecially from writing doctor who. the fifth doctor is my doctor and is especially important to me, so seeing the support for me writing him has been FANTASTIC! you guys are the greatest and i enjoy writing / can't wait to write with all of you! and everyone's blogs are so beautiful too, i never thought i'd learn how to use caard LMAO. don't ever be afraid to holler at me if you want to write <3

[mackenzielovee]

my girl (part 4) - rafe cameron

a/n: SURPRISE! I wrote a part 4 ;) i had this idea right after i said i was only doing 3 parts - but this really is the final one! I really hope ya'll enjoy. It's a little shorter than the rest! (not my gif)

Summary: Nope sorry you have to read!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, kissing, and test anxiety

Word Count: 4.4k

series masterlist

my writing

Your phone buzzing on your nightstand distracts you get again from cramming for your Chemistry final. The exam happens in two days, yet you feel like it might as well be in two hours with the amount of anxiety you have. It's your second year of college, and boy, it hasn't gotten any easier. Thankfully, your roommate is out for the night so you have your entire dorm to yourself to study.

You lean over and check your phone. Another missed call from your fiancee, Rafe. Beside your phone on your nightstand sits your engagement ring. You stare at it for a moment and swallow your feelings, then move back over to your chemistry textbook. Your phone buzzes again - a voicemail from Rafe this time, which you don't bother to listen to.

Chemistry is your focus tonight. Chemistry is what you need to be studying for, what you need to know inside and out. You throw yourself back into it, shutting off your phone when it buzzes yet again. You need absolutely zero distractions.

About twenty minutes into it, you hear a loud knock on the door. You sigh, figuring your roommate forgot her ID or keys again. You pull open the door and sigh, fully shocked when you find Rafe standing at your door. He's out of breath from running inside from the parking lot, and he looks pissed off.

"Oh, good, you're alive," he snaps, pushing his way into your room before you can even invite him.

"What are you doing here?" you ask him, closing the door so none of your nosy neighbors can listen to yet another argument between the two of you.

Things haven't been good. You're sick of him calling and texting you all the time, him begging you to come home, and constantly asking who you're with when you go out. On top of all of that, your classes this semester are harder than they've ever been, but Rafe never respects when you say you need space and time to study.

"Checking to see if my fucking fiancee is breathing!" he shouts, throwing his hands up in the air, "I mean, shit, Y/N, I called you, like, twenty times."

You glance over to the nightstand at your phone, realizing your ring was over there, too. You know he won't like that.

"I shut my phone off. I really need to study, Rafe," you tell him, but he's not listening.

Instead, he collapses onto your bed and puts his head in his hands, sitting directly on your Chem textbook and notes.

"Oh, my God, what the hell? Get up," you snap at him, walking over and pushing him off so he doesn't ruin your notes or textbook pages.

"It's fucking fine," he replies as he stands, barely glancing at your papers.

"No, it's not. I need this shit to pass my exam-" you hold the wrinkled papers up.

"They're literally fine, Y/N," his voice raises, "Stop being so dramatic."

You take a deep breath before you speak again, knowing whatever comes out will not be very nice. You've really been trying to be patient with him, but it's getting harder and harder.

"I'm not being dramatic, Rafe," you say calmly, "I just really need to study and I need peace and quiet."

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck as he debates what to say next. Neither of you want to start a fight, but you both have a lot of shit to say. His eye catches the shiny object on the nightstand and he looks over, figuring out it's your engagement ring.

"What the fuck?" he gasps, picking it up and holding it out to you, "Since when do you take this off?"

You put your hands on your forehead and sigh, realizing this is going to take up a lot of time that you don't have. And the fact that Rafe drove eight hours on a whim because you didn't pick up his calls all day has made you crazy.

"I cannot do this with you right now," you tell him, stepping toward your Chemistry stuff.

You'll just have to go to the library and study if he's going to be here. There's no way you can get any of your shit done with him bitching about your ring.

"Oh, my bad, when can you do it, then?" he rolls his eyes, "Huh? Can you give me, like, a window of time where you're actually available to talk?"

"Rafe-" you start, but he holds his hand up.

"No, because, I mean, I don't hear from you all day, and I'm fucking worried about you, so I make the long ass drive to come check on my soon-to-be wife, and now I'm the bad guy? Yeah, no, I get it now!" he exclaims.

"Jesus, okay, I have to go," you say, grabbing your backpack from the floor and sliding some slippers on.

"Right, to study," he grumbles.

"Yeah, to study," you snap back, "Just because you didn't go to school doesn't mean you can't at least try to understand!"

You rarely raise your voice at him, so Rafe knows you're mad. He stares at you for a second, deciding if he should acknowledge your comment about him not attending school.

"It's not about whether or not I understand, it's about time management," he lectures, making you roll your eyes, "Don't roll your fucking eyes at me."

"Don't show up at my dorm unannounced!" you yell back.

"I wouldn't have been unannounced if you would answer your goddamn phone!"

You take a deep breath and exhale loudly, then step closer to the door. Rafe walks over to you and grabs your arm, spinning you around. You stare up at him like he's crazy, he's never laid a hand on you like that before.

"Put your ring back on," he demands, holding it out in his hand.

"What the fuck is your problem, Rafe? You think I'm gonna get hit on walking to the damn library? Get a grip," you mutter, trying to yank your arm from his grasp but failing.

"I'm not playing," he tells you, holding the ring up in his other hand.

"Neither am I," you snap, "Let go of me."

He stares at you for another few seconds and then releases you, groaning loudly when he does. He steps away from you and runs his hand through his hair, then sets your ring back down on the nightstand.

"What's going on with us?" he grumbles, sitting down on your bed again.

You start to feel bad as you look at him, so you step closer and set your books down on you desk. You open your mouth to speak, to apologize and return your ring to your finger, when he speaks out again.

"Why didn't you answer the fucking phone when I called?"

You close your mouth quickly, swallowing the words you were about to say. You stare at him for a moment, then you decide that it's just best to tell him the absolute, stone cold truth.

"Because I have shit going on, Rafe. I have a Chem final in two days and I'm not at all prepared, I have other finals and an entire paper due by the end of the week, and I have you up my ass about everything in between and it's just a little overwhelming right now."

He brings his head out of his hands and looks up at you. His expression changes from hurt to angry in about one second, so you brace yourself.

"So what do you want me to do to help you, then?" he asks, his voice agitated. You can tell he's trying to be patient, but he really wants to yell.

"I just need you to give me some space right now," you state.

He nods his head, moving his eyes away from yours and down to the floor.

"Space," he repeats, "You want space."

You nod your head slowly, afraid now to speak. You can't tell what his reaction is about to be, but obviously it isn't going to be a good one.

"So, you ignore my phone calls," he holds up one finger, "You take off your engagement ring," another finger, "And now you want space. Do you think I'm a fucking moron?"

He stands up off the bed, now towering over you. Your hands come up to your face, rubbing your eyes to try and relieve some form of stress.

"God, Rafe, you're making this out to be something it's not-"

"Am I?" he shouts, "Do you want to marry me or not? I mean, I really think that's what this boils down to. Am I what you want, or not?"

His yelling combined with your stress and confusion makes you yell back at him.

"I don't know!"

He steps back, almost like you've hurt him, and stares at you with a look you've never seen before. It's anger, betrayal, confusion, and sadness all rolled into one, heartbroken expression. It makes your stomach turn thinking about the fact that you're hurting him.

"Well, there it is," he says, his voice cracking, "I'll just get out of your way, then."

He leans down and grabs the ring from your nightstand, wrapping his large hand around it and then stepping toward the door.

"Rafe, wait," you say, "Where are you going to go? You can't drive home in the dark."

He doesn't turn around, he can't look at you. Not when you're not sure what you want.

"I'll sleep in the truck," he says, his voice weak and quiet.

"No," you protest, "Rafe, I'm sorry."

He stands there for a few seconds, then turns, and you see the tears in his eyes. One has fallen, and rests on the bottom of his cheek. He wipes it away, but not quick enough.

"Why are you sorry? I'm not what you want anymore," he laughs, but nothing is funny.

Another tear falls and you step forward quickly, reaching up to wipe it away. He closes his eyes under your touch, always loving feeling your skin on his.

"I didn't say that," you say gently, tears welling in your eyes from seeing him like this.

"Just..." he trails off, finally opening his red eyes, "Go ace your Chem final. I'll see you at home in a few days."

He reaches up and grabs your hand, removing it from his cheek. He lays a quick kiss on your knuckles, then closes his eyes again when he lets go of you. Not sure if it's his last time feeling you.

He turns to leave, opening the door up before he turns back to you.

"I love you. I always will."

He doesn't wait for your response, he just closes the door behind him. You turn and look at the nightstand where your ring once sat, wishing to God that it was still there. You want to tun after him, but you know you can't. You two just need some cooling off time, you tell yourself. You'll come back again atfer finals when you get home for Christmas break. He'll hold onto your ring for you, you convince yourself of that.

You can't focus. The next day, you spend all your time in the library, staring at a page in your Chem textbook, and all you can focus on is your empty finger. No pretty ring that reflects every ounce of Rafe's love for you. You check your phone, but all you see is an empty screen. Your wallpaper is a cheesy picture of Rafe holding a wine glass. You took it on your anniversary last year and love everything about it, especially his cheesy grin.

