#it’s amazing to see his progression from junior to senior

[ateez-himari]

LXST; RECORD TWO

[NEW UPLOAD FROM ATEEZ]

LISTEN TO 'TAKE ME BACK TO EDEN' NOW ON YOUTUBE (until 4:38)

Liked by m.by_sana and 1,203,389 others

ateez_official_ LXST; Record Two

#ATEEZ #애이티즈 #HIMARI #히마리

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sleep_token So glad our fans brought this ethereal song to our attention 🙌🏻 If you're ever looking for someone to collaborate with we'd be more than willing

hynjinnnn i'm so grateful you trusted me to photograph you and bring your ideas to life, it was such an amazing experience 💛the song is so beautiful that i might be responsible for half of its steams right now, save me a seat at the next tour stop🙏

teezify these photo concepts just get more breath taking and the fact that the water is used to portray the emotions of the song...🤌✨️

youremystar an alternative rock/progressive metal song with HER voice, we really are winning guys 🤭 and the creative direction was all her so it really makes those pics more impressive, I can't even explain how I feel looking at them

himarry.me We as a society underestimate just how creative her mind is...she replaced the vowel by an x to make it a series with different themes 🤯Thank you for working so hard our maknae, but please remember to rest 💕

bluebrry she actually performed it at the Toronto concert...I got chills. not only was she acting but she was singing live the entire time, also Mingi as the toxic masked figure from the video?? this stage alone should get an award 🤩👏🏼

08 July 2024 • See Original

Industry Reactions

Mingi made sure his Instagram story was filled with praise for his girlfriend 'from the moment this song started playing in the studio I felt like I was diving into her heart. I'll never grow tired of hearing that angelic voice even in the depth of my dreams so if you won't stream the song, I will 😤Tiny, please show lots of love to my angel, she deserves it especially after the amount of work that went into this track alone. She fell asleep so often in her studio writing everything from lyrics to the music video directions that I had to make her sleep in mine most nights just so I could bring her home later'

J Hope made an unexpected post on Weverse 'I don't usually make song recommendations but I feel like people need to hear this one at least once in their life. We watched her grow up so I was able to see the amount of potential her production had and yet I never thought to hear something so out of the ordinary, she's really advanced to a new level'

American singer Halsey showed fondness for her friend's younger sister on X 'I've only gotten the chance to meet this sweet girl twice yet she's been stuck in my mind ever since and this song is proof of her impact. It goes beyond the restrictions of her industry, it draws your entire being inside the track almost as if under water. I can't properly explain this song so go stream it!'

Woozi surprised fans with news of their friendship on Weverse 'There have been many talented producers who worked with me in the past but Himari instantly stood out to me with the brilliance of her musical mind. We got to talking more as friends and she told me that she didn't take classes until their early debut days, she just watched people like Hongjoong and Yoongi hyung. When producers say that this girl is a genius we really mean it. Take Me Back To Eden is a mix of two different genres yet she makes them work so well together with just the use of her voice, that's a true artist, someone with a creative vision out of what people expect or are comfortable with'

(G)I-DLE leader and producer Soyeon expressed respect on an Instagram story 'Usually senior idols are the ones serving as role models for their juniors, but after hearing Take Me Back to Eden I have to admit that despite being three years older, I really do look up to Himari. What she has isn't just about natural talent, it's hard work, constant learning, harmony in a team, long hours...a lot of us producers admire her work ethic. Her creativity is absolutely mind blowing, she's without a doubt one of the pillars of this generation and I'm sure younger idols will talk about her for a very long time ❤️'

Netizen Reactions

@/bulleobulleooo on X 'That one scene with Apollo when it turns into a man hits so hard...because the sound was beautiful but the chords were cutting her fingers the entire time. Relationship wise that means he was whispering loving things in her ear while destroying her. Omg then the part where she's singing 'Grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire' in tears while he's making her look up at him?? This MV is so meaningful'

@/ateenypresent on X 'this is definitely about being lost in someone's corruption 🤔 look at the details, she even has bruises around her eyes like she was burnt by the 'funeral pyre' she keeps talking about being drawn to'

@/himaswife on X 'Hear me out, I think this whole project is about the evolution of toxic love. The first track was about desire for another person, lust, or being drawn in by someone, this one hints to being so blinded by toxic love (of the person she was drawn to) that she loses herself to the point of wanting to go back to previous innocence yet not being able to due to still being trapped by the other. The next one might be called last and talking about the separation from that person.'

@/secretlyjjoongrami on X 'Wait Eden is the beginning, where everything started, but it also represents perfect harmony. With all the clues in the video I think she's been corrupted by the masked man and broken to the point where everything inside her is in chaos. Maybe that's why her dress when he's around is black and torn, but the reflection in the mirror is wearing white, same thing when she's in the water...'

Min Siblings Updates

Yoongi's private message 'My Himari, please know that I'm more than sorry for everything happening at the moment I promise I'll fix it. This is very unfair to you, I can only imagine how stressed everything must make you right now, how much my stupidity bled onto your life. I wanted you to know how proud I am that you're working so hard especially on this incredibly creative project. Your soul is pure art itself, I hope you'll always be able to express yourself like this. Your big brother is so sorry, I love you, always ❤️'

Hanzo's private message 'Don't worry I streamed your new song the second the notification appeared on my screen, Haneul heard it and won't stop asking for me to 'play auntie's song' ㅎㅎ This is a beautiful project but please remember to rest, Hongjoong says he's worried that you have more nightmares lately. Pretty please send me the next track before it comes out, for your big brother that you love so much 🥺My amazing, artistic little tiger, I love you 💕Remember to send me a message when you land in Rosemont!'

Translated from Korean by Google

[skelly-words]

Sukuna/gn!Reader

Summary- this is a little fic I wrote in one sitting kinda based off my headcanons. There’s a whole outline for their relationship that I have going on in my head, but this is when they meet in college. I think they’re both juniors or seniors.

this isn't even a meet-cute or anything because Sukuna is such a douche. He doesn't even tell the MC his name bruh.

It’s a quiet morning. School is busy; study, lecture, homework, exams, repeat. It’s gotten better as the year progresses and you settle into a quiet routine. These mornings are nice; when you’re forced to get up with the sun and walk to the bus you take to campus.

Your professor is boring. He’s an older man who probably had amazing ideas in his youth. But now, he often loses his train of thought halfway through equations. It made the class difficult to take notes in and the final would suck, but as long as you passed, it didn’t matter. As an act of mercy, lecture ends early. You slide your hefty laptop into your bag and sling it over your shoulder. The next class you have is still a few hours away. You walk to the West end of campus, where a cluster of cafes supplies students with caffeine and a warm place to study when the weather gets icy. It’s too busy for you to hang around, so you just get a coffee and look for somewhere quieter to be. 

The library always has people in it, but the stacks go so deep and two stories tall, so it’s always easy to get lost in them and avoid people completely. It smells like old books and you nestle on the floor in the science fiction section with your jackets and coffee. What starts as studying quickly devolves as you find a familiar-looking title staring at you from between the shelves and you start to read. 

People filter in and out of the library as classes end and begin, finding a place to camp out through the awkward gaps in their day. You just watch them pass down the hall between the shelves.

“Are you stalking people from back here?”

The sound of someone else’s voice made your heart jump. You first feel ashamed of being caught until you realize that you’ve done nothing wrong. You gather yourself up from the floor, novel, jacket, coffee and bag, before turning around.

“Excuse me?” You mumble, attempting indifference while trying to keep your jacket pinned against your side. He’s too tall, where you feel a little uneasy at the difference, so you stay focused on the off-white linoleum instead.

“I’m just messing with you. Can I get to Asimov, though?” He seems as good with manners as you are, awkwardly gesturing that you move to the side. You stare dumbly at the tattoo marks that wrap around his wrists as he tries to sweep you out of the way.

“Excuse me?” you repeat.

“I like Isaac Asimov. His shelf’s behind you.”

“Shit, sorry.” You step to the side and watch him bend over and examine the titles. His jaw flexes from side to side with his shifting weight as he reads. More tattoos are visible on his face, dramatically following his features, but those are all you can see. It’s like the lines on his face and bands on his wrists are placed just to subtly imply more, a teasing notion that’s satisfied when the sleeve of his t-shirt lifts enough to show the band on his bicep.

“I was reading, not watching people back here.”

He hums noncommittally and continues his search for whatever novel he’s looking for. “You're watching me, creep.” He turns his head quickly to catch you in the act.

“I’m waiting for you to get out of my spot. I was reading there,” you say indignantly. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he trails off. His finger runs down the spine of a paperback and he tugs it free from the tight shelf. “You stole my corner though.”

You scrunch up your nose like your one-hour stake on the science-fiction section means something. “Why do you read back here?” 

“Like you can talk. I found you back here,” he says like you are a specimen or discovery. “Why’re you reading back here?”

“I meant to study, but I shouldn’t have surrounded myself with interesting books. Plus, like you said, I’m a creep. I like it back here.”

You glance up at him to see the same studying look he’d given the books being used on you. He’s thinking about what to say next for longer than he should have to.

“What’s your name, huh?” he matches the question with a soft tilt of his head. His brows furrow when you don’t answer after a beat. “C’mon, I wanna know you.”

“Yeah.” You’re not sure when your skepticism becomes rude, probably whenever he decides to become offended by the shrewd up-and-down glance you give him. “What’s yours?” You know him, not personally. But he’s an athlete and you recognize his tattoos and bright eyes from your University’s social media posts. His widening grin meant that he could tell you were bullshitting around.

“Who gives a fuck about me,” he dismisses, in a heavy breath like he’s just as exasperated with himself as you are. He steps closer, and you can see the dark metal of his piercings glimmer in the low light, one in each ear, and a band around the center of his bottom lip. “What’s your name?”

You can smell his cologne and it makes your name slip from the tip of your tongue. You didn’t mean for it to come out, tightening your lips into a fine line as if that could take it back. He laughs and repeats it twice to you. His tongue runs over the syllables slowly the first time, and the second time to tease as your face begins to warm.

“You’re real fucking funny.”

“I’ll be even funnier over text.” He grins and takes his phone out of his back pocket.

“I’m not dati- I don’t date.” You wish it sounded firmer, arms crossed over your chest in defense.

“Me neither.” He hands you his open Instagram. Apparently, you don’t make the cut for new contact.

“I’m not ‘not dating’ either. That’s not my thing.” But you take his phone anyway and look yourself up.

“Oh, so like-” he seems to think for a moment while you take out your phone to approve his follow request. “You wanna be friends?” It’s a stale and disappointed question that you can tell he knows the answer to.

“If that’s not cool with you then don't worry about it.” You shrug and readjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “As long as I get to keep my new follower, I don’t see a difference.”

a/n- radiohead starts playing. Anyway, probably won’t make this a legit series, but if y’all like it I’ll write more of this au. It’s friends to lovers but not super slow (in my imagination because let me reiterate: none of this is actually written).

Are the banners and breaks working? bc I'm so sick of my blog being busted as fuck. I regret being a tomboy my whole life bc now idk how to be cute and aesthetic and I'm filled with rage asdijfaoiwjdvcois

[gogogogolev]

2023 Autumn Classic International FS results, final results, and Stephen's protocol.

Ok this is really late my apologies.

Let's start with that costume. I was hoping to see Stephen in blue since he revealed it's his favourite colour. Have been wanting to see him in something ombré forever. I was actually telling my mom yesterday I wish he'd wear ombré as it would suit him so well. To get both in one costume? I was screaming. Thank you to whoever designed that.

Now the technical. First of all, big props to Stephen for not letting those early mistakes get to him. He held it together and kept going, and that is so important for his progress as an athlete. Full respect for that. In terms of that content I was surprised to see his Lutz come back from its exile. It was a nice one, and I think nailing that helped settle him down after the first fall.

The 4S in the second half looked good, and that 3F3A sequence was amazing. That's smart thinking, to put two of his best jumps together like that. And finally we have some variety in jump layout. He must have grown tired of the layouts he'd been doing for the past four years. Level 4 spins are always welcome. The choreography looks interesting and so different from last season. The crowd was clapping along to his step sequence, which is great. It was a level 2 but I'm sure with mileage it will improve.

It was the first time out with this program and it wasn't bad at all plus he managed to get a medal so I'll take that. I haven't had time to go through comments but what little I have seen suggests people like this program. Also a strange little fact: this is Stephen's first time winning bronze at an event. He did win a small bronze for the FS at 2019 Junior Worlds, but he's only ever won gold or silver otherwise. This is his first international senior medal and I'm just proud of him for picking himself up after last season and coming out here and making a statement. If you were writing him off after last season you should think twice.

Also shout out to the two MVPs with Stephen - Bruce and coach Lee Barkell. Bruce went to Montreal to watch Stephen and cheer him on, and has been supporting him online as well. I think you can even hear him in the crowd, and I'm sure his support buoyed Stephen. As I've stated previously Stephen's best skates in the past couple of years have come with Lee by his side. Stephen is a Californian now, but I hope he can continue to work with Lee and become more successful under his (occasional) tutelage.

Back in January 2022 when Stephen was forced to withdraw from Nationals I was going through it but was encouraged by the kind words of a coach (an acquaintance) who reassured me Stephen would be back. They were letting me know that Stephen would be selected for Junior Worlds without stating it outright, but I didn't comprehend that in my state of mind. I just calmed myself down by thinking about when he'd be back. At that time I told myself he would be here for 2022 SCI, 2023 Nationals, and also 2023 ACI. I'm glad to see that all worked out without any more withdrawals. Let's manifest more good things.

Stephen has now done a JGP, JGP Final, Grand Prix, and Challenger Series event within Canada. He's just got one international left to do here...and that's enough from me. :)

Way to go Stephen! Congratulations and looking forward to seeing more.

[sunskate]

Yeah, the tech panel wasn't as brutal but at the same time I also feel like everyone skated better here? Maybe it was just a more relaxed event overall and people had their friends and families there. Alicia and Paul - wow, they skated lights out, they're one of my favorite teams and it's great to see them thrive (and make good lift decisions to protect his shoulder). Christina and Anthony maybe got a little too overexcited here lol and overpowered the program, but it's the first outing after all. They might need to recut the last ~1/3 of the program or use a different piece there, it kinda went on and on and it ran out of steam almost while they were still going hard. Hannah and Ye looked good as always but for whatever reason their program looked a bit emptier than I expected based on the practice videos they'd posted. That's an easy fix, though. The Swiss team I think the boy got a back or leg spasm or something? It's good that he knew to stop before the lift went up. Lily and Nathan have made insane progress under IAMO, he was even projecting well and looking at her, so they're managing to pull him out of his shell as well. I agree on the music - they either need to make a more seamless mashup or use fewer pieces. Olivia looked amazing here and Tim is getting there, they'll naturally need some time to gel. The Mr Roboto program is mad fun. Just a very enjoyable event overall and some iconic costumes already.

glad your faves did well! coming back from shoulder surgery and being so strong early in the season is something to celebrate

all the judges for senior ice dance here are Canadian except Judge 3 Michela Cesaro, who is an ISU judge for Italy and also a tech specialist. she was at Lake Placid as judge 2 for the senior international and the tech controller for juniors last week. so she saw 4 of the senior IAMO teams there. some of them had better skates here, others had better skates last week. i enjoyed the top programs and performances here more than last week too. this event has a totally different feel- Lake Placid is in a huge arena with a small audience. this is in a small one with an enthusiastic audience, and very few of the teams travelled far to get here, so even though Lake Placid is pretty easygoing and not formal, this one does feel warmer

ooh looking forward to kishimoto/tamura skating their pulp fiction FD

i saw Olivia/Tim and Holly/Jason only intended to skate their RD here and have withdrawn from FD

but looking forward to the new FDs and to see how the IAMO teams do 2nd-3rd time out ❤️

[watevermelon]

Fate | Kageyama Tobio x Reader (One-shot)

✧ Summary: For years you watched Kageyama grow - from his time as king of Kitagawa Daiichi to the seemingly aloof setter on Karasuno. Your lives were a set of near misses; distant friends, but never getting any closer. You figured that once you entered Shiratorizawa High that it would be the end of your friendship. Thankfully, it was only the beginning.

➳ Tags: Slight Oikawa x Reader; Fluff with very minimal angst; Reader transfers from Seijoh to Shiratoriazawa so there’s drama; I love Oikawa but oooF this is not a good fic of him ➳ A/N: Captain-Sama! In the groupchat is the username for the female captain of Shiratorizawa and do you know da wae is the reader’s lmao

Navigation

— xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx —

As much as Oikawa complained about him, you understood Kageyama Tobio to a certain extent.

You spotted the setter during your shared time at Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High, him being one year your junior. There was no doubt the genius and pure talent that was coursing through his veins - he was surely going to make whichever high-school he attended proud.

You had the same position as him on the women's volleyball team and served as vice-captain in your second-year, alongside a third-year who held their head just as high.

There was nothing more scary than the thought of looming talent, creeping up on you until you were rendered absolute. Oikawa, you were sure, had felt that since the moment Kageyama was placed as an alternate setter during his first-year. It was a daunting feeling, to work on something at all hours of the day and know that there was someone who could easily render it all worthless.

But that did not mean it was fair to treat the poor first-year that way.

Iwaizumi was the senpai Kageyama deserved, but the blueberry held a strange respect for the setter two years his senior. No matter how much of a jerk Oikawa proved to be, through his biting words or taunting nature to the other setter, that did not change how amazing of an all-around player Oikawa was. And that made Kageyama respect him even more.

You respected Kageyama's genius, even helping him personally with his jump-serves, but there was no doubt that he heavily relied on Oikawa's example.

You wondered how long that would last.

Oikawa progressed to Aobajōsai High School at the end of the year. And, to everyone's surprise and obvious disapproval, you did not advance to the white-and-blue signature colors of the school that most Kitagawa Daiichi students went to.