Tears start to form in your eyes, so you do what you have to do. You call him. It rings and rings and rings, then you hear his familiar, raspy voice on his voicemail.

Yo, it's Rafe. Leave a message and I might hit you back.

You close your eyes, those two sentences being the most you've heard from him in almost twenty-four hours.

"Hey," you start your message, "Look, I'm sorry about last night. I really want to talk. Please call me back. Love you, bye."

You sigh and hang up the phone, then look down to your book again. You try and try to focus, but you can't. It just is impossible with everything spinning around your brain. You can still see the look on his face when you said you weren't sure, you can still hear him say 'I love you' right before he left.

And it's all you want to hear again.

You slam your book shut and grab your stuff, then make your way out of the library. Once you get outside, you call Rafe again. You hear the same ringing and the same message from his voicemail, so you leave another.

"Baby, please call me. I'm worried about you. I just want us to talk. Please call. I love you."

You hang up and walk back to your dorm, checking every five seconds to see if he's called you back. You really just want to hear his voice, to apologize, and to be able to focus on Chemistry again. Knowing that Rafe is out there hurting is just too distracting.

You call hm again after you get back to your dorm, giving him about thirty minutes to call back before you try him again. When he doesn't answer, you leave another message.

"Hey," you say, your voice sounding more desperate, "I'm going to call Dad and have him come get me. I'm skipping out on my Chem final. I just want to come home and work things out with you. Call me, please. Love you."

And you mean every word. You sit down on your bed and you remember how Rafe had helped you move in on your first day of freshman year. You remember how he made love to you and how he proposed to you in the parking lot before he left. And you remember all the times he came to visit and you two laid in bed and planned out your whole wedding reception together, laughing and joking about who to invite and who to sit together.

As you sit there and remember it all, remember the kisses and the laughs and the feelings you have when you're with him, you've never been more sure in your life. It's Rafe. It will always be Rafe.

You hear a knock on your dorm room door and hop out of bed, rushing over to it. It's him, you hope. Coming to rescue you, coming to hold you, coming to give you your ring back. You pull open the door with a big smile, only to find your roommate, Alex, standing on the other side.

"Hey," she says, looking confused at why you opened the door like that, "Sorry. I forgot my keys."

You drop your shoulders and nod, moving her out of the way. She leaves the door open as she moves over to her side of the room to search for them. You sit back down on your bed, checking your phone once again. He has to call back eventually.

"You're not ditching your Chemistry final."

You look up and see him, standing in the doorway, staring at you. His eyes are tired, his hair is a mess, and he looks like he's hung over. You don't even want to know where the hell he's been for the past day.

"Rafe," you breathe, hopping up from your bed.

You want to throw your arms around him, hug him, and have you hold him. He stops you when you get close to him, holding out his hand to keep distance between the two of you, which practically breaks your heart in two.

"You're not coming home until you take that test," he repeats, "You've been studying for it and if you don't take it, you fail. So, you're staying. I called your dad."

You frown. This is not how you imagined it. He seems colder somehow.

"Okay," you say, "Fine. But I want us to talk."

Rafe shakes his head, leaning against the doorframe. Alex walks up behind you, whispering she will be back later, and leaves with a quick smile to Rafe.

"I'm giving you your space so you can focus. We'll work on us when you're done with the semester."

He sounds firm, but you know you can win this one. You step forward, so close that he can almost feel your skin on his. Your scent fills the air, and you watch as he swallows his feelings.

"Rafe," you say, your voice soft, "I can't focus on anything knowing that I hurt you. I need to talk about us and figure things out. Please."

"Baby," he sighs, and you know you've won just by the return of your nickname. It's your favorite, which is why he calls you it so often.

"Please," you say, taking his hand. Your fingers wrap through his, pulling him inside.

He groans but enters anyway, both of you knowing that he would do anything for you. The door closes behind him, which you're thankful for. You sit him down on your bed and instantly crawl onto his lap, not caring if that's what he wants or not. That's what you need. Your head buries into his chest and your arms wrap around his neck.

"Baby," he says again, this time with more authority.

You bring your lips up to his neck to soften him up, listening to the small moans that come out of his mouth as you work.

"Rafe," you say against his skin, "I'm so sorry for what I said yesterday."

He hums, so you give him a few more kisses on his neck before you pull back to look at him. He stares at you with soft eyes, and you know you've already won him over. But you still need to say what you need to say.

"Truly, baby. I was wrong. I was angry. You are all I want in this world and I couldn't handle any of this without you. I was acting extremely ungrateful and I'm really, really sorry," you continue, watching him smile sadly at you.

"Well," he smirks, moving his hands from your back down to your butt, "I've always known you're a brat, so."

"Hey," you pretend to pout, but really, you just want a kiss. He gives you a slow, gentle one, one that makes you want to melt into him.

"You are the love of my life," he says, "You could never say anything to make me walk. And I'm sorry for being such a dick yesterday and for not respecting your school. I'm gonna get better. This shit is just hard for me, having you all the way here. I just miss you when I'm home."

You nod, reaching up and brushing his hair away from his eyes with your fingers. Even when he hasn't showered, is in the same clothes as yesterday, hasn't styled his hair or even slept well, he still is the most handsome to you.

"I understand. I'm sorry for being so hard on you," you say, kissing him on the cheek.

He smiles against your lips, bringing his hands up to your face to move you down to his lips.

"Are we okay?" he asks you in between kisses.

You hum against his lips, and he takes that as a yes, so he flips you over and lays down on top of you, kissing you like his life depends on it. He quickly moves down to your neck, his hands going underneath your shirt.

"Oh, my God, I missed you, baby," he tells you as you feel him leaving a hickey on your neck.

"Always marking me up," you laugh at him, feeling him smirk against you, "I missed you, too."

"It killed me not calling you back," he continues against your neck, "But I wanted to do right by you, you know?"

You gasp when he bites you slightly, then laugh when you feel his big grin on your neck.

"That's why I love you the way I do," you say sweetly.

He sits up and looks down at you, smirking widely, "Can you love me like you do right now and then get back to your studying?"

You bite your lip and nod, pulling him back down on top of you.

A little while later, you and Rafe lay naked in your bed, just breathing in the other. Rafe is drawing hearts into the skin on your stomach, leaving little kisses every so often on any inch of skin he could reach with his mouth.

"You need to get back to studying," he says, but doesn't stop with his kisses.

"Can I have my ring back first?"

He looks up at you with wide eyes, wondering if you really mean it. He didn't want to bring up the ring, just in case you had changed your mind about the engagement.

"You sure?" he asks quietly.

You grab his chin and pull him up to you, stroking his hair as you give him a couple quick kisses.

"I've never been more sure of anything," you tell him.

He nods and kisses you again, then hops off the bed and pulls the ring out of the zipped up pocket of his shorts. He grins at you and then jumps back in bed, of course landing on you when he does.

"This is a twin bed, you ogre. You can't be jumping and shit, there's not enough room for you!" you say as you try to free your left side from underneath him.

He moves and lets you get situated, then holds out the ring. You hold up your left hand for him ti put it on you once again.

"Will you marry me?" he asks, and you would've laughed at him if his voice wasn't so gentle and nervous.

"Of course I will, Rafe Cameron," you tell him, smiling.

He slides your ring back on your finger and you somehow feel more complete, more whole, knowing it's there.

"It's never coming off again," you tell him, meaning it.

He kisses you softly, "No, it's not."

Rafe takes a shower and then hangs out on your bed on his phone later on to keep himself occupied while you study for Chem at your desk. You ask him to quiz you and he does, even though he knows nothing about Chemistry.

It gets late, so you tell him you'll study the rest tomorrow and hope to be prepared the following day for the exam. You put your book and notes on your desk, then slide into bed with Rafe, who you made stay with you tonight. Although it didn't take much convincing.

"I can't believe your dad is just letting you take all this time off," you mumble against his chest.

"Hmm," Rafe hums, so you know you're wrong, "I've kinda been dodging his calls."

"He'll be mad," you tell him, and he nods.

"I don't care, though. I got what I came here for."

You spend all day the next day studying in the library for Chem and writing your paper, while Rafe packs your things for you. He figures it's one less thing for you to worry about, and then you can just come with him after you finish your exam. He had told you he wanted to be the one to bring you, his soon-to-be wife, home.

Rafe waits for you outside your building on exam day. One by one, students file out of the building, and he gets even more anxious every time you aren't one of them. Eventually, he stops pacing and sits down on a bench, praying that you do well.

He sees you emerge from the building with only ten minutes to spare, and jumps up to greet you.

"So?" he asks, his voice hopeful.

"I won't know for a few days," you tell him, "But I'm confident. I felt like I had most of it under control."

He smiles, taking your hand in his and kissing it, "I'm so proud of you, baby."

You smile and thank him, then put your head on his chest in hopes that he'll wrap his arms around you. With the amount of stress you've been under the past few days, all you want is just for him to hold you right now.

"I'm so proud of you," he repeats, swallowing you up in his arms.

You breathe in his scent and relax, knowing that even if you fail every class you ever take for the rest of your life, you will always have a place in the arms of this boy.

After a few minutes, you move to look up at him by resting your chin on his sternum, staring up at him. He smiles down at you, running a hand through your hair as an attempt to calm you down.

"Take me home, Rafe," you tell him quietly, and he nods.

He reaches down and takes your hand, leading you away from the building. You two go back and grab the remaining items you need to bring home, the rest Rafe already packed in the truck, and then go out to the parking lot to head home.

You feel relieved, ready to spend some quality time with Rafe and really make sure to work on things so that nothing ever gets bad between the two of you again.

He puts you into the truck and closes your door, then hops into the driver's side. He reaches over and takes your hand, staring at the ring on your finger and smiling softly.

"Let's just elope and get it over with," he looks up at you, already laughing because he knows you'll never agree.

"Yeah, I'm glad our wedding is something you just wanna get over with," you roll your eyes, but can't help your smile.

"You know what I mean," Rafe groans, "We don't need all the bullshit and the drama. I just need you. And a minister."

You laugh at him and nod, understanding what he means. He looks down at your hand in his, at the diamond on your finger, and so do you. You honestly can't remember why you took it off, you just know you never will again.

"A small wedding it is," you whisper.

He leans over and gives you a kiss. Then another. Then another. He pulls away and starts the truck, then looks back over a you.

"Baby, I'll do whatever you want."

That sentence combined with the cheesy smile he gives you afterward is what convinces you that, no matter what, Rafe will always be yours, and you will always be his.

Tags: @cmrxac

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Nine // Wanda Maximoff

chapter eight | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter ten

author’s note: a bit late with the update today, my bad. I’m just very exhausted lol. Hope you like it though! bit beefy, just how i like it 😂

I should have realised Wanda would be a handful after literally grabbing my arse less than a metre away from her fiancé.

The final straw came when we were sat together at a table, talking to a guest who wanted to know more about the wedding plans. Y/B/N had left Wanda alone for the remainder of the evening for God knows what reason, so I was left to babysit her and make sure she didn't do anything stupid. Of course, drunk Wanda was also disobedient as well as truthful and clingy.

As the woman we were sat opposite was talking about her own wedding – the first of three, apparently – Wanda's hand kept playing with mine under the table. I shot her a serious look before slapping it away gently. That wasn't enough though, as several times after, she continued to play with my fingers and intertwine hers in mine.

Not wanting to draw attention, I pushed Wanda's hand under her thigh with hopes she'd keep it there and stop fussing. I didn't think she was even listening to the woman and the story of her wedding dress debacle, as she was leaning on the palm of her hand and watching with boredom.

At one point, just when I thought Wanda was finally behaving, I felt her hand rest on my thigh, creeping up dangerously higher. Clenching my jaw to contain both the arousal and frustration I was feeling, I flicked my foot against hers before stuffing her hand under her thigh again. Glancing at her, she was smiling innocently in my direction.

"I'm sorry, are you okay?" the woman stopped mid-talk, looking to Wanda.

Wanda straightened up in her seat, flashing the woman a bright smile. "Yes. But if I may ask–"

"Oh, no..." I mumbled, already internally facepalming.

"–don't you think my almost sister-in-law is very pretty?"

My head snapped to hers as I attempted to disguise my panic with a nervous smile. The woman looked between us, waiting patiently for Wanda to continue.

"Good looks runs in the family it seems," Wanda said, stretching her hand out to caress my cheek, but I immediately caught it before she could, chuckling awkwardly.

The woman found Wanda's behaviour funny as she nodded in agreement. "The Y/L/Ns are a very good looking family indeed. Especially your fiancé, dear. What a handsome man he is."

Wanda hummed in agreement, but her eyes were only focused on me. Under any other circumstances, I would have appreciated how cute she was and been touched at her words, but now wasn't that time.

"My lovely almost sister-in-law is particularly drunk tonight I'm afraid," I spoke truthfully to the woman, offering an apologetic smile. "I should make sure she's okay."

"Of course," the woman said, nodding. "It was nice speaking to you both."

I smiled in response for both of us before leading Wanda away from the table and to an emptier-looking part of the room. Spinning around, I gave her a disapproving look.

"You can't say that," I said quietly, shaking my head. "Not here. Not now."

She licked her lips, wearing an enchanting smile, unbothered by our surroundings. "I can't help it. I'm so in love with you and you look irresistible tonight, milaya (darling)."

I sighed, my neck growing warm as she watched me with adoration. "Okay, I think it's time to call it a night."

"No, I want to stay," she whined, but I ignored her and turned around to think about how we could leave.

Once again, I felt her hand squeeze my butt and when I turned around to scold her, I saw my brother over her shoulder, approaching us. I forced a smile on my lips and glanced at her with a glare. She grinned in response before joining my side and facing my brother with me.

"Hey, how are you?" he asked when he stopped by us.

"Good," I answered for us both, afraid Wanda would say something suspicious.

He nodded, smiling a little. "Thanks for keeping Wanda company tonight."

Using that as my opportunity, I said, "Yeah, about that. She's kind of drunk, so I think I'm going to take her home."

"Oh," he said with realisation. "I don't mind taking it from here."

I pursed my lips, desperately trying to think of a reason to stay with her. Thankfully, I didn't have to.

"How scandalous of you to want to me somewhere after hours with nobody else around," Wanda poked fun, attempting to make him feel uncomfortable. It worked.

"Oh, no– I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly, flushing at her insinuation. "Never mind." Looking to me, he added, "You should take her home and make sure she's okay. Maybe stay with her until her family gets home so you don't have to head home yourself."

I nodded, ignoring the proud smile on Wanda's lips. "Okay, see you later."

As I led Wanda outside the house and towards the carriages parked outside, I gave her a grateful look.

"Good thinking back there."

She chuckled. "He's so easy to manipulate."

"Not nice," I said, but couldn't stop the amused smile from playing on my lips.

The two of us got in the back of the carriage after I gave the driver her address and settled in. Wanda was quick to tilt my head towards her and connect our lips, but I pulled back quickly, making her frown.

"You've been very frustrating this evening," I said with a warning tone. "We get home and you get to bed. That's it."

"Well, that hardly seems fair," she said with a shake of her head. "I believe I behaved."

I tried not to laugh. "In what world, love?"

She smiled widely, eyes darting to my lips. "Some alternate universe."

"Smooth," I played along, before facing forward. "Sober up, dear. The ride isn't long."

When we reached her house, it was a struggle getting her to her bedroom, but it was an even bigger struggle getting her dressed. I managed to get her dress off, but she kept trying to kiss me as I tried to put her nightgown on. Between fits of laughter, she pushed my hands away and made me step back.

Hands on my hips, I stared down at her with a ghost of a smile on my lips. "Are you done? You can't just sleep in your bra and knickers."

She laughed, sat on the edge of her bed and looking up at me with tired eyes. "One kiss and I'll let you dress me."

"Definitely no." I shook my head. "We both know what happens after one kiss."

"When will there ever be an opportunity where we're alone together in my home?" she tried to make a point, but her accent was especially heavy, entwined with her drunkenness and making it harder to believe her logic.

I rested my hands on her shoulders and leaned my forehead on hers, staring into her eyes with amusement. "My beautiful love, you are drunk. We will not have sex when you're drunk."

Her hands tugged me closer by the waist as she smiled up at me. "But I know what I want. And I'm certain it's you."

"Not now," I repeated, removing her hands from my waist.

She pouted and I chuckled before kissing it away. Her tantrum seemed to tire her out as I was able to get her dressed after that, managing to tuck her under the covers.

"Stay with me," she mumbled, fingers clawing the air as a gesture for me to join her.

Nobody would be back for a while, I realised, and nobody was home.

"Fine," I gave in quickly, before kicking off my shoes and jumping into the bed beside her.

She grinned, snuggling into my side and breathing out contently. "Ya tak sil'no tebya lyublyu (I love you so much)."

I kissed the top of her head, holding her close and hoping she couldn't hear the rate of my heartbeat pick up. "I love you, too, Wanda."

We stayed like that, in each other's arms, until I sadly had to get up and leave her. She was asleep by the time her family returned, her face relaxed and without the constraints of reality. I smiled to myself, feeling overwhelmed with how much I was in love with her. I was lucky to have met her, I knew that much, but I was also unlucky to have met her under our circumstances.

As usual, I couldn't help but wonder what could have happened if we weren't in the wrong lifetime...

I kissed her once more, whispering an 'I love you' to her, before leaving the room and wondering if one day I might be able to stay under the covers with her, cuddling until I fell asleep, too.

—

"It won't take long, I just need to give him this," Wanda said nonchalantly, referring to the notebooks in her hand. "Then we can grab lunch."

I nodded and the two of us walked down the street until we located the Maximoff Publishing House. I'd been here a few times when visiting my brother and it always gave me a fuzzy warm feeling, my brain formulating daydreams where I could be published, too. But that's all they were – daydreams.

Wanda held the door open for me as I walked in and I gave her an appreciative smile before she followed after. She led the way to her brother's office at the back of the building and we passed several desks – editors, authors and other employees alike – before reaching it. Through the window, Wanda and I could see Pietro sat behind his desk, pen working away at some papers.

"Piet," Wanda called, knocking on the door.

He looked up and grinned, instantly motioning for us to come inside. I followed after Wanda and closed the door behind us before stopping in front of his desk.