The vice-captain and later full captain of the women’s Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High volleyball team was not going to Aobajōsai.

You would be branded a traitor by the lesser students, people who served as your other teammates that you were not close to. But your friends around you knew just who much you worked hard and aspired to have this academic achievement. You, in the depths of your hearth, admitted that you wanted to be on a team that almost guaranteed victory, with teammates who you could conduct and control the game with.

Unlike what many had hoped, you were going to Shiratorizawa Academy.

Your grades were well above average, actually landing you in the top five in your class among your entire graduating year. What stood you out among the endless crowds of talented setters, beyond your unending potential, was your already rounded ability as an aggressive server. Your jump-serves were better than the other first years in your newly minted class (an ability that came as a perk of being a certain Oikawa Tōru's friend).

Given both an academic and sports scholarship, you flashed a blinding smile at your junior high graduation, parents and friends clapping at your achievements.

You felt blessed to have such supportive parents, ones who, despite their busy work schedules, still attempted to attend your major volleyball games. And had vocally voiced to you their approval of your wanting to go to Shiratorizawa, offering to pay for it out of pocket if you had not received a scholarship.

You could not ask for better parents than these.

Shiratorizawa Academy handed you a new ass - giving an entirely new meaning to practice and torture. 

You accepted the position as alternate to the regular setter with a smile, happy to just be on the bench and not cheering from the stands. If anything, the first few months of Shiratorizawa showed you that you had so much more to learn.

But you were eager for the challenge.

A particular practice match with the women's team from Itachiyama Academy solidified your need for much more training. You wanted to be a reliable pillar to the team, for whatever role you needed to sub into for the game. Whether it be just as a pinch server or when the regular setter was sick, you wanted to demonstrate the winning attitude that came with being a student to a school of absolute victors.

You spent your first-year training nonstop, your fellow first-year students surprised at your youthful vigor and unending stamina. But you had to prove yourself better than reliable, that you were going to uphold the Shiratorizawa standard for setters and more if you wanted to be a regular.

You related to Shirabu and Kawanishi, fellow students in your year who were keen on becoming regulars to the men’s volleyball team. Both you and Shirabu had not attended Shiratorizawa Junior Academy, instead coming from separate junior high's that were considered lesser. Because of this, you two came in ‘brand-new’ with no friends or experience with the school personally. Shirabu grew to have an obvious close relationship with Kawanishi, but you found yourself gravitating toward them every once in a while, as well.

The rivalry between your school and Seijō took the back-burner during your training. You would see some of your previous friends when there were practice matches between your schools and you made an effort to text and even hang with some of them if given the time, but volleyball man. 

It was hard to manage your academic workload alongside giving more than one-hundred percent in your sport.

When the Interhigh-Preliminaries rolled around, you watched from the stands as second-year Oikawa Tōru had already taken the helm as vice-captain and regular setter of the Aobajōsai volleyball team. You were silently proud of your brunet senpai, despite how gaudy and annoying he could be, there was no denying Oikawa’s obvious skill and love for the sport.

The rivalry between specifically Ushijima and your previous senpai ran bone-deep and it was easily palpable to everyone watching the match, even more so to you, who sat at least a hundred feet away but knew both young men personally now.

After the game, you went down and put a comforting hand on Oikawa's shoulder, who gave a small grimace at the motion before fully standing to look at you. It was easy to morph your appearance and identity with the other students adorned with purple tracksuits, (since not matter who, they all annoyed the hell out of him) but Oikawa remembered your face personally from Kitagawa Daiichi.

The two of you were not especially close during junior high, but definitely friends that would often converse on a daily basis. Since you were the vice-captain of the women's team while Oikawa was captain of his, you often shared your personal woes and experiences. 

You even had a shared extra-curricular class in some science-related subject (you knew he was a closeted nerd, no matter how much he denied it). He was definitely a friend of yours, but you never truly knew what was going on in that head of his.

Oikawa’s eyes widened at recognizing your face, before dropping down the bold font of your school's name at the front of your jacket.

"And here I was, wondering if you had moved or died." Oikawa started with a small smirk, "This is much worse."

You lightly punched at his shoulder and then sighed, "Believe it or not, even though you're such a nuisance, I missed you."

Oikawa smiled, but then held a hand over his heart in feigned offense. "Nuisance?"

"I missed you, big oof." You put a loose arm under his and wrapped it around his middle in a side-hug, surprising the brunet who quickly returned the action. "I'm proud of how far you've come.

He rolled his eyes and attempted to pull away, "I don't need you to baby me."

"I won't." You stated in a firm voice, "But I do know you will continue to do whatever it takes to destroy my school."

Oikawa looked at you, fully peered at your countenance as he soaked in your words, before nodding in affirmation. You shared more words of conversation, catching up between friends who had not seen each other in a whole year, before he returned back to his team.

Like the previous Seijō captain, you were relentless in your training during your first-year. You wanted nothing more than to be the regular setter on your team. It was not enough being the sub, even as a first-year, you wanted to prove your abilities on the center-court in an official game.

The regular setter was a third-year, with graduation looming around the corner. Both you and your second-year counterpart were eyeing the position with eager eyes, but your work ethic did not fail you.

GroupChat: Caw Caw SHIRATORIZAWA ୧༼ д ͡༽୨

07:57   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )             welcome aboard (L/N)!!

07:57   From: Captain-Sama!             congrats (L/N)!

07:57  From: do you know da wae            aw thanks! But it wasn’t without the help of the team (✿ ♥‿♥)

07:57  From: do you know da wae            also congrats to shirabu and kawanishi!

07:58   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )             i ship it

07:58   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            thank you and you too

07:58   From: Captain-Sama!             but there’s three of them

07:58   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩            thanks b + you 2

07:58   From: the most tender Salami             ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

07:58   From: the most tender Salami             Also yah congrats but im watching you

There was no question that every eye of both the men’s and women’s volleyball teams were now scanning the shared groupchat with narrowed eyes. The newly formed regular positions were just released this morning and everyone was eagerly anticipating to see their names announced.

You were thankful that the women’s captain was so friendly, offering congratulations for your achievement, unlike many other envious third-years who were now sitting on the bench.

You were pronounced as the regular setter in your second-year, your older senpai inwardly sneering at the pronouncement. Nothing was set in stone and no player was ever safe in their position, (unless of course you were Ushijima Wakatoshi), but your older teammate knew better than to waver in their own training.

Which is why you were not personally offended when the kind-hearted, Semi Eita, did not add to the numerous amounts of congrats to you and the two other second-year boys. You were grouped together with Shirabu and Kawanishi, newly minted second-years now inaugurated into regular positions on a renowned team. There was no doubt that there was a hint of envy and competition within Shiratorizawa now.

07:59   From: Captain-Sama!             don’t be rude salami this is a congrats thread

07:58   From: Ushiwaka-sama             You will all surely be assets to our team

7:58     From: do you know da wae             Thank you!! ❤⃛ヾ(๑❛ ▿ ◠๑ )

08:00   From: Coconut-head            congrats to all the second-years! 

08:00   From: Coconut-head             ໒( ♥ ◡ ♥ )७

You saw the multiple indicators that someone was typing, suddenly come to a complete stop. 

Goshiki Tsutomu was the rare case of a student abounding with natural talent and enthusiasm. Yes, there were tons of students blessed with a general aptitude for volleyball. But what set him apart was his humble attitude and willing manner to learn and keep being molded. He was growing to be the product of all his older teammates, since he had no previous sense of style to retain.

Goshiki Tsutomu would surely grow to be Shiratorizawa’s ace. 

But right now, he was an enthusiastic first-year trying to overcome the overwhelming shadow of Ushijima Wakatoshi.

It undoubtedly set off the tempers of multiple (now) third-years. You even felt the crawl of envy at the young man. You were only granted a regular spot in your second-year. And yet this first-year had already overcome your personal feat. You knew, in the more comprehensive parts of your mind, that Goshiki earned his role and there was no excusing your petty behavior.

So, with a deep sigh, your fingers swiped across the keyboard.

08:05   From: do you know da wae             Congrats to you too, Goshiki-kun! (♥‿ ♥ ) ~

08:00   From: Coconut-head            thank you senpai!!

The captain of the women’s team, along with Yamagata and Ushijima, added in their own forms of congratulations to the growing thread on the chat. But there was no doubt that the atmosphere was suddenly even more tense with the addition of Goshiki’s words. You could not blame anyone; you knew first-hand how much you worked and literally slaved for your position on the starting block.

Every regular on the team worked their way to their position – that was a fact no one could ignore.

But they had to learn to live with it.

You spent most of your time getting integrated with your fellow teammates, thoughts of Kitagawa Daiichi taking a much further backburner than before. You heard the distant yet familiar names of Oikawa and Iwaizumi often make their way into conversation. There was no doubt that you loved your friends, but they were your rivals now. 

And you had no hesitation in recounting their abilities and weaknesses when both Reon and the infamous Guess Monster had asked you.

It also helped that you were once the captain of the women’s team and knew them better than anyone had before. Which also helped you exploit their weakness – another additive that the coach had taken to account when putting you on the starting block.

But there was another label that, in particular, stood out as you approached your second Interhigh-Preliminary as a student of Shiratorizawa.

Freak quick duo.

You were familiar with the several different nicknames that promulgated the Miyagi volleyball scene – great king, guess monster, little giant, super volleyball idiot (but that was more of an inner joke between Shiratorizawa students).

It was strange to you, that Kageyama had not yet made an appearance at Shiratorizawa Academy. He surely had the volleyball forte and physical ability to be the most skilled setter in the Prefecture, but you chalked it up to his grades or brisk personality that may have weighed him down.

But when Kageyama was not even present for the practice match between Seijō and your own school, it made you wonder if he had dropped off the face of the planet. For students who were seriously pursuing their sport, it was not a surprise for them to travel abroad to train. But you doubted Kageyama of all people would do so, his English was terrible.

Usually students from your junior high would immediately accept the invitation to Aobajōsai, a private school seconded only by Shiratorizawa. The few unique instances against this was yourself, but there was no sight of Kageyama at your school. 

So where on earth was he?

Both of Seijō’s teams, men’s and women’s, were coming for the match and the annual start of their explosive rivalry. It was strange for you, to now experience both sides of the Oikawa and Ushijima relationship. You had been on Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s side not too long ago, seeing Ushijima’s brute words that you had taken, at the time, as sarcastic and extremely biting. 

It was funny how now, knowing Ushijima personally, you knew the poor spiker only had volleyball in his heart and mind – oblivious to how offensive his words could really be.

09:34   From: the most tender Salami           enemy spotted Attached: brunet.jpg, ihatethisguy.jpg

09:34   From: Ushiwaka-sama           He should’ve gone to Shiratorizawa

09:34   From: the most tender Salami           lmao he can’t hear you waka-kun

09:34   From: Ushiwaka-sama           That does not make it any less true

09:35   From: Captain-Sama!           Wait

09:35   From: Captain-Sama!           WAIT

09:35   From: the most tender Salami           ????

09:35   From: Captain-Sama!           wait Attached: screenshot.jpg

09:35   From: the most tender Salami           WHAT

09:36  From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)           That’s literally just a zoomed in version

09:36   From: the most tender Salami           um that’s SHIRATORIZAWA’S (F/N) with the enemy

09:36   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩            I mean she did go to Kitagawa Daiichi

09:36   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )            wait she’s Oikawa’s student ???

09:37   From: Captain-Sama!            and now it all makes sense

09:37   From: Ushiwaka-sama            even his student has the good sense in coming to Shiratorizawa

09:37   From: the most tender Salami               LMAO you have no chill

09:37   From: Ushiwaka-sama            it’s almost summer, why would I be cold?

09:37   From: Captain-Sama!               the top 3 ace in the entire country, ladies and gentlemen

You opened the chat after the last message from your captain. By then, you had already greeted the visiting teams from Aobajōsai and were leading them to the gyms that were being used to the practice matches. It was strange, seeing the friends that you had spent more than three years with, wearing rival colors to your own.

“I’ll never get used to seeing Shiratorizawa-clad you, (F/N).” One of your old close friends commented, pointing at your purple tracksuit.

“Honestly, me too.” You admitted, looking up toward her before going back to your phone. You briefly showed the last few texts to Oikawa himself, who rolled his eyes at Ushijima’s words.

There was always something strange about Ushijima when it came to the Aobajōsai setter. It was mixture of respect and something, that always motivated Ushijima to voice his desire for Oikawa to go to Shiratorizawa. He had explained on one occasion that Oikawa was a setter unlike any in the prefecture, including his current team as well.

Oikawa was the type of setter who could bring out the absolute best of anyone, orchestrate his team to their full one-hundred percent, molding them toward his personal interest and control of the game.

And as a setter yourself, you knew that despite his gaudy style, Oikawa was well above the rest.

Ushijima often voiced that Oikawa deserved a team that would help him grow, rather than a team that require him to win – a team he had to drag by his fingertips.

You had explained to Oikawa once before how Ushijima explained it to you, of course with better words and ones that the brunet would less likely take offense to, but the setter simply scowled and muttered that Waka was still an asshole anyway. When you had told Ushijima about the bonds that Oikawa upheld, Ushijima simply narrowed his eyes and said nothing.

It was strange, their relationship. The feelings seemed to run bone-deep, neither male listening to the other side or even simple reason. But you learned not to question it anymore. It went against logic.

You flipped your phone back open to the groupchat and typed.

09:38   From: do you know da wae             I wasn’t his student, I was his babysitter

You typed in, Oikawa looking over your shoulder as you texted, immediately reaching over you to grab your phone the moment he had realized what you conveyed. You could almost feel the loud laughter of Tendou as he bellowed out at your text.

“Why must you taunt me like this (L/N)-chan?” Oikawa pouted, crossing his arms and looking away from you. Iwaizumi had a small smile when you showed him your words, Makki and Mattsun laughing in response since the true personality of the intimidating setter was coming to light to the other Shiratorizawa students.

“It’s time everyone learns the truth.” You teased, rubbing your shoulder against Oikawa’s as he continued to pout. There was no one quite like Oikawa, you admitted inwardly but never to the face of the already proud setter.

They unloaded their things into the visiting school’s locker room and when you returned they had already shook hands and were warming up before the start of the practice match. You tilted your head at the line-up, now a visual confirmation that Kageyama was nowhere in sight.

“Who are you cheering for, (F/N)?” Tendou asked you with a pointed finger in your direction.

You simply rolled your eyes, “Myself. I have my own game in an hour.”

It was to no one’s surprise that your school had dominated both matches, for both the men’s and women’s team. You spied the score-board when you looked over to the men’s match: 25-22 and 27-25. The gaps were not huge and it was obvious that the teams were close in ability, but Aobajōsai had yet to win a single match from your school in three straight years.

You had an unfair advantage of already being closely acquainted with many of Seijō volleyball players – you were once their captain and had to help them individually with their own routines. To your captain’s glee and the third-years’ utter dismay, you proved yourself to be the integral cog that led to the team’s victory – your position as a regular was obviously here to stay.

There was no denying the evident vigor in Oikawa’s eyes after the match, even more so since he had personally requested from you the digital recording of his practice match. An exchange of two orders of milk bread from the bakery across Aobajōsai and you had emailed the brunet his request.

You offered to walk the Seijō students to their bus, since you had a personal question in mind. “Did Kageyama move or something?” You asked toward Oikawa, who scowled in response.

“He went to Karasuno High.” Iwaizumi answered instead, elbowing the brunet for his rude behavior.

“Why do you care so much, (L/N)-chan?” Oikawa taunted, “You already have me and I’m the best setter you need.”

You rolled your eyes along with Makki, but decided to say nothing after his words.

Karasuno… 

You remembered the name of the school distantly. It was still within the prefecture, but you do not recall the school being particularly outstanding when it came to volleyball or any sport for that matter. The school was not anywhere near the list of high-schools you had applied to when you were in junior high, so why would Kageyama, who had unending potential, go somewhere else?

You had voiced this outwardly and even asked if there was an offer from Seijō to Kageyama.

Makki shrugged his shoulders, but the younger student behind him, one that you did not recognize, visibly tensed and the frown on his face grew. He said nothing to you, but it was obvious that Kageyama’s name alone had an effect on the first-years.

Ushijima was already standing at the buses; perfect posture and his hands were naturally down by his sides. You could tell the Seijō students were ready to fight, tensing immediately at the sight of your fellow schoolmate, Oikawa and Iwaizumi moving to stand at the very front of their group. You fought down the urge to call Tendou or Semi, hoping that the situation would not progress further and requiring the help of the other third-years.

“Let today be a testament, Oikawa. It’s never too late for you to come to Shiratorizawa.” He uttered before walking away, right through the center of the group and back to the school grounds.

You spotted Oikawa’s tense smirk, one that he was attempting to use to hide his obvious frown. Iwaizumi was not hiding his scowl and Mattsun looked ready to fight.

You put your hands up, unsure what to say. “I don’t get it. He’s only ever like this with you guys.”

“Don’t defend him, (F/N).” One of your old friends on the female team stated, “You’re one of Ushiwaka’s friends now, you wouldn’t understand how it’s like to be on the losing side anymore.”

You bit your lip but said nothing, there was no reasoning with them when the snide venom from their defeat was still a fresh wound in their minds. You were better off not trying to say anything to them, but with Oikawa’s scowl only increasing you knew you had to do something.

Oikawa kept his eyes trained on Ushijima’s retreating back, before motioning for the younger students to load up their things into the bus, giving his own pack to someone else.

“Oikawa-senpai, please don’t let him get to you.” You put your hands on his chest, seeing the tight fists at the brunet’s sides. “Ushijima doesn’t mean it in a douchey-way, he just comes off like that by accident.”

The brunet took in a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, before putting his hands on your shoulders and looking you full-on with his piercing hazel eyes.