"Y/N, I'm so glad you came!" he exclaimed, standing up and stretching out his hands ecstatically. "I didn't think you would if I'm being honest."

I tilted my head, bemused. "Er... pardon?"

"Piet, she doesn't–" Wanda started, making me look to her. She cut herself off with a sigh, massaging the bridge of her nose and shaking her head. "Oh, God."

"I'm not sure what's happening here," I said with an awkward chuckle, before taking the notebooks from Wanda's hand and dropping them on Pietro's desk, "but these are for you. Wanda said you left them at home."

He chuckled, pushing the notebooks to the side, before reaching into his top drawer and throwing some pages before me. "These are genius, Y/N."

My brows creased together with confusion as I lifted the pages, looking through them to see what had got him all happy. As my eyes skimmed the writing, my heart dropped. This was my writing.

"H-how did you get this?" I stammered, looking up at him.

His eyes flickered to Wanda and I immediately put the pieces together, my gaze falling to her. She smiled bashfully before avoiding my eyes. She'd given him my work without telling me? And she'd tricked me into coming here for this?

"I want to sign you," he stated, clasping his hands together. "Your work is amazing, arguably better than you brother's. You really undersold! And the fact that these are just excerpts means your actual completed work is even better. And I want it here at Maximoff Publishing."

My palms were sweaty as I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn't know what. He wanted to sign me? Like, properly sign me?

"Y/N?" Wanda prompted, making me look her way. She watched with encouraging eyes, nodding to her brother.

I swallowed hard and looked to Pietro. "I'll have to think about it."

My family's reaction would not be kind, I knew that now. All my life I'd been hearing about how it was unladylike and unattractive for a woman to be a writer, how I should just leave the writing to Y/B/N. He was the writer and I needed to get over it because nobody would want to publish me. Yet, here we were.

"Y/N, what are you saying?" Wanda asked, resting a hand on my forearm to get my attention. "You've talked about being published for ages."

I was beginning to regret mentioning that silly fantasy to Wanda. If I'd known she was going to give my work to her brother, I never would have said anything.

"It's fine, Wan, she just needs time to mull it over," Pietro said dismissively, before smiling at me. "I do hope you'll decide soon though."

I forced a small smile his way before turning to leave. When I reached the empty hallway, Wanda was quick to run after me, tugging me backwards so I would face her.

"Why did you do that?" I asked instantly, frowning, feeling betrayed. "What made you think I wanted this?"

Her fingers touched mine gently as she looked between my eyes. "You've told me you wanted this. I know you want this."

I shook my head, letting go of her hand and stepping back. "I can't believe you took my work and gave it to him without asking. You shouldn't have done this, Wanda. You're making waves and–"

"You deserve this," she proclaimed sternly, silencing me. Her eyes were fiery as she stared hard. "You deserve to get the credit, too. Not just your brother. It's about damn time, Y/N."

My lips pressed together firmly as I held her stare, though she was winning as she told me everything I'd wanted to hear. Just once, somebody believed in me, but I was so used to hearing otherwise that it felt foreign.

"Pietro wants to help," she said, expression softening. "He recognises talent and you have it. Maybe I should have asked before giving him your work, maybe I shouldn't have. But I know that it was the only way to push you. You're so content accepting what other people want that you don't chase what you deserve."

Her passion and belief for my work warmed my heart to the core and I was certain that I'd never been more in love with her than I was now. She didn't have to care, but she did. For once, somebody did.

"Nobody will like this," I muttered, half-convinced but still worried about the drawbacks. "It could destroy your brother's career. It could backfire."

Wanda shook her head, stepping forward and resting a hand on my neck, thumb stroking the skin comfortingly. "He wouldn't take the risk if he didn't believe in you."

I placed my hand over hers, taking it between mine as I squeezed it gently, gratefully. I didn't know what else to say, since she'd countered all of my arguments. Everything apart from my family's reaction, which she couldn't control.

"I did this for you," she murmured, before wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me in for a hug. "For you to finally get what you deserve. So that you can make your own money and nobody can take it from you."

She paused as I returned her hug, though I was pondering her words, not knowing she felt that way. It sounded like she'd given this some thought. More than she was letting on.

"Especially if you get married," she added after consideration, and I pulled away, ready to say otherwise, but she closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, I know you don't like talking about it, but it needs to be said." She opened her eyes and I realised they were glassy with unshed tears. "I need you to be okay when it happens. I don't–" She sucked up a breath, smiling to relieve the tension, though it was full of pain. "I don't want some man owning you."

"Any money I make will belong to him anyway," I said, knowing she knew the world we lived in.

A downhearted chuckle escaped her lips. "You wouldn't allow that, Y/N, we both know that."

She wasn't wrong. But the thought of even being married to somebody that wasn't her made my heart crumble in my chest.

"Just think about it, okay?" she asked pleadingly. "Promise me you'll think about it? Properly?"

I nodded, reassuring her with a sad smile. "I will. I promise." She sighed with relief, tense shoulders relaxing. I continued quietly, "Thank you, Wanda. For all of this. For everything."

She nodded, before laughing to distract from the tear that slipped from her eye. I felt bad, but there was nothing I could do. She was so concerned about my future without her and it pained me to see. We never talked about it – an unspoken agreement – because it was too difficult to accept.

"Come on," she said, changing the subject. "Let's go get that lunch we came here for."

—

I hadn't made up my mind about the publishing deal, but I was starting to veer towards a 'yes'.

A few days passed since Pietro made the offer and I hadn't told anybody of it. Only Wanda knew and she hadn't brought it up since, clearly not wanting to pressure me into a decision which I appreciated. It made me realise that I really wanted this for myself. I deserved this for myself, even if I'd been taught otherwise.

It was those few days later when the Maximoffs came over for dinner and it was the first time I'd seen Pietro since he made me the offer. When he greeted me at the door, he smiled brightly.

"I assume you haven't made a decision," he noted.

"You assumed correctly," I said with amusement, though I could tell he really wanted to know.

"Very well," he said with a shrug. "I guess I'll just have to change your mind."

I quirked a brow, wondering what he meant by that, but he simply walked past me and into the living room. Wanda smiled at me next, squeezing my hand and greeting me with a hug.

"You okay?" she asked lowly, a hint of concern in her eyes.

"I'm good," I promised. "Are you?"

"Yes," she said with a small smile. Just like her brother, I could tell she wanted to know what I was thinking.

After our two families conversed in the living room for a while, dinner was served by our servants and we all took to the table to continue our chatter.

"So, Pietro," my father started, looking across the table to him. "How is business going at the publishing house?"

I should have known what he would do when he glanced at me with mischievous eyes.

"It's going great," he answered my father respectfully. "We've actually sought out a new author to add to the list of names we represent."

My eyes widened when I realised what he was doing.

"Oh, really?" my dad asked with surprise. "Who is he?"

Pietro looked in my direction and I forgot how to breathe. "It's actually your daughter, sir."

All eyes fell to me as I locked my gaze on the cutlery beside my plate.

"Y/N? You want to sign Y/N?" asked my dad for clarification.

"I do," he said with a grin, and my face was heating up the longer this conversation went on. "Wanda saw her work and thought I'd be interested. I am. I think she'd make a great fit at our publishing house. And if she has a manuscript to show us, then I'd love to publish it."

"You did this?" Y/B/N asked Wanda with raised brows, jealousy intertwined in his voice.

"Yes, I did," she answered, unaffected by his irritation. "She's really talented."

I risked glancing up, smiling at Wanda appreciatively. She nodded in response, the corner of her mouth lifting adorably, making my heart flutter.

"She really is," Pietro agreed, before looking to my dad who still seemed taken aback. "She probably got that from you. Writing seems to run in the family."

My dad looked at me across the table, his eyes softening. All of our conversations flashed to mind where he claimed he was discouraging me for my own benefit. But now, everything he'd thought wouldn't happen was. Would he still be against the idea?

"D'you really think she'd sell?" he finally spoke, looking to Pietro, and I couldn't contain the smile from my lips.

"Yeah, don't women struggle with their first book?" my brother asked, and when I examined his expression, I saw the distaste.

"I actually think she'd do really well...," Pietro began to explain, before going into a long rant about numbers and sales and past examples.

As he spoke, my brother got progressively more frustrated and I frowned, wondering why he couldn't be supportive like our parents were being. Did he want to be the only author in our family that bad? Or was he just afraid that I wouldn't help him with his own books anymore?

"Thank you for explaining all of that," my dad said once he was done. He smiled, impressed, looking to me. "I actually love the idea."

I felt lightweight when he said that. Things were actually starting to look up for me. My dad was actually supporting my passion and it was all I'd wanted to hear since I was a kid. Trying to hide my elation behind a smile, I took a sip of water. 

"Maybe Pietro is just trying to sweeten Y/N up so he can propose," Y/B/N suddenly said, making me choke on my water.

Looking to him with disbelief, he had a friendly smile on his lips, but I saw right through it.

"Y/B/N," Wanda scolded beside him. "Don't joke about that."

"Yeah, I can assure you that's not the case," Pietro added with a chuckle, unfazed by my brother's bitterness.

"I know that," I said reassuringly, before glaring at my brother. "You don't need to dignify him with a response, Pietro."