“Take that Waka! (L/N) still views me as her senpai – her ability hand-picked and trained by me.” Oikawa stated with enthusiasm as he looked over your shoulder and toward the school. Your smile was now a straight-line, there really was no end to their rivalry, you inwardly mused.

You jabbed your elbow into his stomach, making Oikawa release his hold on you. He groaned and bent-down, low enough for you to lightly pat the top of his head and tell him that you looked forward to the milk bread that he owed you.

He countered, saying that you really could not resist seeing your senpai again, and was about to continue if not for the extremely fast volleyball setting loose right on the brunet’s head.

You flashed a quick thumbs-up toward Iwaizumi then waved goodbye. Walking back toward the dorms, you were ready to shower and take a nap after a day like this.

It was strange that two schools that held such an intense rivalry would often hold practice matches between one another. You chalked it up to Seijō’s innate ability to get better as the duration of a match continued, their batch of third-years in particular were good at planning and strategizing on the fly during official matches. It only made sense that they would want to play against the top school even more often.

Your first official Interhigh-Preliminaries as a regular and you watched the competition with guarded interest. You saw the name Karasuno on the first-day, surprised that the school Kageyama had chosen was in the bottom bracket. The women’s team were obviously subpar in terms of volleyball, incapable of even stopping the average serve from their opponents. You frowned, neither team on the court would prove to be a worthy challenger to Shiratorizawa, so you simply walked away from the match.

Maybe his test scores were really bad, you inwardly joked.

Shiratorizawa was exempt from the first few days of matches, giving everyone ample time to watch and gauge their future rivals.

You decided against watching the match of Karasuno vs Dateko, hearing that the Iron Wall had crushed the team only a few months prior. Rather, you chose to watch a match between Johzenji and another, since you wanted to watch for yourself the extremely aggressive style that had you wondering just what was going on inside their heads.

But when a crowd had exclaimed in surprise over by Karasuno’s court, you chose to maybe just walk over and see what the fuss was about.

You took a seat farther from the rest, hearing distantly of a freak quick that not even the school who specialized in read-blocking could keep up with. You knew, first-hand, how fast and aggressive Kageyama was with his setting, it could be a surprise to everyone’s who was seeing it. Even the spikers on his own team in junior high were constantly surprised, you could imagine how it was now that he was using it in a more public setting.

It was confirmed now, before your very eyes, that Kageyama was now attending Karasuno.

Donned in a uniformed of black and orange with a huge indicator of his number nine, Kageyama was still same in appearance from when you had last seen him. Sporting an unintentional scowl with eyes that shone with a certain determination, you could spot Kageyama in the sea of volleyball players. A part of you was proud to see your, now much taller, kouhai on the court.

Your eyes followed the game, watching as Karasuno attempted to get around the Iron Wall that Dateko was infamous for.

A lucky save from a blocked spike, Karasuno’s libero was quick on his feet and you distantly recognized the short male. You blinked, seeing Kageyama’s perfect form and unable to personally decipher where the first-year was going to set to. You saw the older looking man, one who was surely in his twenties. Or the balder looking one, watching the setter from his place in the back line.

You blinked, a second passing as you tried to figure out who was the next attacker.

Your eyes could barely keep up with the orange flash of someone as the figure ran toward the net, without regard to the set, and spiked the ball before anyone on the other side could react. You felt yourself physically reel back in surprise, what the hell was that???

This was the freak-quick duo that everyone was talking about.

It was not just another name, rather it felt like an extreme understatement to what you had just seen for your yourself. You had not spotted any visual signals and wondered just how much Kageyama had worked on his precise pin-prick setting – he was a monster now, that was for sure.

You were not able to watch the rest of the match, your team calling you since it was getting closer to the time that your group was leaving. You had your own matches to deal with, and as curious as you were about how much Kageyama had changed since you last saw him, you had your own pressures to deal with at the moment.

The women’s team of Shiratorizawa won their matches the next day, overwhelming numbers in your favor since your renowned school seemed to always carry the best ace in the entire prefecture. You took in your victories with humble stride, knowing that nothing was set in stone until the final with your rival school - Aobajōsai. Rather, you finished your stretches and attempted to get the tail-end of the match between Seijō and Karasuno.

You watched with bated breath, unsure of who to root for in the final points, as the freak quick nearly disabled the second-best school in the prefecture. You could not help but bite your lip as the shortest middle blocker you had ever seen, rose above the net, only to be blocked by your old friends.

There was no stopping the apparent heart ache you felt at seeing a team you barely knew, dejectedly fall to the ground with their heads hung low. Oikawa was hollering in victory; there was no doubt in your mind that this match extended to a much more personal level, like that of his games with Ushijima. Within seconds, the brunet was yelling out commands for his team, likely getting ready for the next match as Karasuno lagged behind with depressed visages.

It seems Kageyama is finally beginning to trust other people, you inwardly mused when you reran the last few plays within your mind.

You stood at Aobajōsai’s side of the stands, waving to Oikawa with a smile when he spotted you, lining his team up to bow at those who came to watch the match.

Oikawa made a point of smirking and pointing a finger-gun at you, making many heads turn towards your direction as he did so.

You felt the instant pang and vengeance of a thousand fangirls, making the third-years of Seijō roll their eyes as you tensely motioned a slash across your neck toward the brunet. Other Aobajōsai students, those cheering from the stands, lifted a brow in confusion and curiosity – wondering just who this Shiratorizawa student was and what connection you had to Oikawa.

“At this rate, you’ll be branded a traitor, (L/N)-chan.” Tendou joked, making you tense up at the voice. You spotted him, along with three other students from your school sitting a little farther back from the Seijō crowd.

“I can’t be interested in some of my old friends?” You teased back, walking up to where they were sitting.

“Just don’t cry when I demolish your boyfriend.”

“He’s not-!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Tendou interrupted, turning back to the court as Karasuno neared the Aobajōsai side of the court to bow and offer their own thanks. “Besides, why be interested in him when we have cuties like this one?”

Tendou quickly grabbed at Shirabu’s cheeks, forcing the setter’s frown into a puckered fish-face for a quick second before the brunet nearly mauled his fellow teammate. You rolled your eyes at the antic, but said nothing to acknowledge the question.

You turned back, watching as Kageyama’s distant eyes never wandered higher than eye-level, obviously devastated that this was the result of all his training.

“Kageyama!” You yelled, hoping that the setter would hear you over the applause.

He had, looking up at the stands and seeing you wave at him. There was no hiding his surprise and it looked like he wanted to yell something back, but was instructed by his captain that it was time to head back to the coaches. Kageyama simply waved to you and then ran back to join the others.

“Or is it that one, all along?” Tendou asked in a low voice, eyes following the Karasuno setter before they slide over to you.

You hadn’t heard the red-head, turning back and going out to where the teams were convening downstairs. You attempted to look at the Karasuno crowd, but your own team was assembling for some strategy concerning your own final, the very next day.

After three games, the Shiratorizawa women’s team was pronounced winners of the Interhigh-Prelim. Everyone was aware of your school’s name, it’s reputation – how a win like this was simply expected of you.

But absolute winner did not cover the fact that your face ached from a receive to the face, unable to raise your hands in the visible route of the insane spike of your friend. Or the fact that one of your middle blockers was now actively sporting a limp, pain exploding in her ankle after having a bad landing in an awkward spot after successfully cutting off their ace. Or the fact that one of your regular wing-spikers was now benched, an ice-pack on her knee after her old-injury was sprouting after having to be used so many times.

Or the fact that you nearly cried with joy when you heard the immense crowd of Shiratorizawa cheerleaders and students chant your name, after you performed a setter dump.

None of these details really mattered in most people’s eyes. 

You were Shiratorizawa – winners to the core. They had no sympathy for your story or the hard-earned journey you made to the top, many just expected it with no empathy, and it made you scowl.

You and your team lined-up after the match, the cheering growing to a loud uproar as the cheerleaders, alumni section, and just immense crowd of students chanted the victory screech for Shiratorizawa.

You waved with both hands at your parents as they cheered your name even louder.

This was your second-year in Shiratorizawa, but your first time as a regular on the team. Your friends in Seijō were seeing your skill first-hand in the match, from start to finish, as your team had utterly demolished their hopes in progressing to nationals. You were a skilled setter before, but your time at the Academy had honed you better than you ever were. You gained experience from playing other powerhouses from around the country, even some local colleges who were willing to challenge you.

You were on a completely different level than where you were as the captain of Kitagawa Daiichi.

Your friends had accepted long ago your association with Shiratorizawa, but actively putting your face and actions to their defeat obviously strained their feelings toward you more and more.

You made sure to smile at them before the match, attempting to placate the tense feeling of fighting against your friends, but it was obvious that their friendship with you was getting harder and harder to maintain. After the game, they had completely ignored you – your current friends in Shiratorizawa advising you that it was just the heat of the match. 

But you knew better and simply kept walking away as they ignored you.

The men’s team was able to defeat Aobajōsai in only two matches – Oikawa’s bitter glare and Iwaizumi’s tense frown being sent directly into your own heart.

In the end, everyone deserves to win.

But there was only one winner in the end – you mused. Taking one last look, Oikawa not greeting you this time when he saw you at the line-up, you walked away from the match and back downstairs to the lobby.

It was just too much for your heart, all at once.

You sent a text to both third-years the next day: I’m proud of you guys! Don’t let Ushijima get you down. Iwaizumi answered within minutes, thanking you for the encouragement and even complimenting you on your jump-serve, since he caught a glimpse of your game.

Oikawa never answered.

Back at school, the coaches for both the men’s and women’s team allowed a rest-day on Friday’s holiday – Family Day – claiming that everyone needed to take a breather and that they had earned it from their win.

GroupChat: Caw Caw SHIRATORIZAWA ୧༼ д ͡༽୨

11:23   From: Captain-Sama!             congrats to all !! ✿♥‿♥✿

11:23   From: Captain-Sama!                           may your crops be watered and your skin is clear

11:23   From: Coconut-head             thank you!! And for you as well ٩(♡ε♡ )۶

11:23   From: Ushiwaka-sama!             thank you I am checking my plants now

11:23   From: do you know da wae             I have exactly one succulent

11:23   From: the most tender Salami           lmao thanks b attached:oikawameme.jpg

11:23   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            why must you call plants that @doyouknowdawae

11:23   From: do you know da wae            y

11:23   From: do you know da wae ��          are you jealous of my good succc ??

11:23   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩            LMAOOO

11:24   From: the most tender Salami              holy shit

11:24   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            fight me

11:24   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩              ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

11:24   From: the most tender Salami            (f/n) gives me hope for our meme legacy :’)

11:24   From: do you know da wae            i gotchu bby boo

11:24   From: do you know da wae            maybe I’ll even bring you back food from break

11:24   From: Captain-Sama!            am I the only one staying on campus for family day? :’)

11:24   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )            myself + Shirabu are staying as well

11:25   From: do you know da wae            aw guys I’ll bring some of my mom’s oyakodon when I get back!

11:25   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )            thank you!!

11:25   From: the most tender Salami            my food is now forgotten :’)

11:25   From: Captain-Sama!            you live closer to Karasuno and Seijooo, right?

11:25   From: do you know da wae            yaaaas

11:26   From: Captain-Sama!            ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

11:26   From: the most tender Salami            ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

11:26   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩              ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

11:26   From: do you know da wae            ｢(ﾟﾍﾟ)

11:26   From: Captain-Sama!            don’t think we didn’t notice your little exchange with one of the freak quick kids

11:26   From: do you know da wae            oh

11:27   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            (f/n) cant have other friends ??

11:27   From: the most tender Salami            oh come on we all know they shared

11:27   From: the most tender Salami            the look attached: hearteyes.jpg

11:27   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )            oh no the matchmaker is back in business

11:27   From: Captain-Sama!            oikawa then kags are you hiding any other setters ??

You were lounging on your bed during common hour, hesitating in your next answer and trying to decide if you were either going to mess with everyone or just end it there. But, you always loved sowing some seeds of discord with your favorite volleyball nerds. Typing in…

11:28   From: do you know da wae            im actually in love with one of the miyas

11:28   From: the most tender Salami            gasp

11:28   From: My only Okaasan/Eita            he can jump up his own ass

11:28   From: Ushiwaka-sama!            he is a good setter

11:28   From: Captain-Sama!            but a complete douche

11:28   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )            I do not approve

11:28   From: the most tender Salami            that’s how you know he’s that bad, yamagata doesn’t ship it

11:29   From: Coconut-head attached: ???meme.jpg

11:29   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            ＼| ￣ヘ￣|／

11:29   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩           who the fuck

11:29   From: the most tender Salami            third from left attached: InarizakiHigh.jpg

11:29   From: do you know da wae            tbh didn’t expect anyone to know who that was

11:30   From: the most tender Salami            lmao sweetie we live and breathe vball

11:30   From: Captain-Sama!            also unfortunately he was at a vbc camp with some of us

11:30   From: the most tender Salami            I’d rather approve of you with oiks

11:30   From: do you know da wae            lmao nah

11:30   From: Captain-Sama!            these RECEIPTS would beg to differ Attached: oinkawa.jpg; jointpractice.jpg; bakawa.jpg

11:31   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            holy

11:31   From: the most tender Salami            I knew it was true love 11:31   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            where is everyone’s chill ???

11:31   From: Ushiwaka-sama!            you will be a nice Shiratorizawa couple

11:31   From: the most tender Salami            LMAO

11:32   From: do you know da wae            why does this keep happening

11:32   From: do you know da wae            only kenjiro understands me

11:32   From: My only Okaasan/Eita            ive known waka forever and even I don’t know why he’s like this with Oikawa

11:32   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            its bc we’re the only normal ones

11:33   From: Ushiwaka-sama!            I’m not with Oikawa, he doesn’t even go to Shiratorizawa

11:33   From: Ushiwaka-sama!            a mistake in itself

11:33   From: Captain-Sama!            IM SCREAMING

11:33   From: the most tender Salami            wakanda forever

11:33   From: do you know da wae            LMAO I was thinking that too but decided against texting it

11:34   From: the most tender Salami            wait a second

11:34   From: the most tender Salami            kenjiro x (f/n) >.>>>>>>

11:34   From: do you know da wae            lmao don’t even

11:34   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩              lmao well

11:35   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩              ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

11:35   From: do you know da wae            we all know that if that if kenjiro’s girlfriend hears this she’ll literally shank me

11:35   From: the most tender Salami            lmao true

11:35   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            she doesn’t even like me

11:36   From: do you know da wae            what a lie

11:36   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩             hard retweet

11:36   From: Captain-Sama!            we all know the alpha ship

11:37   From: the most tender Salami            oikawa x (f/n) x kags

11:37   From: Captain-Sama!            LMAO

11:37   From: do you know da wae            end me pls

11:37   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩             oof didn’t know you were into that

11:37   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            they can definitely do that for you

11:38   do you know da wae            …

You rolled your eyes at their antics, conversation on constant haywire. But you would not have it any other way. Most people would look at your school, the simple name and already have connotation to others. Yes, you were a powerhouse school. But that did not change the fact that you were all teenagers, just like everyone else. And with it came the continuous antics of meme-lovers.

Throwing your phone back on your bed and turning to look out the window, you were happy to have a day to yourself to finally make sense of everything happening. You were proud of your win at the Interhigh Tournament, no matter how bitter or lost your friendship had become with the people you were once the closest to.

Your texted your parents about the three-day break for Family Day and they had immediately pushed for you to come back home, where they would hold a celebratory dinner along with some other families they were close to and invited. You told your roommate about it and how embarrassing they were, but she countered that it was a sweet gesture, since she held a close relationship to her own parents as well.

“They’re just proud of their little girl, that’s all!” She teased, grabbing your head into a small nuggie. She was much taller than you, a middle-blocker who was still serving as an alternate.

Most of the other members of the team were also heading home on Thursday night, eager to visit their homes and parents and finally have a home-cooked meal after being away for half the semester. You personally looked forward to your mother’s cooking and said goodbyes to your teammates after your last class on Thursday.

Your dorm at Shiratorizawa was much farther than your home, actually sitting between Karasuno High and Aobajōsai. You considered jogging the entire way, but it was a rare break and decided to give your body one as well (at least just for the weekend, of course). Coming off the train, you spotted the street sign pointing to the aforementioned high-school and heavily considered visiting the old-time friend and setter that you had yet to have a formal conversation with in a good two years.

You had some time to kill and decided that maybe it was not such bad idea.

You neared the school and heard the tell-tale sounds of sneakers and volleyballs being tossed about.

Standing in the already open doorway, you spotted several faces that you recognized from the Interhigh game still training. They wore serious expressions, studying their abilities very carefully and working to fix the kinks in what they planned to bring to the table.

“Japan!” You heard someone shout over the others, the owner of the voice pointing at you as they looked at you in surprise, before they ran over to where you were standing.

You waved at the orange-haired middle-blocker, smiling as you did so. “I remember you. Good spikes, little dude.” You complimented, patting the top of his head as he blushed at the physical contact.

You turned back to the gym, stopping the blush crawling to your cheeks as every male looked at you in genuine curiosity. You kept scanning, until finally seeing the setter you were looking for.

Kageyama was already walking up to you, smacking the head of the still sheepish middle-blocker and muttering hinata boke, before he greeted you in a neutral voice.

“(L/N)-san.” He stated simply, inclining his head as he did so.

“Kageyama-kun, didn’t expect us to meet again like this.”

You felt the looming presence of two behind you and turned to see two males peering at you with open interest. One of them, that was the taller of the two, asked toward you, “Eh, Kageyama. How do you know Shiratorizawa’s setter?”

You smiled at the two looming boys and answered, “We went to Kitagawa Daiichi together.”

The two held their hearts with open euphoric expressions, happy that you were even gracing them with a response.

Kageyama fought the urge to slap them on the head as well, before adding. “She helped me with my jump-serves when Oikawa had refused to.”

You just kept on smiling, unsure what to say or add when the boys before you had yet to say anything at all as well.