Changing the subject, my mother spoke up with a laugh. "Well, I think this is delightful. Y/N has always loved to write and I used to think it wasn't an appropriate future for a young woman, but if you are saying it could be, then I'm fully supportive of the idea."

I smiled at her, unable to believe she'd actually said that. She was the last person I thought would approve.

"Pietro has a good eye with these things," Oleg pointed out. "If he thinks it'll be successful, it will be."

My parents began to talk about how writing was something I'd loved for a long time, but I wasn't really listening because I felt overwhelmed with happiness. Pietro caught my eye, winking playfully, and I hoped he knew how grateful I was at what he'd done. Under the table, Wanda's fingers laced through mine and I didn't let go. Giving her a sideways glance, I thanked her with my eyes. She smiled widely and I tried very hard not to kiss her.

"...it's not the conventional route, but Y/N deserves it," my dad said, and I perked up with realisation.

"Maybe Wanda could break the conventional, too," I said, wanting to repay the brunette beside me.

"What do you mean?" she asked with furrowed brows.

I gave her a smile of disbelief. "Wanda, your art. It's stunning. Everything you create could easily sell for hundreds of pounds."

Her lips parted with surprise as she struggled to find words.

"That's not a bad idea, you know," Iryna said with thought. "Especially if Y/N's signing goes to plan."

Oleg groaned playfully, looking to my father. "This is happening so quickly... our girls are growing up, Y/D/N."

My dad chuckled alongside him as I stroked the top of Wanda's hand with my thumb. She squeezed it gently and I smiled to myself.

"You'll make tons of money," I said with certainty. "Your work is incredible, Wanda."

"I'll make enough money to support the both of us," Y/B/N said, doing a terrible job at hiding his frustration.

I looked over Wanda and to him with a hard stare and fake smile. "It's not even about the money to be honest. Maybe it's just about Wanda doing something she loves."

He nodded in agreement, though his eyes glared daggers at me. "I agree. And I won't stop her. But there's no need to sell her work. She can still practice her craft as usual. Heck, I'll even get her a studio."

I quirked a brow challengingly. "And what if she wants to sell it?"

Y/B/N clenched his jaw behind a forced smile. I ignored the warning look Wanda gave me in my peripheral and didn't dare look away from my brother's gaze. This was a side to him that I definitely didn't like.

My mum suddenly laughed to clear the air, but it was nervous and concerned. "Ah, sibling rivalry. Such playful nonsense."

"I believe the dessert is coming out now," my dad added, stealing the Maximoffs' attention away from my brother and I. "We're having soufflé."

With a final glare to my brother, I returned to eating. Any chatter of Wanda and I's potential careers ceased and my parents attempted to make the rest of the meal worthwhile.

As much as I wanted to be excited at the possibility of accepting Pietro's deal, especially since I had my parents' support, I couldn't help but think about what just happened with my brother. What was his problem?

When the meal ended, we all had some tea in the living room before bringing the evening to a close. At the door, we said our goodbyes to the Maximoffs and I was sure to thank Pietro.

"You didn't have to do that back there," I said as we shook hands, "but thank you. I think I know my answer now."

"Anything for my sister's best friend," he said with his signature charming smile. "And I hope it's what I think it is. Though, I suppose you won't tell me now."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Not now."

"Soon, I hope." He nodded conclusively. "Have a good evening, Y/N."

Wanda shoved him out the way before I could respond before pulling me in for a hug. Pietro didn't seem offended as he gave me a knowing look over her shoulder. I stared back inquisitively, but got distracted when Wanda broke the hug, finding my eyes.

"You okay after what happened?" she asked gently, eyes subtly gesturing to my brother who was bidding her parents a goodbye.

"I'm okay," I reassured her with a smile. "Thanks for tonight."

She returned my smile. "Thank you. I think my parents actually took me seriously for a change."

"It's the least I could do," I told her, fully aware of everything she'd done for me.

Her smile widened, eyes flickering to my lips conspicuously. I shoved her gently, knowing what she was thinking and reminding her that we were in front of both of our families right now. She rolled her eyes playfully before stepping back.

"Such a handful," I mumbled jokingly.

When they left, the first thing Y/B/N did was storm off to his study. My parents exchanged glances before looking to me.

"Be nice," my mum warned.

"We'll see," I muttered under my breath, looking in the direction he'd gone.

Oh, was he about to get a piece of my mind.

[suganovakawa]

𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐄 .

PAIRINGS : tooru oikawa x fem! reader , slight hajime iwaizumi x fem! reader

GENRE : angst , romance

WARNINGS : cursing , car accident , recovery from amnesia

SYNOPSIS : tooru doesn’t understand how special you are to him until he comes close to losing you forever . as he struggles to comes to grips with his feelings and balance it with his future , you still have to recover from your own injuries , but without your memories to assist you .

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐗 < [ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐗 ] > 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐗𝐈𝐈

if he really wanted to, tooru could tell you everything right here and now.

word count : 2k

saudade masterlist .

SAUDADE

( 𝐧 . ) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant , or that has been loved and then lost ; “ the love that remains ”

⠀his knee wasn't the reason why he started crying on the gym floor. screw his knee for all he cared, tooru had dealt with his injury time and time again, a shot of pain through his bad knee hardly fazed him nowadays. nothing he couldn't just walk off.

⠀any resolve he had, his emotions couldn't be contained the moment you entered the gym. the pain he felt was unlike anything he had experienced before, clenching his jaw in futile attempts to suppress his gushing tears, his vision obscured and his ears focused solely on your soothing voice. he was too ashamed to talk amidst his breakdown, letting you do all the work and talking as he sat there, helpless. he didn't have it in him to dare explain himself.

⠀nothing hurt more to oikawa than watching you take care of him. even after your car accident, your amnesia, everything you've been through since then; you were still stubborn enough to take care of him first. the third year wiped his face, trying to collect himself as he watched you panic over his knee. his breath caught in his throat as he watched you gently place your hand where the brace was, as if afraid to injure him even more.

⠀"i'm fine," he whispered hoarsely, his voice drowned out by the remains of his early breakdown. "you can go, i'll be okay. you don't need to be here."

⠀even now, he was pushing you away - but your stubbornness remained. "but your knee," you urged, shaking your head as his words only seemed to pull you closer to him. tooru had never felt so claustrophobic in an open gym in his life. "please, you hurt yourself and it's my fault. the least i can do is get you something."

⠀you hardly even knew him. you had no recollection of him, withheld absolutely no memories - and yet you were as adamant as ever in wanting to care for his well being. he clenched his jaw at your words; he was beyond undeserving of your kindness from the start, yet you always kept finding your way back to him. he was nothing but a bad luck charm to you, but every single damn time you came back. tooru didn't know if you were stupid, or the universe just wanted to mock him for how he treated you before.

⠀he had only started getting back to practice for two days, only for his motivation to run down the drain the moment you waltzed into the seijoh gym by chance. even now, everything was coming back to him - he felt sick to the stomach. you were still fussing over his knee, almost cradling him as you looked around for anything that would get him off the ground. he was so distracted in his own thoughts that he never realized the pain in his knee never subsided.

⠀"there's a chair over there." giving into your relentless persuasion, he pointed to a folded chair not too far from the doors. "if you really want to help, getting me off this floor would be a good place to start."

⠀"got it!" no sooner had he finished his sentence, you were already off your feet, sprinting to retrieve the chair without a second thought. he watched you take the foldable chair and drag it back to him under your arm, focused completely on returning back to him as quickly as possible.

⠀something didn't feel right. his knee hurt much more than usual. while he became accustomed and numb to it, pain is pain. he tried to reach out and help you unfold the chair but you swatted his hand away, shaking your head as you flattened the seat for him to sit on. his breathing was ragged, fresh from his tears.

⠀your hand extended for him as support. after a moment's hesitation, he reached out and placed his hand in yours, the contact foreign as you managed to stand your ground for him. he pulled himself off the ground, clenching his jaw as he plopped all of his weight onto the chair the moment he hovered over the seat. he kept his right leg stretched out, to not bend or put any stress on his knee.

⠀before anything else could be said, you left him again, only to return with another chair for his leg. tooru watched silently as you took a deep breath, gently taking hold of his leg and lifting it onto the chair to elevate his injured knee. the male felt his heart race; how did you know to do this? the way you took control of the situation so effortlessly, it put him at a loss of words. anytime this happens, he usually has to tell people step-by-step to get his knee properly taken of.

⠀but you. you were always the exception, even now. what could the captain possibly say to you now? he watched warily as you simply sat down on the ground right next to him, looking comfortable where you were. the silent that soon passed between the two of you was deafening; you were right here. literally sitting here, you came to him. he didn't have to search for you. everything he wanted to say, everything he wanted to explain was overwhelming his tongue. but nothing came out; oikawa was a coward.

⠀"do you need me to do anything for you?" he was alarmed that you spoke up first, your face confused as your eyes met his. "should i call someone? do you want me to grab your bag? do you need help outside?"

⠀"no." out of force of habit he quickly snapped back, only for him to clear his throat with a cough and shook his head quickly. "no, but thank you. usually the pain subsides in a little bit. i'll be able to call for a ride home once the pain becomes manageable."