“You give me too much credit.” You countered, “You were a monster on the court the other day.”

Asahi silently studied your figure, distantly remembering your sharp jump-serve that he had gleaned from your match, it was something you were personally known for after all. A setter who was capable of shutting out the team from making any offensive plays to begin with – you really were one of Oikawa’s students after all.

“Nice to meet a senpai to our little monster.” The captain teased, offering his name – Daichi.

“What are you doing here?” Kageyama asked you, trying to keep his voice leveled.

“Both volleyball teams were given breaks until Monday, consider it a blessing for winning Interhigh.”

“Wah! I remember you.” Hinata, you recalled from earlier, stating. “You did that thing that Oikawa did to us. He went pow and was about to set and then boom it was a spike!”

You nodded, surprised on how truly enthusiastic and just all-around pure the small middle-blocker was proving to be. This was the same volleyball player who was part of the freak quick duo you had seen for the first time not long ago. Eyes shining with determination and an indescribable aura, it was a complete change to the young man jumping with joy in front of you now.

You turned back to Kageyama, “I wanted to see how you were doing. I saw your game and was just wondering…” You trailed off.

Kageyama hesitated, a small frown still evident on his visage. “We have practice now.”

You dropped your sports bag to the side, “Sure. I don’t mind helping out with jump-serves or something if you guys need it.” You paused at the silence, “It feels weird not having practice during the week anyway.”

“Jump-serve? Shiratorizawa?” The coach asked with a finger on his chin, before it morphed to a smirk. “Better make the most of it!” He directed to the group.

You felt the evident hesitation in the air, several of the older looking men simply looking at you with no words coming out. But that did not stop the little orange to bound up to you without restraint, eyes gleaming with anticipation at whatever question was being held behind those wide orbs.

“Do you mind showing me your jump serve?” Hinata asked with hands held up to his chest, excitement apparent through his lack of restraint.

“Don’t crowd her, boke.” Kageyama bit out, but you waved him off with your hand and a relaxed grin.

Offering a small smile, in hopes of softening some of his reserve, you took the ball that Hinata was offering you and glanced up toward the rest of the group. The moment your eyes came to, the older (you assumed) third-years, were ushering other members to get back to their own practice. A man with silver hair was pushing his younger ones to their previous positions, but it was obvious that their eyes were following you as you walked across the court.

“Stand back, little dude.” You motioned with your free hand as you paced further back past the line.

Holding the volleyball out with your dominant hand, you took a deep breath and launched it up into the air above you. Examining it with keen eyes, you smashed it forward, close to the outer corner of the other-side, but within the bounds.

“Uwah!” You heard his cheer of excitement from the side and turned to see a bright and eager smile.

It seemed that all the other commotion in the gym had stopped as you readied to serve, silence now much more evident as they took a full gander at you – the one capable and widely known for your monster serve. You felt eyes peering at you, but they quickly averted as you timidly looked around the room for yourself.

All but two pairs of eyes, both of which you were sure were burning into your head.

“Allow me to receive your serves!” You heard the voice from behind you, turning to see a male who was a shorter than you, with two-toned hair.

“Sure.” You muttered, surprised at the humble request of a libero you had heard so much of before.

This continued until the next rotation, a strange smile on your face from being on the other side of practice. Your coach knew better than anyone your strengths and definitely exploited your weaknesses when it came to your own practice. You distantly remembered having to do a cursed number of jump serves and, even though it was your forte, there were tears in your eyes for just how much you ached.

“Here.” An older man inclined a water bottle in your direction. “My name’s Asahi.”

“Thanks. Nice to meet you.” You nodded back in appreciation, slightly intimidated from his tall stature and rugged appearance.

Forcing yourself to steel your spine, you recalled how you were previously incredibly apprehensive around Ushiwaka, who turned out to be the biggest volleyball idiot on the planet.

“Something up?” You asked with a raised brow.

“Do you mind, walking me through your serve?” He hesitated in his request, making you inwardly surprised that a man so big and bulky, was coming to you so humbly.

Again, Karasuno seemed to surprise you.

You walked home with Kageyama after practice, floors mopped and nets neatly stored away. You were so used to your dorm at Shiratorizawa, the walk home felt familiar and yet distant – it was strange to you. The both of your homes were only a few streets separated from one another, you remembered from the walks home you would have together before in junior high. And you decided on spending the beginning of the walk together in comfortable silence.

Or at least comfortable for you.

Kageyama was inwardly struggling to say literally anything.

He remembered you as the type of person who hung around Oikawa and Iwaizumi, two people who often had no qualms in engaging in conversation. You had a bright smile, unlike his own. 

And yet here you were, simply gazing ahead to the commute in front of you without a single word uttered. Kageyama had to stop himself from the physical nervous tick in his fingertips.

“I can’t explain it, but there’s just something different about you.” You stated, slowly moving your gaze over to the setter at the end of your sentence.

It was clear that Kageyama had no idea what to say, sputtering but no actual words coming out.

“It’s not a bad thing, not at all.” You raised your hands, waving them in defense. “Don’t worry, Kageyama-kun.”

“How can I not…” You heard him mutter under your breath, making you lightly chuckle at his words.

“It’s definitely a good thing.” You complimented, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder and making him instantly shy once again. “Why are you so shy, now?”

“What do you mean?” He raised a brow.

“It’s just me, no need to feel so tense.”

Kageyama hesitated, “Thank you.”

“For today? No worries, a small part of it was selfish since I wanted to see you.” You admitted.

You could hear his breath hitch, before he added okay.

“You’re such a blueberry, Kageyama-kun.” You laughed at his disposition.

“What does that even mean?! Boke.” His apprehension was quickly pushed aside at his frustrated words, making you chuckle at him even more.

You reached Kageyama’s home first, a sight you had not seen for yourself in the past year. Even when you returned back home, this was a little out of the way from your usual commute. But this was strange, it seemed completely the same no matter how much time had passed. It always just seemed…

… Empty.

You turned to Kageyama, “Are you spending family day alone, Kageyama-kun?”

“Yeah.”

You gauged his reaction, despite his rough exterior, Kageyama did not exhibit a hint of a frown or sadness at the answer. Rather, his response was rather plain – as if this occurrence was normal and not even disappointing to the setter anymore. This realization hurt your heart, having such comforting and supportive parents of your own, Kageyama deserved just as much.

Kageyama was used to spending his time alone, that much was evident.

“Would you like to have dinner with us tomorrow, for family day?”

He looked at you fully, apprehension palpable, but stated anyway. “Sure.”

You exchanged phone numbers as a formality, but saw that both of you had your previous numbers saved in each of your phones. It made you slightly happy, that Kageyama decided on keeping your phone number despite your time apart at different schools.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Kageyama-kun.”

“Boke, I’ll walk you.”

You tilted your head and pointed in the direction of your home, “It’s not that far–”

“It’s dangerous, you never know.” He interrupted, brisk words in evident contrast to his sheepish strides in front of you.

You just kept on smiling the way home.

“Would you like to come in?” You offered to which he nodded. You slid the door open and greeted. “Mom, dad! I’m home, I have Kageyama with me.”

“Come in sweetie, I’m in the kitchen!” You heard your mom’s voice, the sweet smell of her cooking fliting through the room and to your growling stomach. “Your dad is still picking some stuff up for tomorrow.”

You settled your bag at the end of the stairs before making your way over. “Hey.”

“Look at my favorite swan!” She wrapped her arms around your shoulders and then lightly squeezed your cheeks, “Now an official winner, too!”

“Mom, stop.” You grumbled, wrestling your face away from your ongoing embarrassment.

“Kageyama, good to see you too!” She greeted. “You’ve always been so tall – look at you now, all handsome.”

You laughed at Kageyama’s reddened face, no worries coming out of his goldfish expression.

Your mom continued, “I meant to stop by your home last week, I still owe your mom thanks for the calla lilies.”

“Oh. They’ll be back next week.”

Your mom paused, turning her head in question as she looked at the young man. With a newly determined face, she glanced at you and then toward Kageyama, “Would you like to join us for family day, then? We’re having a few people over and we would love to have you as well.”

“I already invited him, mom.” You stated, taking some dough off the table to eat as a small snack, which resulted in a large smack on the back of your head.

“Perfect.” Your mom assured, “I’m still cooking now, but you’re welcome to join us for dinner tonight as well.”

Kageyama backed-up with his hands raised, “I couldn’t barge in on (F/N)’s first night back with her family–“

You interrupted, this time. “Nonsense, Kageyama-kun.”

“Here, Kageyama-kun can help me with this little bit. (F/N) unpack your things upstairs and then come help set the table.”

You nodded, taking her orders without delay as Kageyama settled into the rhythm of your family.

“You were such a stern boy, back in Kitagawa Daiichi. I’m glad to see you’ve lightened up.” Your mother commented, passing the young setter some greens over the kitchen table.

By now, the meal was ready and the four of you, with the new addition of your father, were enjoying a quaint dinner to celebrate you finally visiting home after so long.

“Lightened, that’s a good word for it.” You added.

“There’s definitely a difference.” Your dad observed, “I was glad to see you’re still enjoying volleyball – still as gifted as ever.”

Kageyama paused, “You’ve seen me play?”

“Of course. There’s no denying the shock we still have when we see you serve. And that quick toss, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do it like that before.” Your mom replied, “We saw your game against Aobajōsai, there’s no doubt in anyone’s minds that you’ve grown as a person.”

“Game nearly gave me a heart attack – I’ll never get used to your brunette friend.”  You dad pointedly stated toward you before turning to Kageyama, “But I’ll be honest, even though we’re closer to the Oikawa’s, I was rooting you.” He winked.

“Honey.” Your mom lightly slapped his shoulder with a smile.

“Of course, the highlight of the tournament for us was cheering our daughter on to her first official tournament win.” Your father continued, waving off her light admonishment with a grin of his own.

“Wait.” You saw the little hamster running in Kagyeama’s mind, “You watched the last few days of the tournament?”

“I wasn’t about to miss my daughter become champion!” You father bellowed, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Even if I have to use my vacation days at work, I would hate to miss something so important to her.”

Kageyama continued staring, eyes never leaving your father. There was no doubt that Kageyama lived and breathed volleyball, he loved it more than anything else really. But, his parents had yet to even begin to understand the dedication he had toward the sport. Kageyama could not remember the last time they had attended one of his games or even tournaments.

The expression on Kageyama’s face was so far-gone, it made you want to do something to comfort him.

Apparently, your parents thought the same way.

“You’ll definitely get ‘em next time.” Your dad motioned toward Kageyama. “Seriously, that quick attack you have – I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“We’ll be rooting you on again.” You mom reassured Kageyama, offering a plate of meat toward the setter who was staring at them with wide eyes.

He took the plate with hesitant hands. That’s how you knew Kageyama was so surprised, the fact that he was even wavering to eat meat – his king of food.

“Don’t look so surprised.” Your father joked before turning to Kageyama fully with a serious expression, “We’re proud of you.”

You smiled at their words. 

You knew your parents well, just as they knew you, but here they were being entirely honest. Your parents did everything they could to have you in a loving environment – and this required being honest with what they wanted and what all parties were feeling. Meaning, they were not dressing up their words to the silent setter.

They really were proud of him.

You put a comforting hand in the crook of his elbow, since he was sitting beside you. That seemed to snap Kageyama out of his stupor, his glazed eyes turning to you and then between your parents.

“Thank you.” Kageyama paused, “Really.”

This was probably the extent of his social ability, you inwardly joked before offering the plate back to your parents. The poor dude was close to exploding, you could tell, and tried to steer the conversation away from the setter before that happened.

It was strange to Kageyama, the effort your parents took in spending time with you or even just what you were interested in. Your parents commented that they always downloaded your games if they were broadcasted on television, eager just to see how you were doing or wanting to send you an encouraging text about something you had done during the match.

Kageyama really felt the love in your family.

Your father walked him to the door, once dinner and dessert was done. Offering a goodbye and a literal see you tomorrow. Kageyama felt guilty, even in the face of your whole family telling him it was no issue, leaving your mom no choice but to task him with bringing a small cake for the gathering tomorrow.

Kageyama put a hand on the gate to your house, looking back with a small smile before continuing on his walk back home.

You spent the next day preparing for the small gathering that night. You only hoped that your parents would not embarrass you later. Kneading dough and humming along to the song through the speakers, you spent the calm morning alongside your mother in the kitchen. Your dorm only had a microwave, since you were still an underclassman with no privileges to a kitchen yet. It was a great change to finally have a cooked meal.

You greeted the first family with a smile, unaware of the feelings of one in particular.

“Hey, glad you guys could make.” You started, turning to the side for the new guests to enter. The parents smiled at you, inattentive to the tension between you and their daughter.

“Good to see you, (F/N). Congrats on your win, as well.” The father greeted as he passed you.

You turned to your friend, “I haven’t really seen you in a while.”

“Our last two sets was three days ago.” She bit out, glancing at you briefly before walking into your home.

You had always worried about this. 

You loved your friends; your time at Kitagawa Daiichi held a special place in your heart – but that was nothing compared to the continual animosity they held for your school. The rivalry between Shiratorizawa and Aobajōsai was not a surface level problem, it was one that was seemingly burning to the core of each blue-clad student. They wanted nothing more than to absolutely destroy you, even if you were their friend. And the fact that you were a forerunner in the women’s team’s defeat, it made them dislike you even more.

You could not withhold the long sigh that escaped you.

Your parents were always the type to participate in fundraisers or school events and, being a previous member of a strong school like Kitagawa Daiichi, meant that they were in constant association with other parents to kids just like you. You loved it at the time, since it was obvious display of their support for you and the sport. 

But now, after leaving the life-track of your Kitagawa Daiichi friends…

It’s not that there were no other parents that yours could connect with at Shiratorizawa. But it was harder for your parents since most of the others knew each other from Shiratorizawa junior high – meaning they already had their tight knit clique of parent association friends. It was not like your parents did not try either, but they were just closer to the friends they made at Kitagawa Daiichi. It also helped that your home was closer to the schools as well. Which meant that…

Some of their closest friends were parents from your time in junior high.

Meaning most of those invited today were probably now attending Aobajōsai.

You had to stop yourself from slapping your forehead against the door.

Your home was littered with various families containing your friends – or ex-friends? They had never actually confirmed anything to you verbally – making you want to literally throw yourself out the window and down the street into the river and hopefully float down back to Shiratorizawa.

If not for your parents, you would have had no problems walking back to school today if it meant avoiding this.

Opening the door after the telltale sign of the doorbell, you nervously smiled before the caustic eyes of the Oikawa family. Tōru, along with his parents, older sister with her husband and son, greeted you at the door as you stepped aside for them to enter. The older Oikawa dragged you into a hug, claiming you’ve grown way too much and that she was proud of your recent win. Takeru handed you a flower and you recognized it from the nearby park.

You were most nervous of Tōru – his reaction to you after the Interhigh Tournament was unlike how he had ever treated you before. Even as a newly minted Shiratorizawa student, he still took the effort to catch up with you and even text you back. But since the tournament he had been ignoring you. Iwaizumi reassured you that it was nothing personal, it was just your school that inflamed him.

But it just made it all the more awkward to be inviting Oikawa into your home now.

The rest of his family made their way into your home, but Tōru took his time in taking off his shoes and stand in the foyer area alone with you, hazel eyes locking with yours and never turning away.

“You’ve always been an amazing setter, I hope you know that.” You started.

He blinked slowly, eyes making their way from the bottom of your shoes all the way up to your face. It felt like you were being examined, his intense stare and uncharacteristic quietness raking through every detail of your body – no wonder your fellow students at Shiratorizawa found him to be intimidating. Oikawa really could be if he tried and it hurt your heart that you were now placed at the completely other side of a friendship.

Hazel eyes narrowed when he reached your face, “I don’t need your pity.”

You grabbed his elbow before he could walk away, “It’s not. Tōru, you need to know that. You’ve always been an incredible setter I look up to and that will never change.”

Oikawa looked at you but said nothing. At least his expression was more neutral, rather than its previous hints of resentment.

“Take away the names, the labels, the stupid school colors – you’re an amazing setter. And you will always have a place in my heart as my first mentor.” You admitted, watching as his eyes slowly widened with each word.

You continued, “Which is why I hate to see you beat yourself up over this. You mean so much to me, to so many people – I just want you to treat yourself right.”

Oikawa closed his eyes, seemingly taking in all of your words and letting it process one more time in his mind. When hazel eyes were peering at you one more, he had a slight smirk on his face, but you could tell that it was morphing into a genuine smile.

“Thank you, (F/N).” He tugged on your hand his time, free arm coming around your waist to bring you into a hug.

You felt his head lean against the top of yours, relishing in the moment that you could be there for your older senpai, one that had taught you so much when you were first starting your beloved sport. There was so much you wanted to convey to him and your really believed in your heart that Oikawa deserved to go to nationals – but you were just happy that he was not mad at you anymore.

“I really mean that much to you, huh?” You could hear the telltale signs that Oikawa’s teasing voice was edging back and you lifted a brow as the setter spoke, “I knew Shiratorizawa couldn’t take you away from me. You really must love me.”

You rolled your eyes, Oikawa was coming back to you.

He lightly pushed at your shoulders, one arm still around your waist but the other holding you a good enough distance so that he could peer down at you.

“Please wait for me, for marriage.” He winked.

Immediately you were pushing his arm away and turning to hammer your elbow into his ribcage. Oikawa back away immediately, muttering a curse and yelling at your violent nature.

“You’re lucky Iwaizumi’s family left for vacation or you would’ve gotten a real ass-whooping.” You stated in a dead-pan voice, making Oikawa sigh at you and mutter true.

You were happy to have at least keep your friendship with Tōru, even if your relationships with your past female friends were nothing short of a complete garbage fire at this point.