⠀"are you sure? i can call hajime, i'm sure he wouldn't mind - "

⠀"please, do not contact iwaizumi." hearing his name out of your mouth nauseated him to the stomach. "why isn't he with you anyway? aren't you two always together?"

⠀you seemed embarrassed at the fact that he knew as well. tooru hid a scoff; only an idiot wouldn't be able to see how he followed you like a lovesick puppy. "yeah, i get that a lot." he was taken aback by your tone - you sounded annoyed. "actually i... i asked him to leave me alone today. he's left me alone since lunch. i thought it'd be harder to get him off of me, but he never argued."

⠀did something happen between the two of you? the brunet third year couldn't decide whether he should be concerned or relieved; his face remained neutral, but this was certainly news to him. "why did you ask him to stay away from you? don't you... enjoy his company?" he spat words out like venom in his system, pausing for a second before sighing quietly. "i'm sorry, i don't mean to pry. you don't have to answer."

⠀"no, it's alright." you laughed - a sound tooru hadn't experienced in much too long. goosebumps travelled through every inch of his body as you shook your head. "truth be told, i just wanted to be alone for the day. i also..." your voice drifted off, looking down at your lap as you spoke up again as a whisper. "i've been wanting answers to my empty memories."

⠀and just like that, an invisible force punched tooru deep in the gut, his hands visibly going to his abdomen and wrapping his arms around himself hastily. "your memories, huh?' was all he bring himself to respond with.

⠀"i'm sure you've heard about what happened to me, with the car accident and the amnesia that followed."

⠀oikawa's back stiffened. "believe me, i know all too well."

⠀"i hope you don't mind me just ranting to you," you pursed your lips and hugged your own knees together on the ground, resting your chin atop your kneecaps. "but hajime hasn't told me a thing about my car accident, and it's been getting to my head. he'll tell me vague things before the accident, but never about the accident itself. i just want to know, i want to remember everything myself." looking up at your fellow third you, your head tilted. "wouldn't you want to know?"

⠀this was what iwaizumi was freaking about? tooru had heard of his skirmish with makki and mattsun, but because he wasn't on speaking terms with any of them, he couldn't go up and ask them for confirmation. he was almost angry - who was iwaizumi to keep your life locked away from you? it was the perfect chance to throw tooru under the bus, but he never took it. why?

⠀"i... would want to know, too." he hated where this conversation was going, but he had no way out of it. he wanted the subject change so badly, but it was coming to a point where it would be suspicious to do so. he wasn't ready. he wasn't ready to face his demons and confront you about the situation. if it was going the way oikawa was imagining it to be, you knew nothing about him. and you were assuming he knew nothing about you, either.

⠀"it's been frustrating. weeks have gone by at this point, and i don't remember a thing. i just want to remember something, anything from what happened."

⠀it was all coming back to oikawa, that dreadful day. the loss against karasuno, the words that hurt you, and the way your unconscious body was in iwaizumi's arms as he told his former captain to never step foot near you again. tooru did good in doing that, as he deserved to never be forgiven for what his immaturity caused - but you made your way back to him time and time again. he didn't know what to make of it, and it drove him crazy.

⠀"i'm sorry, you probably have no idea what i'm talking about." he watched as you stood up, dusting your uniform off as you crossed your arms loosely. "just the ramblings of a little girl, nothing special. thanks for letting me rant, though." you looked down at his knee before locking eyes with tooru once more. "do you need anything before i go? it's getting pretty late."

⠀"i'll be fine. i think i'll get up and get my things in just a few moments. thank you for helping me." to prove his point, he removed his leg from the chair and slowly bent his knee to sit up more. the sting was there, but it was manageable.

⠀"alright." awkward silence ensued, before you bowed quickly. "anyways, sorry for distracting you again, oikawa. see you tomorrow." you turned around and began walking out of the gym, since there was nothing else you could say to keep the conversation going.

⠀"wait!" he stood up, walking fairly slow to catch up to you, which you had already turned around confusedly from the urgency in his voice. you remained silent as he stood right in front of you, hardly any space separating the two of you as he struggled to find the right words to say. "whatever iwaizumi has told you or not," he said quietly, "what i can tell you is that now and before your accident, you're a wonderful person." he swallowed a lump in his throat. "and anyone who ever treats you like shit... doesn't deserve to have you in their life."

⠀mixed feeling arose as he noticed the faint blush color your cheeks subtly, backing up from you after finishing what he wanted to say. "it's not much," he muttered, "but i wanted you to know."

⠀"thank you, oikawa." you nodded your head and smiled. you had an unreadable thought in your eyes as tooru acknowledged your gratitude with a nod of his own, before watching you walk out of the gym rather hastily.

⠀just like that, he had let you slip out of his grasp again.

⠀he waited for you to exit the school before breaking down again in self pity, sliding down against the gym wall and biting his lip quite stubbornly to avoid yelling out in agony.

⠀"anyone who ever treats you like shit," he whispered, "doesn't deserve to have you in their life."

a/n : too dramatic? probably KFKSKFKMD

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[billiejean485]

For the art ask game 24, 14, 10 and 9!

24. Do you feel jealous when you see other people's art, or inspired? (Be honest!)

Here's how it is: I can get jealous of other people's art if they're younger than me and plainly have more talent. Yes, I know it's a stupid way to feel, because in the artist community (like in any other actually) it's important to have a lot of good to great artists, and you should really be happy that there will be people contributing to the cause and bringing to the table something better than yourself. I'm not proud of that feeling and I try really hard to suppress or reason with it when it surfaces. At least, so far, I never let it show - because if I ever put down someone younger than me I'd never forgive myself.

Other than that, no. Everything inspires me to do better myself and reach their level or go beyond.

... Actually, scratch that. I can get jealous if I'm in some kind of competitive surrounding. But I deal with it the same way I deal with the former one.

14. Do you ever collaborate with others?

Generally, no. Not because I don't like to, but because I don't really get the chance all that often.

There were times I did some small concepts for others or just plain sketches others could draw over - and maybe a few times I drew with someone on the same image together - but that's it.

However, since I strived to work in an animation studio - you can guess that it would be all about collaboration.

If I include writing too... so many options for collaborating open up, in terms of drawing what's written.

10. Are you confident about your art?

Let's say I'm more confident as an artist. I know where I am with my skill, what I need to learn, how better I am than other artists in lower level of skill and I know what kind of job I can get with my art.

As for the art alone, I always see the need for improvement and I am rarely satisfied with what I make. I do get doubts on how good it is, and I'll nitpick every detail if I have the time and energy to make it better. But at the end of the day, you just gotta embrace how good you currently are and move on. Love what you make, even though it's not perfect. (Spoiler alert: it's never going to be perfect. There is always room for improvement and being a perfectionist will hold you back.)

9. How much time do you spend drawing on an average day?

Ahh, a question that's a nail to my coffin.

It depends. Frankly, I'd have to do the math, because I never draw the same amount of time every day.

And I finally found that to be okay. Some days I have completely free for my art (which is a rarity currently) and I can spend from 2-8 hours drawing. No kidding. I get in the zone and I don't even wanna stop for a potty break or food or sleep unless I can't take it anymore.

And there are the majority of days when I am so overwhelmed by chores and other obligations that I feel like I don't have the time for art at all. I'm literally afraid to pick up a pencil and a paper because I know I won't be able to get myself away from it for the next 2-3 hours.

However.... If too many days fly by and I don't do any form of art, I start to feel unwell. It's just that driving artistic energy to create and it makes me happier and more satisfied with my life, and I realized I just can't go on without doing it at all.

Note though that I am retired for life currently (I say 'currently' because I still have the freedom to choose a job instead) and it hasn't been a full year since I got retired. I'm still figuring things out.

Before that, doing art was my main priority because I wanted to get good enough ASAP to land a dream job. Right now, having survival off my mind... I get more time to spend with my family and some other important stuff you don't usually have the time for when you study or work. Like I said, still figuring things out, and still hoping that one day I'll be able to have a job as an artist. Heck, I'd do it for free if I had enough time for it. It's who I am and I'll never stop doing it.

... Well, I guess that's it for those. Many many thanks for the asks Crizz! I love to rant about this.

Also, since I lost the link to the original Ask List thanks to Tumblr's incompetence with the search engine, I'm posting screenshots I managed to take, if anyone else wants to throw a question into my inbox (I won't mind if you add more @crizztelcb):

[kiirogirl]

Don't you shiver

25th March 2020

Her first ever date.

Hand in hand round the food stalls.

Brokenhearted when they part with an, "I'm sorry, it won't work. Your legs are just too fat"

That's what the future had in store for her. It's written in her book, after all.

But little, hopeful Nene seems to have forgotten about this little detail when Fuji-kun, one of her hot classmates, asks her out.

Well, it's actually not her fault if her brain short-circuits when a hot guy is involved. It's just how she is.

But she can't blame no one else either if now she feels like her heart has been ripped from her chest and cut into little pieces.

The only thing she can blame is this stupid feeling of hope that grows in her stomach every time she sets her eyes on a boy who seems like a good person. That kind of hope that makes her all giggly inside. The hope of making someone smile by just being herself.

The hope of sharing something special with a boy who makes her happy.

The hope of being loved and appreciated for what she is.

Nene knows she sounds selfish and maybe immature, but she really needs this. She needs to be loved. She needs to know if she ever crosses someone's mind, 'cause sometimes she just feels like she could disappear and nobody would care.

She is literally afraid of this. Afraid of waking up one morning and feeling terribly lonely. Feeling like she isn't enough for anyone, not even herself.

Because it was never about Fuji-kun or Minamoto senpai or that guy she fell for in middle school. Screw them. It has always been about her and her constant attempts to search for love and validation in a relationship with a popular guy.

And no matter how many times she felt rejected, she never gave up. Because her hope, her desire, never faded.

But now.. Now, she feels like something in her has broken.

She's tired of trying, tired of being stepped on… tired of exposing her heart just for it to be tossed away like trash.

That desperation, that fear of being unable to connect to other people in a way that makes her feel like she's worth of someone's love.. It feels more real than ever.

And it hurts. Her chest hurts. Her stomach hurts. Her head hurts.

She feels like she could throw up at any moment.

And it's all because of her stupid legs.

She hates them.

Nene cries loudly, unable to contain herself.

It must be the reason why Hanako finds her. Or maybe it's the bond, at this point she's not sure.

"Yashiro! There you are" he says as he approaches her. She just stays there, sitting on the dirty floor of the school greenhouse, not saying anything. The look of relief in his face suddenly changes when he sees her crying.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was?" Hanako asks, the anger in his voice in contrast with his concerned eyes.

It's actually very rare to see him like this, all serious and not his usual buffoon self.

His worried expression reminds her of when Hanako took his hat off at the confession tree and for a moment she feels the same reassuring warmth she felt back then.

But then Nene remembers that he led her on too, making her feel stupid for hoping he liked her not just because he needs an assistant but because she means something to him. And her chest hurts more than ever before.

Unable to look at Hanako any longer, she lowers her head, trying to hide it between her crossed arms.

Surprisingly, the boy doesn't say anything at all.

It's so quiet that for an instant she thinks he has left, but then she feels a cold body enveloping her and she doesn't need to look to know that it's the ghost.

Nene actually wants to reject him, to yell at him to stop playing with her feelings, to stop pretending that he cares just because of the bond.

But she doesn't.

"Leave me alone" she whispers instead, knowing perfectly well that he won't listen.

"You know I would never leave you alone when you're like this" he just says, softly kissing her temple while caressing her head.

They stay like that for a while, Hanako holding her tight while she cries her heart out.

It's unfair, Nene thinks. It's unfair that a cold, stupid, kind ghost can make her feel so warm inside. It doesn't make any sense.

"You're unfair" she gives voice to her thoughts as she finally raises her head.

"Well, I need you to be more specific than that" he says jokingly, then with his thumbs he delicately wipes away the tears from her eyes.

Nene can feel her cheeks getting warm under his cool touch.

"Better?" then he asks smiling.

"Yes, I think.." that's the only thing she can answer because yes, she momentarily feels slightly better, but her heart still hurts at the thought that she's gonna die alone.

"I'm sorry if this morning I yelled at you. I have no rights to tell you that you can't go on a date" then he says, holding her hands.

"No, I should apologize for calling you a jerk and not listening to you. At the end you were right… I shouldn't have gone with Fuji-kun" she apologizes, looking at their intertwined fingers.

She wonders if Hanako is aware of the chaos he's creating in her head with these little affectionate gestures.

"He said my legs are too fat for him" then she confesses with a bitter smile, "it was written in my book and even if I knew it was coming, it hurt as hell."

Nene can feel the tears forming again at the corners of her eyes but she immediately wipes them away.

"Yashiro.."

Hanako squeezes her hand and "He's the real jerk. He doesn't deserve you" he declares.

"You're saying that just because I'm your assistant" she decides to confront him.

The ghost searches for any trace of irony in her face, but she looks away.

"What? Why would you say that?" he asks incredulously.

"Because it's true. Sometimes I feel like you only pretend to care about me because we're bonded".

"Yashiro, look at me" Hanako says, lifting her chin with his finger. "I don't know if you're joking or not but this is actually the stupidest thing I have ever heard in 60 years" he affirms.

Nene almost feels offended.

"First of all, why would I do that? Second of all, what would I get out of pretending to care for someone? I'm dead! This is so stupid" he seems actually angry.

"But-"

"I really, really care about you, Yashiro. I care way too much about you. I don't know how you could even think about something like that! Why do you think I'm always worried sick about you? Why do you think I'm always trying to protect you? For the same reason I didn't want you to go on that stupid date! It hurts me to see you hurt, ok? And it hurts me that you think so low of me" he concludes. It seems like he won't allow a reply.

"But Hanako-"Nene can't finish her sentence: it's a moment and her mouth is shut by a pair of cold, pink lips, interrupting her line of thought.

She's shocked and her head spins and her heart feels like it's exploding, but she doesn't pull away.

One of Hanako's hand reaches for her face, starting to caress her burning cheek while her mouth is cuddled by his soft, thin lips.

The kiss is brief and sweet and it's enough to make both a blushing mess.

Hanako is the first to pull back and he's as overwhelmed as Nene.

"I'm sorry! I shouldn't have kissed you without your consent! I'm terribly sorry!" he yells, getting more and more flustered.

"I" she says, trying to regain her mental abilities.

It was her first kiss. She finally gave her first kiss and it tasted like candies, donuts, summer festivals, fireworks and spaceships. It was perfect.

Nene feels like she could melt at any given moment.

"You shouldn't be sorry, I really liked it" she manages to say and in a spurt of courage she reaches for his lips once again. It's another gentle kiss, but it makes Nene heart race and the butterflies in her stomach go wild.

Hanako is melting too, how ironic. He takes his hat off and "now you understand why you shouldn't think that awful things?" he timidly asks, looking at the hat in his hands.

Nene blushes and nods vigorously, unable to say anything.

Then the boy visibly gulps, raising his look to meet her eyes.

"I know you're in a difficult place right now and that you're emotionally hurt and confused, but I really like you, Yashiro, and I'm sorry if you feel overwhelmed because of all of the stress I'm putting you through. I don't expect you to return my feelings or to give me an answer right away. I want you to take your time to think about it and to recover from your heartbreak. I really want to do things right with you, even if you decide to be just friends. I don't want you to take a decision you'll regret or to rush things. You're very special to me and I just want what's best for you. "

Nene can't help but tear up a little, really touched by the ghost's words. She doesn't really know what to say, feeling too much at once.

But she knows that she really likes Hanako.

"I sure hope this is a real confession" she says as she leaps into his arms, making him laugh.

"It is" he smiles at her, then he leaves a kiss on her forehead.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a certain someone to torture" the boy grins pulling out his knife and making the most terrifying face Nene has ever witnessed.

"Tell me you're not planning to use that on Fuji-kun, please" she says pointing at the weapon.

".... Maybe?"

"Hanako!"

"Ok, ok, I won't torture him."

"Good"

"But maybe a little push down the stairs.."

At this point she just stares disappointed at him.

"So you don't want any kind of revenge?"

"No, I don't want to waste time on that jerk"

"Then we may have a problem…"

"What?"

"I told Kou about your date and he immediately went to that guy to beat him up"

"Kou WHAT?"

"Yeah.. I guess I'll go stop him, then" Hanako says as he disappears, leaving her a last kiss on her head.

Nene just stays there, staring at the spot where the boy disappeared with a blushing face and a storm of butterflies in her stomach.

And maybe there's still hope in her. Maybe she doesn't mind exposing her heart once again…

Because she has the feeling that this time, she will not regret it.

Also on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23304325

Hope you like it❤️

[lunaofthevalley]

Steadfast Tin Soldier |||

Bucky Barnes x Reader

The third and finally part is finally here. Thank you to everyone who has taken their time to read this little mini series. It was an idea I came up with on a whim and I wasn't sure I even wanted to post it but I'm glad I did. So without further a do, enjoy 🦄

Note: if you want to be added to my permanent tag list comment down below, and if you want to request something don't be afraid to send an inbox. And if you're a Peter Parker fan keep your eyes peeled for my upcoming Peter story based slightly of the little mermaid.

It had been about a week since the party and things were drastically different. No one has seen or heard from Bucky ever since he walked out of the party and while Y/N hated to admit it, she was overcome with worry about what had happened to him. It wasn't the first time he had done something of the sort. After something happened that he found incredibly stressful he'd disappear for a couple of days and when he came back it was as if nothing had ever happened. But this time he'd been gone for longer than usual.

Y/N was currently sat in her room, in front of her vanity playing with her hair. She stared at herself in the mirror and she as been doing so frequently for the past week. Bucky had called her beautiful shortly before abandoning her, but if she was being honest, she hadn't felt that way ever since the party. She knew her beauty had nothing to do with Bucky leaving her there, but that's how she felt for some reason. Like she wasn't good enough.

She was taken aback when she heard a knock on her door. No one ever came down to her quarters, except Natasha and Wanda, who at that point just walked right into the room with out knocking. Y/N stood up and walked to the door. She expected many things to be on the other side but not what was actually there.

In front of her was a bruised and bloodied Bucky who looked as if he could fall dead in a matter of seconds. His clothing was ripped and his long locks were tangled and greasy. His usually shiny metal arm had dirt between its ridges and it looked opaque. His eyes which were usually a bright blue looked grey and sad. He opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off.