The brunette led you by hand into the living room, where many of the others were already socializing. You could literally feel the gossip spreading already, prolonged stares at where you were joined at the hands with Tōru, the whispers between the older parents, and even his own damn sister taking one look and then winking at the both of you.

You attempted to flick his hand away, but Tōru simply chastised you for being a brat.

You had to fight the urge to kick his shins.

He took out his phone and the two of you posed for the picture, joined hands visible from the angle. You wondered if this would be worth the sudden death via Shiratorizawa’s roasting if Oikawa posted this to Instabook, but you figured he would not since you were still on tense relations with literally everyone (sans Iwaizumi) from his team.

Your savior came in the form of the doorbell, immediately springing away from the hazel-haired setter and to the last awaited guest. He still followed you over, leaning his side against the doorway as he waited for you to open the door.

“Glad you made it, Kageyama-kun.” You greeted, taking the box of food from his hands so he could take his shoes off.

“Thanks again, for inviting me.”

“No problem. Make yourself at home.”

Turning back to Oikawa, you could see he was standing at full attention now - posture haughty, narrowed eyes, raised chin, and a small scowl on his visage.

You wondered if there would be a fight today.

Kageyama lost to Oikawa and your friends lost to you.

What the hell were your parents thinking????

You led Kageyama back to the living room, the both of you standing awkwardly as the current Aobajōsai kids talked amongst each other. Oikawa stood the side, surveying the situation before tsking, then walking over to you and leading you to sit in the empty armchair while he leaned on the armrest. He placed a lazy arm across the back and you fought the urge to say a sarcastic remark.

It immediately became silent, parents conversing on the other side of the dining room, unknowing to the tense situation in the center of the living room amongst the young teens.

Tōru was making it pretty obvious that he was draping his presence all around you. First leading you by the hand and sitting very close to you, even encompassing himself around you via his arm.

“Since when are you so chummy?” One of the girls asked toward you.

“We’re just friends!” You immediately raised your hands in defense. Oikawa said nothing as he raised a brow.

Another one of them sputtered, “You’re friends with Oikawa, but you don’t even try with us?”

“That’s not true. I tried talking to you and you ignored me.”

You could tell she was growing agitated as she bit back, “Why should I even try? All you do is beat us – practice matches, official games, tournaments.”

“Well, I’m playing to win.” You said with a raised brow, unsure where they were going with this.

“But why couldn’t you even try to play to win with us?” She huffed, “I get it. You wanted to be on a team of absolute winners and obviously that does not mean us. You’re the one who walked away because we weren’t worth it, right?”

You tried to get a word in, but she raised her hand for you to stop. Turning her head away from you, it was clear that no matter what you said, she was not going to listen. You looked at the other friends you had from Kitagawa Daiichi, most frowning before averting their eyes from you.

One of them took one hard look at you, keeping your eye contact, before she got up and walked away.

You felt the pain pinprick behind your eyes, the small sign of indication that tears were building on your visage. Not wanting to show your weak state to people who obviously hate you at this point, you quickly stood up and made your way to the back-porch area. Oikawa attempted to stop you, but you finagled your hand out of his grasp as you left.

You leaned against the wooden railing, wondering just how fucked up the situation grew and how different it could have been.

It hurt even more knowing that her words were true. You tried so hard, your last year of junior high, to pass the entrance exam for Shiratorizawa. That was your main goal the entire time, get into your dream school and that will make you an absolute winner. You had never, once, considered going to Aobajōsai as something desirable. It was not your second choice and honestly not even your third (Itachiyama and Fukurōdani reserved those spots). Aobajōsai sat as your last choice, something you did not actually want to do since it was inferior in your view.

But for your friends, it was their main and only choice.

You would never regret going to Shiratorizawa, it was your school and just because they resented it, did not mean that you did not deserve the title of winners.

But it still hurt that they hated you thusly.

You fought the urge to scream at the sky, when you felt an awkward, but comforting hand on your shoulder.

“They hate me too.”

“They don’t hide it well, Kageyama-kun.” You turned to him fully, a wistful smile on your face.

“It seems… Oikawa still treasures you.”

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, he can be a complete asswipe.” Kageyama smiled at this, “But he’s still a brilliant setter and someone I wish the best for.”

Kageyama leaned his arms against the rail, eyes still trained on you. “Why do you care so much about people who want nothing to do with you?”

“I hate that I care so much.” You admitted, “But they were my friends – I held a leadership position for two years, even as their captain goddamnit. My time with them meant so much to me and it just hurts that it obviously didn’t have the same impact.”

Kageyama looked at you fully, a wondering expression on his visage.

“Was it worth it? Going to Shiratorizawa?”

“If I could go back, I wouldn’t change a thing.” You stated. “You?”

“I would still go to Karasuno.”

“Really? King of the Court?” You teased and watched the angry tick form at his forehead, “You wouldn’t come to the school of swans and absolute winners?”

Kageyama had a grim smile, one that indicated that he was thinking hard. “Now, probably not.”

“Wait, really?”

“No.” He hesitated, “I think I can really grow with Karasuno.”

“That’s great to hear.”  You smiled,  “Then let’s continue to live without regrets.”

“I try, but I understand.” Kageyama replied.

“Oh?”

“I remember what it’s like to turn around and no longer see a team.”

You felt your heart sag, recalling the headlines of Kitagama Daiichi’s loss. “But that won’t happen on Karasuno, right?”

Kageyama looked down and smiled, “No. It won’t.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m still rooting for you.” You said as you winked, causing Kageyama to flush red immediately.

The two of you stood in comfortable silence until the screen door opened.

“Never thought I’d see you two together like this.” Oikawa observed from the doorway.

“It’s not like that.” You waved your hand to casually dismiss his statement.

Oikawa walked toward Kageyama, stopping only at an arm’s length from him. “Good, I’ll have you know (F/N) is waiting for me for marriage.”

You actually tried to punch him in the stomach, like a full-on solid right cross on the annoying brunette, but Oikawa nearly growled and maneuvered you instead. Now, your arm was twisted behind your back and you felt Oikawa’s chest against your spine. You were about to tell Kageyama that Tōru was joking and would get a formal ass-whopping from Iwaizumi when you let him know, but you heard another voice call from just inside the house.

“Oh, this is where you all were! We’re starting dinner, come inside!” Your mom urged.

The other students said nothing when you joined them this time, probably only since you were now in the presence of parents and real adults. Kageyama sat on your right while Oikawa was on your left, you attempted to include both of them in conversation, but it was obvious that anything either setter said would immediately set the other off.

“Kageyama, would you like some more meat?” You asked, turning to him with a hopeful smile.

“Why don’t you pass me that plate instead, (F/N)?” Oikawa immediately countered before he could even answer.

Oikawa snapped another picture at dinner, one with you alongside him and flashing a peace sign at the camera and Kageyama munching away in the background as he listened passively to the others.

After dinner you returned back outside to the patio with Kageyama, now joined by others as they flit through the house.

“God, I’m sorry this is so awful.” You stated as you stood alongside the porch, shoulders touching side-by-side.

“It could be worse.” Kageyama offered, “Thank you for including me.”

“Always.” You replied, “I know we weren’t exactly close, but I did miss you for what its worth.”

Kageyama hesitated, “You don’t have to say that.”

“Why do you say that?”

“No one missed me in junior high.”

You poked him in the chest and demanded his whole attention, “Well, I did.”

The both of you lingered there for the night. Catching up on lost time and for the various woes you had in high school. Kageyama was still quiet as ever, but still offered words not unkindly throughout the conversation. 

It was nice to have one-on-one time with the setter. To think that even being from the same school, the times you were able to do this could be counted on two hands. You hardly ever sat down and had a serious talk with him in the past and any insight into the misunderstood setter had you hanging onto every word.

It was no surprise later that the Karasuno setter was the first to leave. You did not blame the pour soul since he was literally the most far removed from the families present (the next probably being you).

Walking Kageyama out the door and to your front-gate, you started. “I don’t know what it is with Oikawa and you. He’s almost as bad as Ushijima when he’s with Oikawa.”

Kageyama raised a brow, unsure just how the proper Ushijima could be anything but.

“Anyway, don’t listen to Tōru.”

He cracked a smile, “I never do.”

You lightly pushed his shoulder, “We both know that’s a lie.”

Kageyama just kept on smiling, not saying anything as he looked up at the night sky.

“Thanks for coming over. Sorry that literally everyone hates us.” You joked, “I don’t know when I’ll see you again, but stay in touch, okay?”

The little awkward bean nodded, but you could tell that this goodbye was incomplete. He offered a handshake, but that seemed too formal considering your friendship. You took the hand for a second, before pulling it and wrapping an arm around him into a hug.

“Get home safe, Kageyama-kun.” You murmured against his chest and felt the deep rumble that signified his affirmation. His other hand curled around you hesitantly, unsure in his actions as he tried his best to reciprocate the hug.

“Thank you, (L/N).”

Waving one last time, you saw Kageyama make his way down the street before he turned fully on his walk back home.

“I don’t remember the two of you being that close in junior high.” You heard Tōru’s familiar voice from the doorway. It seemed the brunet was constantly walking in and spying on your interactions with Kageyama.

“Maybe your judgement is always clouded around a certain blueberry.” You stated as you walked back into the house.

Oikawa rolled his eyes then placed a lazy arm around your waist, guiding you back inside.

“I don’t feel comfortable seeing my fiancé alone with my annoying kouhai.”

“Don’t you dare say that in front of the real adults.”

Oikawa chuckled at your vernacular, but his hand on your body only tightened. You looked at him with an inquisitive stare, then pointed to the offending limb.

“Are you going to be like this all night?”

“Why? Can’t resist me if I continue?”

You sighed before moving to poke him on the forehead.

He grabbed your hand quickly and pulled it close to his bodice, pushing you forward to lean further into Oikawa’s chest. Surprised at the action, he leaned his forehead against yours, eyes closing from the comfort of the close proximity. One arm was around your waist while the other was in your hair. 

You and Oikawa had always joked around, but never had you actually flirted. But feeling his large hands on your body and the soothing beat of his heart under your own, it was strange.

Oikawa whispered against your forehead, “I’m glad Shiratorizawa hasn’t changed you.”

You leaned back to look him fully in the eyes and returned in a similar tone of voice, “Don’t let it change you either.”

Oikawa had a small smile at that.

“Don’t stop on my accord.”

You jumped in surprised and tried to spring away from the brunet immediately, who slowly let go of his hold and allowed you room to stand next to him, arms still touching.

“It’s nothing like that.” You started, but Tōru’s sister just smiled and walked away, muttering about young love.

The rest of the night was thankfully uneventful, Oikawa giving you space to converse with his fellow schoolmates and you spent time playing with Takeru, his cute little nephew. You made sure to keep your words guarded around the other parents, when they commended you for your recent win at the tournament. It was weird, to say the least, to accept the compliments and praise of parents who had kids on the losing side (and they were present too! oof). At least, if it seemed your Kitagawa Daiichi friends were about to spite fire at you, Oikawa was quick to intervene and even stand by your side.

You were sure to pass out once everyone left the house, helping your mom in some light cleaning but saving the shore of it for future you.

Turning to your phone on the nightstand, since your mom utterly refused for you to use it when guests were around, you spotted dozens of missed texts and fought the urge to groan aloud.

You scrolled all the way back to the first message.

GroupChat: Caw Caw SHIRATORIZAWA ୧༼ д ͡༽୨

23:11   From: Captain-Sama!           what the fuck attached: instabook.jpg; screenshot.jpg;

23:11   From: the most tender Salami            looks like (f/n) actually took our advice and went with oiks and not miya

23:11   From: My only Okaasan/Eita            wait but what if they’ve been related this whole time?

23:11   From: Captain-Sama!           yeah it is family day

23:11   From: the most tender Salami           …

23:11   From: the most tender Salami           then that would mean an Oikawa actually does go to Shiratorizawa

23:12   From: Captain-Sama!           LMAO

23:12   From: Ushiwaka-sama!           this is not what I meant

23:12   From: My only Okaasan/Eita           we know, waka

23:12   From: the most tender Salami           but how can we confirm it

23:12   From: Captain-Sama!           (・_・)

23:12   From: Captain-Sama!           @kenjiro @kawanishi pls respond its urgent

23:12   From: the most tender Salami           @kenjiro @kawanishi help ive fallen and cant get up

23:27   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)           they are not related

23:27   From: Captain-Sama!           I KNEW THEY WERE DATING

23:27   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩           lmao no way

23:27   From: the most tender Salami           I need more receipts

23:27   From: Captain-Sama!           I think my ship is sailing (´∀｀)♡

23:28   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)           i don’t think so

23:28   From: Captain-Sama!           but they’re hOlDiNg HaNdS

You caught the gist of their conversation and scrolled down to the bottom, unwilling to read everything since you would have a whole hour to catch up to and with your sleepy eyes that just won’t do.

Without regard to whatever the last text was, you started:

00:57   From: do you know da wae           oiks is an old family friend

00:57   From: do you know da wae           my parents keep in touch w/ a lot of my ex-friends parents from Kitagawa

00:57   From: Captain-Sama!           oof sounds awk

00:57   From: do you know da wae           you have no idea

00:57   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)           wait your celebratory dinner was w/ the ex-friends you just beat ??

00:58   From: do you know da wae           yeah…

00:58   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩           oof

00:58   From: do you know da wae           oikawa was the only one from Seijō willing to talk to me without the need to shank me

00:58   From: do you know da wae           and even then they made sure to verbally roast me at every opportunity

00:58   From: the most tender Salami           wow

00:59   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )           we love you (L/N)!

00:59   From: Captain-Sama!           just know that we’re always here for you! ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ)

You smiled then and offered thanks, before shutting off your phone and finally getting a good nights rest after such an awful day.

The next day at breakfast, you just smiled and complimented your parents for their thoughtful dinner and how it was a success – saying nothing about the tension between you and the friends you used to have. It was your final day home and there was not a single thing you wanted to do.

Most of the people who lived around this area went to either Karasuno or Aobajōsai and then was no point in meeting up with your current friends at Shiratorizawa just to have to go back home and then head back to school the next day. You cherished the meal with your parents, but both your parents had plans later in the afternoon. Your mom sensed your anxiousness and tasked you with small chores.

You finally were interested when she directed, “(F/N), Kageama-kun forgot his leftovers yesterday. Mind bringing them over?”

With a quick nod and changing into your outdoor shoes, you headed out the door and a few streets over to the Kageyama household.

The windows were shut and no signs of light were seen. Kageyama seemed like the type who would do anything to keep himself in top form and you wondered the possibility if he was out jogging or something.

Ringing the bell, you heard some movement inside until the setter finally opened his front-door in surprise.

“(L/N)-san?”

You lifted the container of food into his point of view, “You forgot to bring some food home last night.”

“Oh, thanks.” He took it from you and paused, “Would you like to come in?”

You nodded at his polite gesture and greeted with a familiar sight. This was not the first time you were in his home, but it surely seemed the same from the last time. Kageyama seemed like a clean, tidy sort and undoubtedly his parents were as well.

You noticed his family picture displayed proudly on the center coffee table, an innocent smile on Kageyama’s face as he was nestled between his two parents. It looked like a picture-perfect family, reflecting only questions as to what happened to them now.

“You know, I can’t believe that I have never met your parents.” You commented, looking at the picture and him following your gaze.

He hesitated before replying, “I’m not surprised.”

You looked at Kageyama fully, “What do you mean?”

“I don’t think they’ve ever watched me play.” He admitted, eyes on the floor at the sad realization.

“I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah.” He had a tense expression on, “But I like your family.”

“Thanks, they’re pretty embarrassing.”

“I..” Kageyama was hesitating in his words a lot, concerning this subject, you noticed. “There are no words to say how thankful I am toward your parents, for what they said and do.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You comforted, putting a hand on his shoulder. “They really are proud of you. And so am I, really. Believe me, great things are in store for you.”

That, in your mind, marked the notable shift in your relationship with Kageyama. Even after the weekend break for Family Day, you still were able to keep in contact with the setter. Previously, you were unsure where you stood with the King of the Court. But now with shared numbers and daily texting with one another, you were glad to have held your friendship with the blueberry.

Everyone was training for the Spring Playoffs, everyone’s distant goal of nationals constantly in mind. As the reining champions of your Prefecture, this was the time of year to prove once again why that was so. You were defending for three years straight, Ushijima standing tall as the prime representative of your school.

As the regular setter, you knew better than anyone the massive amount of pressure and training it took to get to this stage. And you made sure to prove it during the official matches.

You felt your heart physically break when Karasuno faced off against Aobajōsai. A school that even you had remembered as a fallen-powerhouse was now over-powering a longstanding rival of your own school.

Oikawa did not cry at the end of the game, but your connection to the older setter was enough to feel the pure anguish and annoyance that was raging in his heart. You wanted to just say something to the brunet, but when Ushijima rushed Oikawa after the match, you figured that it was probably not the best timing. (You also did not want to risk the wrath of the others).

You waited behind a pillar, listening to Oikawa and his unusually intimidating voice. Both alpha males turned and stalked in opposite directions and you fought the urge to call out to the setter. Rather than leaving it to another moment, one that would be much easier for him to ignore, you ran behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

He squeaked out in surprise, “Wha-”

“You deserve the world Oikawa and I know you’re meant for more than what this prefecture has to offer.” You interrupted before walking around to be face-to-face to him, “You’re going to stand on an international stage. And no one will be able to stop you there.”

He stayed quiet, eyes hard as they examined your own, as if he was trying to gauge how honest your words were.

“Besides, I wouldn’t marry a man who wasn’t prepared to take over the world.” You joked.

He cracked a small smile then, and slowly wrapped his arms around your waist. “Thank you.”

You smiled brightly, a hand on his chest while the other was on cheek, to full look at him. “I just want you to be as proud as I am about you.”

Oikawa looked away, turning to the side before returning his gaze back to you. “Why couldn’t you come to Aobajōsai?”

You were internally taken aback at the question and you were sure it showed on your face.

“I never asked before, I just accepted that my counterpart on the women’s team was on a completely different track.” Oikawa explained, voice a small whisper. “And it made me wonder how someone like you, who tried so hard against Shiratorizawa in junior high and still lost, did not even try to fight them.”

His voice was hard by the time the last few words came-out and this felt like an incredibly different Oikawa.

“You claim so hard that you care about us, about me.” Oikawa bit-out, “Then why didn’t you even try to fight for us?”

“I, everyone knew from the start-“

“You were the pillar of the team, the cog that made it run. You gave them strength and you knew that and you still left.”

You were sure this was something Oikawa had been waiting to get off his chest, a thought that had lingered for years apparently now, and were unsure what you could say to placate the remnants of your friendship with the setter.

“The fact of it all is that we cared to keep our family together even if meant not being an absolute winner.” Oikawa stated, a bruising hold on your waist now. You could not find it in yourself to push him away, “Which obviously, didn’t matter as much to you.”

“Oikawa, please.” You whispered out, unsure what you were asking for.

“Please what? To stop saying the truth or making you finally realize it?” His gaze was a predatory-kind, one you had spotted multiple times on the court and one that displayed an intimidating anger. “Are you really supposed to refer to your fiancé by his last-name?”

“Why are you being like this?” Your voice came out weakly and you barely recognized it.

“Why were we your last choice, (F/N)-chan?”

You pushed at his chest, but his hold did not budge and you were sure that your face demonstrated the absolute fear you had toward your friend of five years.

“That’s enough.” You heard the comforting voice of someone familiar along with multiple footsteps.

When you looked over Oikawa’s shoulder to see Semi’s confused one, it immediately hardened at seeing you so scared. He did not hesitate to push you two apart, standing as a shield in front of you between you and Oikawa as Kenjirō put a protective hold on your shoulder and Kawanishi scanned you up and down.

“What happened here?” You heard Iwaizumi’s voice as he rushed down the hall.

His best-friend, who knew Oikawa almost better than himself, saw the raging anger in the setter and for once and only once – it was aimed toward you alone.

The brunet took one last look at you, hard and piercing despite the addition of multiple people, before her turned away and walked back toward his team.

Iwaizumi did not leave immediately, looking at you with an apologetic disposition before following behind his friend.

“Are you alright?” Semi asked once both boys were out of eyesight.

You reassured them you were fine, but your voice could not even convince yourself.

“Oikawa might’ve been your friend, but he’s our rival now and he is trying to shake you before your final, don’t let him get to you.” Semi explained.

You nodded meekly, allowing Kenjirō to guide you back to the Shiratorizawa area. The others were quiet as you approached and you wanted nothing more than for the others to forget this ever happened.

“If only we could crush him tomorrow.” Tendou stated with narrowed eyes as he looked at your rosy nose and distraught eyes.

“Thanks, Salami.” You attempted a small smile.

“Ugh, I hate seeing you like this.” Tendou commented before putting a comforting hand on your shoulder and ruffling your hair.

Oikawa was right, to an extent. You and him had started on the same track, leaders of each respective Kitagawa Daiichi volleyball team and one of many victims to the Shiratorizawa streak. You had both felt the pure anguish of utter defeat, the fact that you had both tried your best and it still was not enough. And instead of following Oikawa’s track, you had chosen to attend the school that often broke your heart.

You wondered how long Oikawa had thought this but said nothing.

You were sure the bitter defeat was a large impetus to how he just treated you. But it still stung to know that was some pure honesty and truth in his words. You wanted the ground to swallow you up, to take away the memories of the last hour and stop yourself from seeing one of your close friends because one of your now many rivals.

Goshiki sat with you on the bus and made a point of keeping your mind off of what had just happened. It was obvious that everyone knew by now, from your captain’s reassuring stare and Yamagata putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, they were thankfully trying to keep their words guarded, at least. You smiled at the first-year, appreciative that he was trying so hard.

You saw from your peripheral that Kenjirō would often turn in his seat to check-in on you (it’s not like he was trying to hide it anyway). Yamagata offered you his spare juice box and Ushijima offered to pickup ice-cream for you on his usual night jog. It made you laugh at the offer, but accept it nonetheless since this was a rare occurrence.

Why do you care so much about people who want nothing to do with you?

Kageyama’s word rang in your mind and you thought, maybe, it was time to let Oikawa and the others go. Your heart ached at the thought, but you doubted that they shared the same sentiment about you. They weren’t staying up at night, losing sleep as they thought about you.

No, they hated you.

And when Iwaizumi texted you the next morning, you just said you were fine and it was probably for the best.

Besides, you had other things to worry about rather than people who cared nothing for you.

The next night was the finals between the men’s teams, Karasuno bringing Shiratorizawa to a full five sets, one that had you watching with baited breath. The crowds themselves seemed to have their own battle, cheering with their whole hearts to the point that you were sure you were rocking the stadium. You wished Kageyama good luck before the match, his face erupting in a rather obvious blush as his grey-headed senpai smiled and just patted him on the back. You did the same with Shirabu and Kawanishi as well.

Shirabu just smirked and Kawanishi patted your head.

Assholes.

But now you were seeing more emotion on each second-years’ faces than ever before. Yes, Shirabu and Kawanishi were salt squad and had no qualms using biting words or sarcasm. And yet the setter was much more expressive, displaying even fear and surprise as the game went on. You felt your heart surge when you saw Kawanishi get a serious face on, eyes narrowing as you saw the little hamster in his head run at full speed, guess-blocking working at it’s peak form now.

Kageyama was no exception, acting as one of the main conductors of the game and even having to sit out from his diminishing stamina. His jump serves were much better than during the Interhigh, you wondered if you should give yourself a pat on the back or kick your own ass for helping him against your own team. 

But there was no doubt in anyone’s mind, while the team of Karasuno was strong through their constant attacks and teamwork – it was Kageyama who was standing out the most during this game.

Hinata and that blond middle-blocker were interesting players, but your eyes always gravitated back to Kageyama. From his jump-serve that had even your powerhouse school on their toes to his resilient efforts to keep playing despite exhaustion, Kageyama kept your attention for the entire duration of the game.

You wondered if Kageyama’s parents were present.

You were not sure who to cheer for. Ushijima proved his unending stamina, earning point after point even when it was obvious that it was getting tiresome. It made your own shoulder hurt just looking at him. Tendou showcased the true power of the guess-blocker, eyes roaming the shorter setter with keen eyes.

All of this came to a crashing end.

21-19

The absolute winners were retiring.

Everyone was tasked with one-hundred serves, even the women’s team who had their own finals in a few more days.

Shirabu and Kawanishi were tenser than usual, you noticed during class and again during lunch. Shirabu’s not-girlfriend attempted to placate his mood with ice-cream, but she later iterated to you that in the end he just needed a long hug. You tried to do the same to Kawanishi, who simply took it in pure silence as he reciprocated the gesture.

Tendou was seemingly placated when you gifted him a home-cooked meal from a recent care-package from mom, but you knew the third-year well enough that his dark paradise was a hole in his heart that could never be replaced. Ushijima was hard to read, but nonetheless thanked you when you had given him a small cactus.

The men’s game put your nerves more at odds, despite how much you were trying to hard it with a strong face. Karasuno, a team that rose from nothing to become the team heading to nationals, they were able to beat the indomitable champions of Miyagi. It made your stomach churn at the possibility of losing to your long-term rivals at Aobajōsai.

The day after the game, everyone could observe your anxieties and had decided that maybe you needed some good luck help from home. You used to always have a ritual when you were particularly nervous and that involved a certain dish you mom made as a charm before big games and it also helped to have the words of your parents affirm your confidence. Your coach agreed to this idea, spying your shaky hands and unsure moves in practice.

Before home you stopped at the Kageyama’s, Tobio answering the door for you.

“Just wanted to say congratulations.” You greeted before taking something out of your bag. “I remember you used to love these milk cartons in junior high, so consider this a celebratory gift.”

“Thank you.” He had a small smile, one that you were sure he was not even aware of. “I’m glad you’re not mad at me.”

“Why would I be?”

“Shiratorizawa...”

“Is just a school.” You interrupted, thinking back to your ex-friends from Aobajōsai, “We all love volleyball and it’s time we all accepted there can only be one winner.”

He nodded at your explanation.

“Besides, you should come watch me win our spot to nationals.” You winked, “Me versus Seijō. It’ll be one hell of a game.”

“I know you’ll do great.” Hearing a compliment like that from Kageyama, it was strange. But you smiled anyway. “What are you doing in the area?”

“Ah. I’ve been getting nervous from seeing your game, honestly. So I was allowed to go home tonight for a good luck charm and to help calm myself.”

“Nervous? But you’re not playing us.”

“I know that!” You rolled your eyes in amusement. “But Shiratorizawa has always been considered as the winners. And no offense, nobody saw your win as possible. But you did it anyway. And the same thing could very well happen to us.”

Kageyama lightly poked on your forehead. “Boke, focus on the fight in front of you. You’ve always won against them, right? In practice matches and last tournament, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then use it to your benefit, but don’t get complacent.”

You paused and smiled, “Thank you.”

“Would you like to come in?”

“As tempting as that is, I have to get home to my parents and then head back to school.” You looked at his house once more, “Are your parents home?”

“No.” You frowned, but said nothing and waited for him to continue. “Neither of them have been, for a few days.”

“Have you heard from them?”

Kageyama turned away, “They don’t even know I’m going to nationals.”

You put a small hand in the crook of his elbow, “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“Sure.”

Since then, the match between Karasuno and Shiratorizawa was spurning you on, the thought of further rivals exciting you rather than scaring you now. You could not deny the fact that seeing both your parents and Kageyama had lightened your spirits. 

And, not for the first time, you pondered over your strange relationship with the young setter.

You were not as close to him as you were to Oikawa in the past. And yet Kageyama was the one who tried just a little bit harder to hold onto you than your brunet friend. You could not deny the slight attraction you felt toward the blueberry as well, his shy and blunt nature something you were akin to. If anything, you knew better than most how much Kageyama had changed in the last few years.

But you had bigger things to worry about now.

Like going to nationals.

You relished in the slight burn in the palm of your hand at your untouched jump-serves, success rate higher than usual. And when you stood on the court itself, the name Shiratorizawa echoing as it cheered through the stands, you felt pride course through your veins.

When both Shirabu and Kawanishi wished you luck before your match, you felt the need to knock their heads together like coconuts. They tried to do it in the chillest way possible, muttering it to you with their hands in their pockets. You watched Tendou roll his eyes from behind Shirabu. Instead, you tugged them both into a hug before either could be too cool to refuse it.

Ushijima patted you on the shoulder and reiterated the tips he had given you in the gym the day before – it seemed Waka was actually watching you intently and you thanked him for his observance and helpful advice. Goshiki offered you a thumbs-up and Tendou patted you on the head for the nth time, but you smiled at both. Semi and Reon stood to the side with genuine smiles, since neither were particularly close to you, but you appreciated their presence anyway.

You were placed in the front line, your team’s starting position opting for the most attack options in the front row. The women’s team for Aobajōsai was similar in that it was a complete team, but a team not as good as Oikawa’s. 

The synergy and trust between the setter and Iwaizumi was not something that could be replicated, only earned through more than a decade of true friendship. Rather, the women’s team lacked the power necessary from their ace and it was easy for a team as skilled as yours to pick up their serves defensively. Shiratorizawa relied on the power of their ace – and for a team with the best volleyball players in the Prefecture, it was a winning strategy.

Once you were rotated to serve, the entire stadium was separated from you mentally. It was just you and the game in front of you, not the loud shouts of Seijō or the pressured looks from your older captain. You let it lose, scoring with a single touch on your serve.

A no-touch service ace – a feat only you were capable of throughout the entire game.

You relished at the cheer of your name, the powerhouse clout proven when seemingly the entire stadium erupted in your name. It was a skill you had alone, not even your older senpai’s capable of scoring on a no-touch ace. And yet you did it multiple times. You spotted the clenched fists of your previous friends and their glares in your direction. But that did not deter you from your goal as you served with your entirety.

You glanced at the scoreboard, only one more point and you would be the reigning victor.

A deep breath.

In only three sets, it was over.

You were going to nationals.

Everything after that was hazy – you remember your ace literally picking you up. She was a good ten centimeters taller than you and built like a complete brickhouse, so that definitely helped. You remembered bowing to both your current and previous friends, but not a single one of them took your hand to shake at the lineup.

If you were still unsure of your relationship, it was quite clear that they hated you now.

The men’s team, sporting their similar tracksuits, clapped along in the stands as you thanked the audience. Your star-struck facial expression must have been obvious, since your fellow teammates kept poking at your cheeks and teasing your appearance.

“No touch service ace!” Your ace yelled aloud, grabbing you in another hug and lifting you like a trophy for the second time in the last ten minutes.

“You are an absolute monster, (F/N)!” Your captain commented as she laughed, arms in the air as she celebrated as well.

You felt the congrats and praise of everyone around you – your stoic coach even smiling in your direction (a small act of praise, but that was probably the best you were going to get). You felt the murmurs of the crowd around you, an immense audience that had just watched you singlehanded slam a ball away from an entire team.

It was liberating.

You along with a few others walked out from the courts, wanting to get some air away from the ruckus at the center of it all. Some wandered to the bathroom and others wanted to immediately run to their significant others.

You wandered out in the hall and the first non-teammate you ran into was a familiar brunet, running and hugging him from behind.

“(F/N), I will break your bones and make a chair out of them.”

“Shirabu, take me out to dinner first.” You joked, arms never leaving his middle even after he turned around towards you. “Come on, I just won. Grant me this?”

Shirabu rolled his eyes, but did eventually return your hug, ears suddenly red at the endearing gesture. “You serve well.”

“Thanks, maybe I’ll give you some private lessons.” You winked, earning you a push to your face immediately, putting a good foot between you and the other setter.

You laughed, the sound echoing through the hall and earning a small tsk, signaling that you two were not the only ones in the near-empty hall. You saw Shirabu tense in your peripheral, before he stepped in front of you between you and the other man with his one arm raised as if it was a protective wall.

He had his chin-up, arm on his waist as he regarded you with narrowed eyes and a dangerous expression.

“Oikawa.” You started.

“Congrats on your win.”

“Thanks.”

“Five points in the last set were yours alone, meaning twenty percent of the win was just from your serve.” Oikawa started explaining and you were unsure where he was going with this. “That’s without counting sets to the ace.”

“I suggest you leave.” Shirabu interrupted Oikawa’s external train of thought.

The brunet ignored him. “And who did you learn that jump serve from?”

You swallowed lightly, “From you.”

“And yet it was greatest weapon used today.” He narrowed his eyes, letting it travel your form as you stood there with a tight expression. “If only I had known then.”

“Let’s go, (F/N).” Shirabu stated, eyes never leaving Oikawa.

“Go ahead. I hope you think of me each and every time someone praises you on your jump-serve.”

“That’s enough.” Another voice cut in from the other end of the hallway, “She won today and not even you can take that away from her.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes at Kageyama’s appearance before turning to you, “Of course, this is the one you actually care about.”

“Tōru, stop.” You bit out, voice stern at this convening of setters.

“Oh, cut that out. I played a part in who you are today, you and I both know that.”

“Of course, I know that!” You exclaimed as you move to stand right in front of him, “The part you played in my life will always mean something to me, but you are not the same Oikawa I grew up with right now.”

Oikawa tsked before biting out, “Good luck at nationals.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Of course I do, dear fiancé.” Oikawa emphasized the last word, shrugging as he turned to leave the way he came.

“Whatever, it’s not like you can relate to nationals anyway!” You yelled as he walked away, watching him physically hesitate at your words, but never uttering another word toward you.

Kageyama’s eyes followed him until he was completely out of view, before he turned to you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, that was nothing.”

He looked as if he did not believe you, blue eyes hanging onto your appearance for a second longer before turning to the quiet Shirabu. The brunet was examining you also, eyes trained on your blank expression as if you were trying hard to convey that you were okay.

“I should freshen up or something before the ceremony.” You started, “I’ll see you in a bit. Thanks for coming Kageyama, in case I don’t see you later.”

You fought the urge to bite your lip as you ran in the direction of the bathrooms. This was supposed to be your day. The culmination of all your hard-work as you finally earn your rightful spot to nationals, it was supposed to be a day where you cheered and were happy at being at the frontlines for a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

And yet.

You opened the door to the women’s bathroom and came face to face with the vice-captain of Aobajōsai. Or as you once knew her in junior high, she held the same position while you were the captain.

“This isn’t over.” She immediately snarled.

“I know.”

“I hope you know that I hate you.”

“I know.” You stated in a low tone, pushing past her and into the bathroom. She huffed, silently observing you as you washed your face in the sink.

“Then do something!” She yelled, “I hate you so much I feel like I can just rip you limb from fucking limb! You were my best-friend for years and you still felt the need to leave!”

“I know. And I was wrong to diminish your feelings like that.”

“I… What?” She was still huffing, despite the confused expression on her face.

“You’re right. You guys were my closest friends since I first started school and I just… left.”

“Why are you saying this?”

“Because you’re right. I don’t regret going to Shiratorizawa, but it wasn’t fair of me to disregard all your feelings. I thought it was because of the rivalry between our schools, but it was because of me.” You sighed, “I’m sorry. I should’ve considered the fact that we were a family, but I’m not like Oikawa.”

She clenched her jaw but said nothing.

“I didn’t choose to stay with my friends, I chose for my future. And that was selfish of me, but I won’t change it.”

She sucked in a deep breath and stated, “I hate you.”

“I know.”

With a long-hard look, she huffed yet again. “Good luck at nationals, you bitch.”

You could not help the chuckle that escaped your lips, but she had already turned to leave out the door by the time you turned back to where she was. At least you had said your peace, there was nothing left for you to do if they could not accept even that.