"Go to the bathroom and get undressed." She ordered.

Bucky was taken aback, "Excuse me?"

"Go to the bathroom and get undressed." Y/N repeated, "I suppose you're here to talk, well we'll talk when you no longer look like walking death."

"Y/N...I-"

"Into the shower now Barnes!"

Bucky gave her one last look before walking past her and into the bathroom. Y/N waited until she heard the door close before releasing the breath she had been holding. She quickly composed herself before darting out of her room and towards Bucky's. She wanted to get him a clean change of clothes so that he wouldn't have to wear those ripped, dirty ones after he left the shower. She also passed by the lab and grabbed one of the first aid kits and a couple of more things she considered she would need for patching up Bucky.

She returned to her room moments before Bucky left the shower. He stepped out only covered in a towel from the waist down. Y/N was sure she would lose her composure right there and then. His toned chest was glistening with the small water droplets that fell from his damp hair, gliding down it, outlining his abs more than ever. His metal arm looked shiny again, and while he was now free of the dried blood, Y/N could make out cuts all over his face, arms, chest and stomach.

She gestured with her head to the change of clothes she had left on her bed. He didn't say anything as he grabbed them and went back into the bathroom to change. After a couple of minutes he emerged again.

Y/N was sat on the bed, her chin resting on her hand, which rested on her knee. She looked up at Bucky through her eyelashes and gave him a once over all over again. "What the hell happened to you Bucky? You've been missing for a week!"

Bucky looked down in shame, feeling bad for not telling her where he had gone. "Fury had a mission for me. It was supposed to be a quick in and out, but took more time than what we thought. I left the morning after the party. Only Steve and Tony knew where I was."

She pursed her lips and slowly nodded her head, "Well what kind of mission was it that left you looking like that?"

"It was to stop some rogue HYDRA agents, it was a small group. No more than ten. It was an easy mission Y/N. I look worse than what it actually was. Most of the blood wasn't mine." Bucky explained.

"You're covered in cuts!"

"They're just small scratches Doll."

Y/n stood up from the bed and went over to her desk to retrieve the first aid kit. She then gestured for Bucky to sit down on the bed, which he did without argument. She approached him and set the stuff down beside him before turning to him again. "Take your shirt off."

"What?"

"I said take your shi-"

"I heard what you said, I'm old, not deaf." Bucky remarked, "I just put the shirt on, why do I need to take it off?"

"I need to make sure you have no deep cuts that need stitching."

Bucky let out an earthy chuckle, "I already told you I'm fine Doll."

"It's protocol Barnes."

"Oh so we're on last name basis now, huh?"

"Just take off your damn shirt Bucky!"

"Okay, okay." He then took of his shirt and in that moment its as if all the air left Y/N's body. It wasn't the first time she'd seen him shirtless, she had recently just seen him in only a towel, and it also wasn't the first time she revised him after a mission. But something about this time felt different.

It was happening in her room and not in the lab, and the unspoken matters between them made the atmosphere tense. As Y/N took to cleaning some of Bucky's cuts, he looked up at her. Her face was scrunched up in concentration, her E/C eyes were focused on what she was doing, her lips pursed, which made it look like she was pouting. Some strands of her H/C H/T hair fell on her face, which was slightly highlighted by the suns light coming in through the windows, giving her and the room an aura of gold. A few more minutes of silence passes before Bucky grabbed her hand and spoke up.

"I owe you an apology." He started. Y/N made no sound and only looked at him with wide eyes, "What I did to you is something no man should ever do, and I regretted my decision to do so the moment I walked out the door, but I was too ashamed to go back. Truth is I became overwhelmed with everything. You looking perfect, the ambient, the team and their stupid plan...just everything became too much and I needed to get out of there. I know I should've explained but I couldn't.

"Truth is Doll, I've been head over heels for you since the moment I saw you, and then I met you and got to know you and I just kept falling deeper into a pit I knew I wouldn't be able to escape. You're everything I've wanted in a woman. You were literally the Ballerina to my Tin Soldier.

"But you deserve better than me. I'll never be the Bucky I was 75 years ago, and I'm no longer the Winter soldier. I'm now just the shell of James Buchanan Barnes, trying to figure out how I fit into the world now and coping with what I had to put up with during my time in HYDRA. I have severe PTSD, I have nightmares and crazy impulses...and you Doll, deserve so much better than that, so much better than me. So I'm sorry."

Bucky let go of her hand and looked down in embarrassment. Y/N was shocked, to say the least. Bucky had just poured his heart out to her without hesitating. She could no longer help to be mad at him, how could she after that. She slowly crouched until she was looking slightly up at him. She reached out a hand and placed it on his cheek, his metal hand coming up instantly to gently wrap his fingers around her wrist as she slowly caressed his warm cheek.

"You know, I've been head over heels for you too. Ever since that day we met. Just one look at you and I knew you were different. Not in the bad way, but in the best way possible. I have never once looked at you and thought about you as a broken, tortured man. To me you have always been, and always will be just Bucky. Never the winter soldier, never Captain Americas best friend. Only Bucky.

"And what you're saying about me deserving someone better is bullshit, pardon my French but that's what it is. You do not get to decide who I do and don't deserve in my life, I decide that myself, and I want you in my life. But more importantly Bucky, you deserve this, you deserve me in your life, and I may sound like a hypocrite telling you you deserve me while also telling you, you don't decide who I deserve, but it's the truth. You deserve someone who will be there for you, who will put up with you PTSD, someone who will look at you like the most precious thing there is, and god Bucky I really hope you let me be that someone for you."

It was now Bucky who was shocked. He saw some tears trickle down Y/N's face and he felt the same on his. Both of the were overcome with emotion, everything that had been pent up for a week and from months before was now coming to light. Bucky knew he didn't have the words to reply, and even if he did he didn't know how to say them. So instead of replying verbally he thought he'd show her what he felt physically.

He leaned down and grabbed her by her waist as if she weighed nothing and brought her to his lap, pulled her as close as possible and then slowly but passionately connected their lips. She didn't protest at all. Her hand with which she had been caressing his cheek remained there while her other found itself wrapped around his broad shoulders. Their kiss started of slow, allowing them to set a pace and get used to the feel of each other's lips, but as time passed the kiss got deeper, faster, needier, and they never separated until the need of air became greater than the need of each other's lips.

Their foreheads rested on one another's, Bucky brought up a hand to caress her neck while both her hands played with the soft curls at the back of his head. They stared into each other's eyes while regaining their breath and composure.

"I love you," Bucky spoke up breaking the looming silence, "I know it might be too soon to say it, but it's how I feel."

Y/n leaned in and gave him a small, slow peck. She moved back but just a small amount so that her lips would ghost over his when she talked, "I love you too, so damn much Bucky, you have no idea."

"I think I have a slight clue Doll." He smiled.

Both of them remained embraced for a little while after that, finally knowing how it felt and not wanting to lose the sensation it gave them both. Neither of them had ever before felt as comfortable as they did then.

"Say...you still kind of owe me a dance." Y/N remarked a little later.

Bucky looked down at her, "Is that so?"

Y/N untangled herself from Bucky and stood up, offering him a hand which he gladly took as he stood up as well. Y/N led him to a part of her room that would give them enough space to dance. They positioned themselves almost identically to how they had been the other night, only this time, Y/N rested her head on Bucky's bare chest, right above his steady beating heart.

"Hey Doll...we don't have any music."

"F.R.I.D.A.Y" Y/N spoke up and not a second later an old song from the 40's started playing. Bucky hummed in contempt, recognizing the song and started to sway you both gently from side to side.

"You know....I guess fairytales sometimes do come true." Bucky said.

Y/N looked up at him, "Why do you say that?"

"In the story, the Steadfast Tin Soldier has to leave his ballerina due to...unfortunate circumstances...and after going through a long and hard journey he comes back to her. And well...I came back to you Doll, it might not have been a long and hard journey, more of a week long, average mission but you get the point."

She let out a small giggle which moved him to his core, "I suppose you're right. You know I find it funny how many parallels you seem to have with the story. It's a tad bit comical really."

"Well I guess stories have more influence in our lives than we think. And the Steadfast Tin Soldier isn't that bad a story to have parallels with."

"If you say so," she replied, "just don't get eaten by a fish, don't see how that would work out."

Bucky laughed, "Don't worry, that won't happen."

And so they danced on until day turned to night, they remained in each other's arms until the late hours of the night. Now that they had each other they didn't ever want to let go, never wanting to live without that feeling anymore. The Tin Soldier had been reunited with his ballerina, and there was no evil Jack-In-the-Box trying to separate them.

In the fairytale, the Soldier and the ballerina perish in a fire together, the flames making them melt into a single, perfect Tin heart. But Bucky and Y/N only melted into each other, coming as close to the other as much as they could. Their hearts were sure to become one after that day , neither of them being able to deny their feelings for the other anymore. And it was a beautiful thing.

The story of the Steadfast Tin Soldier and his Ballerina.

...

"Hey Bucky, what was it you said earlier about the teams stupid plan?"

"You don't want to know Doll."

TSTS TAGS: @hadesgirl1015 @holycoldcoffee @pookiepookie8 @fangeekkk @evilzinblr @miss-kraziii @wizards-magic-and-witches @white-wolf-buckaroo