The prefecture ceremony was a blur, names announced and cheers erupting at each team-member. You remember looking over to Aobajōsai on multiple occasions – it seemed they were all looking at you. No matter what was happening or who was being called, you could almost guarantee that a good amount of them were glaring in your direction.

It was liberating that you could brush it off, no longer as affected as you would have been even a week ago.

“Congratulations, (F/N).” Ushijima commended as he stood towering over you.

“Thank you.” You bowed, “Your advice really helped.”

He nodded, before turning to speak to other members of your team.

“Congrats again.” Shirabu greeted with a smile.

Kawanishi said nothing as he wrapped his arms around your middle for a quick second before backing away. “You earned it.”

You rolled your eyes, unsure if he was referring to the game-winning victory points or the ‘hug’ he had given you just now.

But you loved them all anyway.

They were your family now.

Your coach started practice the same as any other day, as if you had not just earned your way to nationals seemingly the day before. You wondered if you had just dreamed up the last few days, the real match taking place soon which is why you were training so damn hard. Your ace raised a brow as you were all instructed to do more jump-serves but did not grumble aloud unless face with another consequence.

When the entire team had finished their round, the coach gathered everyone into a circle to address them.

“Hopefully, the last few days have taught you the importance of the jump-serve.” Her eyes travelled the group until they landed completely on you. You felt multiple eyes of your teammates do the same. “You could completely shut-out your opponent with this attack, stopping them from ever connecting and letting them simply suffer defeat without ever touching the ball.”

You raised a brow at her morbid description but kept on listening.

“There is no doubt why (F/N) was named MVP of the match. But do not rest on your laurels, enjoy your break but don’t get lazy.”

The reaction was instantaneous.

“We have a break?!” Your captain exclaimed in obvious excitement.

“I’ll see you all on Monday.” Your coach stated vaguely, before turning and walking away.

“Hell yes!” Your captain yelled, “Let’s clean-up faster so we can get homecooked meals, yes?”

You felt the air of amusement and laughter in the gymnasium, happy to finally go home on this warm Friday evening, without the worries of practice over the weekend. Maybe your coach was not that bad after all.

And when you woke up mid-Saturday morning in the comfort of your home, guessing maybe around ten, you stretched and relished in the rare enjoyment of sleeping-in. Waking at nearly five in the morning every day, just to jog of all things, was taking it’s toll on you. You had to learn how to enjoy life more, you mused with a small smile.

Your mom knocked on your door before entering, “You have a visitor sweetie. I suggest you freshen-up. I’ll make breakfast for the two of you, but then I have to leave!”

“Ughisdfhis.” You murmured into your pillow as your rolled over.

“Or maybe I should just invite Kageyama-kun to your room so he can see how you really are.” She teased.

Immediately you were up, springing out of bed at the aforementioned name. You grabbed an outfit you packed the night before, rushing into your bathroom to brush you teeth and look presentable before the young setter.

By the time you headed downstairs, you were as clean and crisp as a bloomed daisy.

“Good morning, Kageyama-kun.” You greeted, “To what do I owe this visit?”

He greeted you in kind and explained, “I wanted to congratulate you like you did to me before..”

You walked over to him and suddenly a box of avocados were thrust into your view, quickly grabbing hold of it as Kageyama rushed in into your arms.

“I’m sorry! You gave me milk and I remember in a magazine you said you liked avocados! I thought…!”

You laughed at the sentiment, happy that he had thought about you but amused that he had resorted to the secondhand words of a magazine of all places. “Thank you, Kageyama-kun. I love it.”

“Are you sure? Because I can –”

“Stop worrying so much. It’s a present from you, of course I’ll love it.” You put the box on the floor and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem.” You were openly staring at him, eyes trained on his flushed appearance as he shyly attempted to look away from your strong stare. “Boke, stop staring at me.”

You chuckled, turning your gaze to the side before back to him. “There’s just something about you that I like, Kageyama-kun.”

It seemed as if he stopped breathing, expression similar to a fish out of water.

“Like, like-like?”

You chuckled, “What? Am I not allowed to?”

“No!” He seemed exasperated, hands raised as if to stop you. “No… I’m just surprised.”

“Why?”

“Oikawa…”

“Has only ever just been a friend.” You quickly finished the sentence for him.

“Or Shirabu…”

“Has a semi-girlfriend who would literally kill me.”

“Oh.”

You had a brow lifted, already expecting this surprised and unsure reaction from Kageyama. He was always socially stunted and did not hold it to him that he had yet to actually respond to your confession. Kageyama stood, wide-eyed and barely blinking, staring straight into your eyes as if looking for a hint of farce.

“I like you, too.” He stated plainly and if not for the seriousness of the situation, you would had chuckled at his solemn tone of voice.

“That’s reassuring to hear.” You responded, smile on your face widening.

“Are you sure you like me?”

You chuckled lightly, “For someone who claims to like me, it seems as if you’re pushing me away.”

“No!” Kageyama urged, “Just making sure, boke.”

You rolled your eyes, smile still prevalent at his words. This was the same Kageyama who was labeled as King of the Court – and for good reason too. He was relentless and exuded confidence in the one medium that barely anyone could match his all-around skill. There were times, as you watched him on the court, that you were utterly impressed with his abilities. And yet now..

It was clear that Kageyama was one thing right now: unsure. And you found the need to somehow reassure him, to let him now fully and transparently that he was the complete object of your affections.

So you stepped toward the now shy setter and took his hand in yours. Widely smiling, you were about to ask him something before he suddenly interrupted.

“Would you like…” He paused, looking to the side before turning back to you. “Would you like to date?”

“I would love to.”

He smiled back, tightening his hold on your hand. It was quite clear that the entirety of your own could fit in his palm – it was a nice feeling. Unlike the multiple times that the situation called for being your hand held, like with Oikawa being an ass or the occasional Shirabu (like when he was dragging you away due to embarrassment), this felt right.

“How about today? Are you free right now?” He asked, mustering more courage now knowing that you would most likely say yes.

“Sure, just let me get ready and we can get brunch.”

Your mom was not at all surprised when she returned, seeing you getting ready for your first-date ever. Kageyama was still waiting in the living room, hands clenched at the top of his knees while the television played ignored in the background. It was evident from the expression on his face that his mind was reeling over the past hour and over the implications of the next one. You were not the only one nervous, but this was Kageyama of all people, you understood him. If only there was a way for you to convey this to him.

Kageyama overheard your mom’s declaration of happiness at the situation and fought the urge to blush, was he that obvious? Your mother, uncaring of the rather uncomfortable setter sitting in her living room, walked out of the kitchen to shoot him a thumbs-up and ink. When Kageyama only blushed harder, your mom laughed and held out her hand, your father slapping an annoyed twenty bucks into her expecting palm.

“Don’t make me regret trusting you, boy.” Your father warned, a pointer finger in Kageyama’s direction as he was dragged away and out the house by your mother for ‘privacy.’

You shoved the door closed behind you as they left, back against the wood once both were gone. “Don’t mind them, they’re embarrassing.”

Kageyama smiled, then stood and hesitantly took your hand in his. “No, don’t worry about it. I love your family.”

You felt your own expression widen as it matched his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze in yours. “Thanks. Where to?”

Kageyama nodded, saying nothing as he guided you out the house and down the street. You had good idea about where you were headed, Kageyama was a man of routine and rarely strayed from his likes unless necessary, so simply entrusted your walk to him.

You peered up at his handsome visage, black mop of hair sitting naturally with a small rosiness dusting his cheeks. He was Kageyama obviously, but much different from the one you went to junior high with. This was a man weathered and you appreciated his journey from dictator to kind blueberry, happy to have seen his growth.

You lifted a free hand to push some of his longer bangs back behind his ear, the feeling unnatural to the poor setter, who immediately froze at the physical contact.

“You’re so cute, Kageyama-kun.” You complimented, before turning back to your route and lightly tugging on his hand to keep walking.

“Boke.” Breaking his stupor, Kageyama looked to the side and muttered in a low voice. “You’re the cute one.”

You fought the urge to laugh, but wanted to do something to reflect your feelings. You knew that a kiss would nearly cause the setter to explode and debated it as your stared at his lips and later at his cheek. Your train of thought must have been obvious, since Kageyama’s eyes widened unsurely.

Knowing you did not want to implode this poor boy’s heart, you took his hand in yours and placed a harmless kiss.

He was red the whole day. 

[qqueenofhades]

Re: the post you reblogged about Bush. I'm 21 and tbh feel like I can only vote for Bernie, can you explain if/why I shouldn't? Thanks and sorry if this is dumb or anything.

Oh boy. Okay, I’ll do my best here. Note that a) this will get long, and b) I’m old, Tired, and I‘m pretty sure my brain tried to kill me last night. Since by nature I am sure I will say something Controversial ™, if anyone reads this and feels a deep urge to inform me that I am Wrong, just… mark it down as me being Wrong and move on with your life. But also, really, you should read this and hopefully think about it. Because while I’m glad you asked this question, it feels like there’s a lot in your cohort who won’t, and that worries me. A lot.

First, not to sound utterly old-woman-in-a-rocking-chair ancient, people who came of age/are only old enough to have Obama be the first president that they really remember have no idea how good they had it. The world was falling the fuck apart in 2008 (not coincidentally, after 8 years of Bush). We came within a flicker of the permanent collapse of the global economy. The War on Terror was in full roar, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were at their height, we had Dick Cheney as the cartoon supervillain before we had any of Trump’s cohort, and this was before Chelsea Manning or Edward Snowden had exposed the extent of NSA/CIA intelligence-gathering/American excesses or there was any kind of public debate around the fact that we were all surveilled all the time. And the fact that a brown guy named Barack Hussein Obama was elected in this climate seems, and still seems tbh, kind of amazing. And Obama was certainly not a Perfect President ™. He had to scale back a lot of planned initiatives, he is notorious for expanding the drone strike/extrajudicial assassination program, he still subscribed to the overall principles of neoliberalism and American exceptionalism, etc etc. There is valid criticism to be made as to how the hopey-changey optimistic rhetoric stacked up against the hard realities of political office. And yet…. at this point, given what we’re seeing from the White House on a daily basis, the depth of the parallel universe/double standards is absurd.

Because here’s the thing. Obama, his entire family, and his entire administration had to be personally/ethically flawless the whole time (and they managed that – not one scandal or arrest in eight years, against the legions of Trumpistas now being convicted) because of the absolute frothing depths of Republican hatred, racial conspiracy theories, and obstruction against him. (Remember Merrick Garland and how Mitch McConnell got away with that, and now we have Gorsuch and Kavanaugh on the Supreme Court? Because I remember that). If Obama had pulled one-tenth of the shit, one-twentieth of the shit that the Trump administration does every day, he would be gone. It also meant that people who only remember Obama think he was typical for an American president, and he wasn’t. Since about… Jimmy Carter, and definitely since Ronald Reagan, the American people have gone for the Trump model a lot more than the Obama model. Whatever your opinion on his politics or character, Obama was a constitutional law professor, a community activist, a neighborhood organizer and brilliant Ivy League intellectual who used to randomly lie awake at night thinking about income inequality. Americans don’t value intellectualism in their politicians; they just don’t. They don’t like thinking that “the elites” are smarter than them. They like the folksy populist who seems fun to have a beer with, and Reagan/Bush Senior/Clinton/Bush Junior sold this persona as hard as they possibly could. As noted in said post, Bush Junior (or Shrub as the late, great Molly Ivins memorably dubbed him) was Trump Lite but from a long-established political family who could operate like an outwardly civilized human.

The point is: when you think Obama was relatively normal (which, again, he wasn’t, for any number of reasons) and not the outlier in a much larger pattern of catastrophic damage that has been accelerated since, again, the 1980s (oh Ronnie Raygun, how you lastingly fucked us!), you miss the overall context in which this, and which Trump, happened. Like most left-wingers, I don’t agree with Obama’s recent and baffling decision to insert himself into the 2020 race and warn the Democratic candidates against being too progressive or whatever he was on about. I think he was giving into the same fear that appears to be motivating the remaining chunk of Joe Biden’s support: that middle/working-class white America won’t go for anything too wild or that might sniff of Socialism, and that Uncle Joe, recalled fondly as said folksy populist and the internet’s favorite meme grandfather from his time as VP, could pick up the votes that went to Trump last time. And that by nature, no one else can.

The underlying belief is that these white voters just can’t support anything too “un-American,” and that by pushing too hard left, Democratic candidates risk handing Trump a second term. Again: I don’t agree and I think he was mistaken in saying it. But I also can’t say that Obama of all people doesn’t know exactly the strength of the political machine operating against the Democratic Party and the progressive agenda as a whole, because he ran headfirst into it for eight years. The fact that he managed to pass any of his legislative agenda, usually before the Tea Party became a thing in 2010, is because Democrats controlled the House and Senate for the first two years of his first term. He was not perfect, but it was clear that he really did care (just look up the pictures of him with kids). He installed smart, efficient, and scandal-free people to do jobs they were qualified for. He gave us Elena Kagan and Sonia Sotomayor to join RBG on the Supreme Court. All of this seems… like a dream.

That said: here we are in a place where Biden, Bernie Sanders, and Elizabeth Warren are the front-runners for the Democratic nomination (and apparently Pete Buttigieg is getting some airplay as a dark horse candidate, which… whatever). The appeal of Biden is discussed above, and he sure as hell is not my favored candidate (frankly, I wish he’d just quit). But Sanders and Warren are 85% - 95% similar in their policy platforms. The fact that Michael “50 Billion Dollar Fortune” Bloomberg started rattling his chains about running for president is because either a Sanders or Warren presidency terrifies the outrageously exploitative billionaire capitalist oligarchy that runs this country and has been allowed to proceed essentially however the fuck they like since… you guessed it, the 1980s, the era of voodoo economics, deregulation, and the free market above all. Warren just happens to be ten years younger than Sanders and female, and Sanders’ age is not insignificant. He’s 80 years old and just had a heart attack, and there’s still a year to go to the election. It’s also more than a little eye-rolling to describe him as the only progressive candidate in the race, when he’s an old white man (however much we like and approve of his policy positions). And here’s the thing, which I think is a big part of the reason why this polarized ideological purity internet leftist culture mistrusts Warren:

She may have changed her mind on things in the past.

Scary, right? I sound like I’m being facetious, but I’m not. An argument I had to read with my own two eyes on this godforsaken hellsite was that since Warren became a Democrat around the time Clinton signed Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, she sekritly hated gay people and might still be a corporate sellout, so on and etcetera. (And don’t even get me STARTED on the fact that DADT, coming a few years after the height of the AIDS crisis which was considered God’s Judgment of the Icky Gays, was the best Clinton could realistically hope to achieve, but this smacks of White Gay Syndrome anyway and that is a whole other kettle of fish.) Bernie has always demonstrably been a democratic socialist, and: good for him. I’m serious. But because there’s the chance that Warren might not have thought exactly as she does now at any point in her life, the hysterical and paranoid left-wing elements don’t trust that she might not still secretly do so. (Zomgz!) It’s the same element that’s feeding cancel culture and “wokeness.” Nobody can be allowed to have shifted or grown in their opinions or, like a functional, thoughtful, non-insane adult, changed their beliefs when presented with compelling evidence to the contrary. To the ideological hordes, any hint of uncertainty or past failure to completely toe the line is tantamount to heresy. Any evidence of any other belief except The Correct One means that this person is functionally as bad as Trump. And frankly, it’s only the Sanders supporters who, just as in 2016, are threatening to withhold their vote in the general election if their preferred candidate doesn’t win the primary, and indeed seem weirdly proud about it.

OK, boomer Bernie or Buster.

Here’s the thing, the thing, the thing: there is never going to be an American president free of the deeply toxic elements of American ideology. There just won’t be. This country has been built how it has for 250 years, and it’s not gonna change. You are never going to have, at least not in the current system, some dream candidate who gets up there and parrots the left-wing talking points and attacks American imperialism, exceptionalism, ravaging global capitalism, military and oil addiction, etc. They want to be elected as leader of a country that has deeply internalized and taken these things to heart for its entire existence, and most of them believe it to some degree themselves. So this groupthink white liberal mentality where the only acceptable candidate is this Perfect Non-Problematic robot who has only ever had one belief their entire lives and has never ever wavered in their devotion to doctrine has really gotten bad. The Democratic Party would be considered… maybe center/mild left in most other developed countries. It’s not even really left-wing by general standards, and Sanders and Warren are the only two candidates for the nomination who are even willing to go there and explicitly put out policy proposals that challenge the systematic structure of power, oppression, and exploitation of the late-stage capitalist 21st century. Warren has the billionaires fussed, and instead of backing down, she’s doubling down. That’s part of why they’re so scared of her. (And also misogyny, because the world is depressing like that.) She is going head-on after picking a fight with some of the worst people on the planet, who are actively killing the rest of us, and I don’t know about you, but I like that.

Of course: none of this will mean squat if she (or the eventual Democratic winner, who I will vote for regardless of who it is, but as you can probably tell, she’s my ride or die) don’t a) win the White House and then do as they promised on the campaign trail, and b) don’t have a Democratic House and Senate willing to have a backbone and pass the laws. Even Nancy Pelosi, much as she’s otherwise a badass, held off on opening a formal impeachment inquiry into Trump for months out of fear it would benefit him, until the Ukraine thing fell into everyone’s laps. The Democrats are really horrible at sticking together and voting the party line the way Republicans do consistently, because Democrats are big-tent people who like to think of themselves as accepting and tolerant of other views and unwilling to force their members’ hands. The Republicans have no such qualms (and indeed, judging by their enabling of Trump, have no qualms at all). 

The modern American Republican party has become a vehicle for no-holds-barred power for rich white men at the expense of absolutely everything and everyone else, and if your rationale is that you can’t vote for the person opposing Donald Goddamn Trump is that you’re just not vibing with them on the language of that one policy proposal… well, I’m glad that you, White Middle Class Liberal, feel relatively safe that the consequences of that decision won’t affect you personally. Even if we’re due to be out of the Paris Climate Accords one day after the 2020 election, and the issue of climate change now has the most visibility it’s ever had after years of big-business, Republican-led efforts to deny and discredit the science, hey, Secret Corporate Shill, am I right? Can’t trust ‘er. Let’s go have a craft beer.

As has been said before: vote as far left as you want in the primary. Vote your ideology, vote whatever candidate you want, because the only way to make actual, real-world change is to do that. The huge, embedded, all-consuming and horrible system in which we operate is not just going to suddenly be run by fairy dust and happy thoughts overnight. Select candidates that reflect your values exactly, be as picky and ideologically militant as you want. That’s the time to do that! Then when it comes to the general election:

America is a two-party system. It sucks, but that’s the case. Third-party votes, or refraining from voting because “it doesn’t matter” are functionally useless at best and actively harmful at worst.

Either the Democratic candidate or Donald Trump will win the 2020 election.

There is absolutely no length that the Republican/GOP machine, and its malevolent allies elsewhere, will not go to in order to secure a Trump victory. None.

Any talk whatsoever about “progressive values” or any kind of liberal activism, coupled with a course of action that increases the possibility of a Trump victory, is hypocritical at best and actively malicious at worst.

This is why I found the Democratic response to Obama’s “don’t go too wild” comments interesting. Bernie doubled down on the fact that his plans have widespread public support, and he’s right. (Frankly, the fact that Sanders and Warren are polling at the top, and the fact that they’re politicians and would not be crafting these campaign messages if they didn’t know that they were being positively received, says plenty on its own). Warren cleverly highlighted and praised Obama’s accomplishments in office (i.e. the Affordable Care Act) and didn’t say squat about whether she agreed or disagreed with him, then went right back to campaigning about why billionaires suck. And some guy named Julian Castro basically blew Obama off and claimed that “any Democrat” could beat Trump in 2020, just by nature of existing and being non-insane.

This is very dangerous! Do not be Julian Castro!

As I said in my tags on the Bush post: everyone assumed that sensible people would vote for Kerry in 2004. Guess what happened? Yeah, he got Swift Boated. The race between Obama and McCain in 2008, even after those said nightmare years of Bush, was very close until the global crash broke it open in Obama’s favor, and Sarah Palin was an actual disqualifier for a politician being brazenly incompetent and unprepared. (Then again, she was a woman from a remote backwater state, not a billionaire businessman.) In 2012, we thought Corporate MormonBot Mitt Fuggin’ Romney was somehow the worst and most dangerous candidate the Republicans could offer. In 2016, up until Election Day itself, everyone assumed that HRC was a badly flawed candidate but would win anyway. And… we saw how that worked out. Complacency is literally deadly.

I was born when Reagan was still president. I’m just old enough to remember the efforts to impeach Clinton over forcing an intern to give him a BJ in the Oval Office (This led by the same Republicans making Donald Trump into a darling of the evangelical Christian right wing.) I’m definitely old enough to remember 9/11 and how America lost its mind after that, and I remember the Bush years. And, obviously, the contrast with Obama, the swing back toward Trump, and everything that has happened since. We can’t afford to do this again. We’re hanging by a thread as it is, and not just America, but the entire planet.

So yes. By all means, vote for Sanders in the primary. Then when November 3, 2020 rolls around, if you care about literally any of this at all, hold your nose if necessary and vote straight-ticket Democrat, from the president, to the House and Senate, to the state and local offices. I cannot put it more strongly than that.

[ey8508]

Rumors and Secrets: Victor | 李泽言

Note:

R&S for this card (CG above)

Chapter SPOILERS up to Season 2: Chapter 18-21 (read at your own risk)

Contains 5 chapters

Translation isn’t 100% accurate (or include grammar errors)

Every part for LZ’s dialogue would be in “this setting”

Do not repost to any other site (reblog is fine)

Chapter 1 Page 1 It's no exaggeration to say that the name "Li Zeyan" has run through my entire high school era.  This "evil fate" probably starts with a 31-point Chinese test paper. I'm Gao Qishan, only 17 years old at that time, but there are so many things that usually interest me. Games, animations, and football are nothing compared than reading a book in a room. But hey, it's a pity that my dad doesn't think so. "I only scored 31 points in the Chinese test, and I'm still here with a hippie smile!" In the study, the old man blew his beard, looking disappointed, "How can my son be so useless!" Page 2 "Your son is very capable. I was the MVP of the basketball game last night!" "Your PPP is useless! You are in the second year of high school, not the second grade of elementary school! You have a 31-point score and you have a face to play basketball? You don't have any shame or a competitive spirit. Do you not want to go to college anymore?!"  . I was about to reply impatiently, the old man took out a magazine from somewhere, poked his hand at the cover and yelled at me: "Look at the person. He founded the company at the age of 20. In just two years, he has been on the "Business Rising Stars" cover interview! Look at yourself again, someone who is almost 17 years old and does not have the realization of it, do you want to be in the worst generation in the future, ah?!" Page 3 I'm not happy to hear this: "What's so great about starting a company? Your son, I will start a company in minutes!” "I'm almost out of school, and I started my own company? Oh, I'm going to be better!" The old man raised his head, and the thick magazine almost hit my handsome face.  "Learn from others, and don't give me daydreaming here!" Page 4 I grabbed this "Business Rising Stars" with enthusiasm. A decent young man in a suit was looking ahead through the photo. On the cover was a striking headline: "Li Zeyan, an astounding leader in Lianyu City.” "This title is exaggerated!" Even if I was taught by Lao Gao, I was inexplicably better compared with this Li Zeyan, and I just threw the magazine under the sofa. Who wants to learn from him? Just looking at it is a tarnish to my ability! Page 5 But somehow, at night I tossed and turned and I couldn't fall asleep! The more I closed my eyes, the more uncomfortable I was, what did Li Zeyan do. When I turned over for the 100th time, I suddenly sat up. It was a task by old Gao to read the magazine anyway, so I decided to retrieve the magazine and just take a look. After sneaking into the study room, it took me a long time to find the magazine in the innermost part of the sofa. Page 6 "... Although Li Zeyan is only 22 years old, he is already the president of Huarui, an emerging medium-sized company in Lianyu City.  Starting from scratch, he started from a small office to now has hundreds of people. Every step he walks is particularly solid and decisive. Li Zeyan’s way of business is beyond ordinary. He is like a lion, born with a King's aura." All these compliments just for this, isn't it just descriptions of someone starting their own company? I just haven't paid much attention to reading.  Just relying on my ingenuity, and getting a high score on the tests, it is absolutely nothing when it comes to starting a company. Hmph, just you wait. Chapter 2 Page 1 The university in City A is not only one of the top five in the province, but also the top five in the country. It is a university that I, Gao Qishan was admitted to dignifiedly! How about that, I said I'm absolutely fine. In a blink of an eye, the freshman year has passed. In the past two years, I have also paid a little attention to Huarui. The development has been okay, it has not closed down, and the scale has doubled.  It's just normal development. Is it worth the old Gao's praise from time to time?  Every time he flipped through a financial magazine and sighed, "You are so young, so good", it sounds a bit too much. Page 2 As the saying goes, "Seeing is believing", I think this sentence is right.  Taking advantage of the summer vacation, I decided to apply for Huarui's summer internship to see in person how the company is, just not to waste my talents and financial knowledge. Soon I entered the building, but how can the interviewer in the middle feel a bit familiar, the more I look at it, the more I recognize... Wait, isn't it exactly Li Zeyan?! What's happening, is Huarui going bankrupt? Why is the president personally do the interviewing for the summer interns? Page 3 "Manager Chen has something to do, I happen to be free." Probably my shock expression was too obvious. Li Zeyan flipped through the information at hand and looked up at me blankly.  "Gao Qishan? First, briefly introduce yourself." I don't know what's going on. I was so startled by Li Zeyan that I couldn't help but straighten up.  After swallowing my throat, I mobilized all my attention, took a deep breath and said, "Hello, my name is Gao Qishan, and I am a freshman in the Department of Economics and Management of the University of City A..." Page 4 After introducing himself, Li Zeyan asked a few more related professional questions. This kind of small question is nothing to me. It seems that Huarui’s interview is nothing more than that. He occasionally knocked his fingers on the table subconsciously, and asked with a deep gaze: "Why do you want to come to Huarui for an internship?" The continuous response made me more and more relaxed. I changed my sitting position and quickly thought about how to deal with this new question. Judging from previous information, Li Zeyan is a person who likes to win at everything. He should appreciate the kind of answers that seem extraordinarily confident, right? Page 5 After carefully thinking about this, I straightened my back and raised my chin and said: Although Huarui is quite a new company, it has grown at an amazing speed, and the achievements it has made so far are obvious to all in the industry.  And although I am a freshman student, I think I have a very strong learning ability. In this regard, I have a lot of similarities with Huarui. Therefore, I think Huarui is very suitable for me and will definitely make me grow faster. Of course, I can definitely give back the same freshness and vitality for Huarui. With a confident smile, I finished my speech and waited quietly for Li Zeyan's nod. But to my surprise, a few seconds later I was greeted by a frown from Li Zeyan. Page 6 "It seems that you have confidence in yourself. To be a man and to do things really requires self-confidence, but everything must be controlled." Li Zeyan stared at me and said in a hurry, "Only by maintaining reflection and introspection can we truly make progress." I understood his words, and my face flushed. A few days later, I really received a notice from HR (Human Resources) and I didn't get hired. Page 7 Although I had a foreseeable result from Li Zeyan's remarks, when I really received a reply and recalled the interview scene, I was still very angry. After my sophomore year, I went back to the final exams and tried to fight for the first place. I'll make sure that my ambitions are not just mere words. I have written down the "new hatred and old hatred" on my notes. I will definitely use the shortest time to create my own territory, leaving Huarui far behind! Chapter 3 Page 1 Today is the first day of my "Yuanshan Group" moving to a new building.  Morning light came in from the spacious floor-to-ceiling windows, and I stood by the desk, proudly holding on to the brand-new office chair. In the next semester of the junior year, I used the dividends I participated in the project as the start-up capital, and I didn't need a penny higher than the old one, so my "distant mountain" just rose from the ground.  Isn’t it just 20-year-old to start a company from scratch? What's the difficulty?  When I founded Yuanshan, I was exactly 21, and the rounding is almost the same as Li Zeyan.  Because of this, my old man, Lao Gao stopped training me long ago, and I guess he must have praised me secretly. Page 2 In just a few years, Yuanshan has grown from a small company of eight people to a scale that now occupies a seven-story high-end office building, and the suffix has also changed from "company" to the word "group".  To be honest, my founder is very satisfied with Yuanshan's growth.  Although there is still a certain distance from Huarui, after all, they are also developing along the way, but it doesn't matter, I am still young, and sooner or later I can catch up. It didn't take long before the opportunity to "catch up" came. Page 3 I was originally interested in the land to the north of Lianyu City. When I heard that Huarui was also planning to bid on that land, I became more interested.  The Lianyu Municipal Government intends to develop the somewhat hindered northern side. At present, construction has begun to build a crossing bridge and a shopping mall, and this piece of land is nearby. "It is more than enough to build a six-star resort with 18,000 square meters and the supporting facilities can be added. Maybe Huarui made the same idea." I have paid attention to the recent developments of Huarui and have invested in four resort hotels one after another. The senior management of the company also agreed that the land is worthwhile, and if it can be won within the highest valuation of 89 million yuan, it should make a profit without losing it. Page 4 A month later, I came to the auction site with confidence.  Sitting in front of me at ten o'clock is Li Zeyan, the president of Huarui in a suit and leather shoes. After a few years of absence, I can finally compete with him. On the stage, the auctioneer gave an impassioned introduction to the land, and then said in a melodious tone: "The starting price is 35 million, and the auction will begin now!" As soon as the voice fell, several companies immediately raised their signs. But my opponent is Huarui. It is still early, so I have to wait for Huarui to make a move. Page 5 When the bidding became increasingly fierce, Li Zeyan finally raised his placard for the first time: "60 million." The opponent finally appeared, and I immediately raised the number plate: "61 million." As if he was just encountering an ordinary bidder, Li Zeyan never answered with words, but raised his placard again: "70 million." I continued to chase: "71 million!" Side to the front, Li Zeyan seemed to raise his eyebrows slightly. After a few seconds, he raised the number plate again, and said: "80 million." Page 6 "81 million!" As if finally realizing my bite, Li Zeyan glanced at me slightly sideways, then he raised the number plate, the noise was low and clear: "90 million." This figure has already exceeded the company's highest valuation, and the assistant quietly tugged on my sleeve, beckoning me to forget it. But if I really give up on this, I still feel no sigh of relief in my heart. The auctioneer has already shouted in front: "90 million twice." Page 7 "100 million!" My voice came out, at the last moment. Of course, Li Zeyan finally gave me a straight look. I watched his hand nervously, and saw that the number plate was never raised again, and the auctioneer had already shouted excitedly: "One hundred million! Yuanshan Group has come out of one hundred million! One hundred million once! Three hundred million!, make a deal!" Page 8 Finally got it!  Such a valuable piece of land I believe it will be a great help to Yuanshan, and it’s just around the corner to get rid of Huarui. I didn't even consider the cost of 100 million yuan. I just felt that my body was comfortable and exuberant, and the bright prospects were beckoning me. When Li Zeyan passed by me, my triumphant pride couldn't stop. "Thanks to Mr. Li for the bidding this time." Page 9 Li Zeyan put his suit jacket on one hand, and passed by me. I thought he would argue with me back, but Li Zeyan just raised his eyebrows uninterested, and then strode away without looking back. Okay, as the winner of the auction, I allow the loser to occasionally gaffe. Just when I was gearing up to do a big job, the Finance Department urgently sent a bad report. Due to my "passionate bidding", Yuanshan's capital chain suddenly had a problem. Chapter 4 Page 1 I urgently convened a high-level meeting, and after several discussions, the best solution at present turned out to be to invest in Huarui! Personally speaking, I have a hundred reluctances in my heart.  Not long before the auction, I took the initiative to bow to Hua Rui. Didn't that slap me in the face severely. However, the cruel reality lies in front of us. Yuanshan is not only my own person, but also the collective effort of hundreds of employees.  To let Yuanshan survive this crisis steadily, I can only and must "take the initiative to surrender" to Huarui. Forget it, "vote" just "vote"!  Although it was a mistake in my decision-making this time, Yuanshan's development prospects are so good that Li Zeyan should never not invest as long as his eyes are correct. Page 2 However, the negotiation process is still more difficult than I expected. It is not that Huarui has no intention to invest, but almost all the conditions listed are on the lowest line of the distant mountains. "If I remember correctly, the creditworthiness of Huarui's previous investment in the gaze lock company is not very high." I fought hard against the low pressure, and Yuanshan's creditworthiness has always been in the top four in the industry. "...with Yuanshan's creditworthiness Huarui's right to speak will definitely be improved. I think Mr. Li can think about it again." Page 3 "Do you think you are still eligible to negotiate terms with me?" Li Zeyan straightened his mouth, exuding deterrence, "...Huarui Investment in Yuanshan is not for charity, and has no obligation to pay for your suicidal behavior." He raised his hand and glanced at his watch, with a hint of impatience on his face: "Think carefully about it yourself." The long negotiation was finally over. Although Yuanshan and Huarui finally reached a cooperation intention, the whole process failed me. I thought I was about to be on the same line of competition with Li Zeyan, but I was beaten back to the former "interviewer" again. Page 4 By the area downstairs in Huarui, I was smoking a stuffy cigarette, and suddenly there was a faint sound of footsteps behind me. It turned out to be Li Zeyan. Although he was still expressionless, the murderous aura and arrogance from the negotiations seemed to have diminished. Li Zeyan steadily walked to my side: "Gao Qishan, I remember you once came to interview for a summer internship." I didn't expect Li Zeyan to take the initiative to speak. I was surprised. He said: "Several years have passed, and it seems that self-confidence is increasing." If it wasn't for my lose, I stood up slightly: “Although I made a mistake this time, as far as the strength of Yuanshan is concerned, I have the capital to be confident." Page 5 "Yuanshan's strength is indeed pretty good, but don't rush to eat the cakes that you can't eat for the time being. Being high is far from a long-term plan for enterprise development." Li Zeyan said lightly, and took out a card from his pocket and handed it to me, "There will be a practical business forum in Lianyu City next week. You can come and listen when you have time." A practical business forum? What do you mean, is he mocking me for being too pragmatic? The inexplicable enthusiasm and self-esteem suddenly appeared, and I blurted out: "Mr. Li, even if Yuanshan is really not as good as Huarui now, there is no need to humiliate people like this, right?" Page 6 Li Zeyan frowned: "What are you talking about?" He paused, his eyes sinking, "I thought you would be an opponent you could look forward to, but I didn't expect the vision to be just like that." Without additional explanation, Li Zeyan turned and walked away after speaking. I was stunned, looking at Li Zeyan's steadily leaving behind, I couldn't help but relive the conversation just now in my mind. Could it be that Li Zeyan meant that because he regarded me as a potential opponent and hoped that this opponent could become stronger and more competitive, did he propose to let me participate in the business forum? Page 7 That's right, it seems that only such an explanation can make sense! Thinking of this, I couldn't help blowing a whistle. After all, it was an "imaginary enemy" and pursuit of goals since the age of 17, which can be affirmed and recognized by Li Zeyan. It is simply an easter egg that comes with the negotiation, and it is worthy of the old man to praise me ten times. I was being silly and happy. Suddenly my fingers hurt, I have forgotten about my cigarette that was about to burn my fingers! Chapter 5 Page 1 With Huarui's capital injection, Yuanshan passed the crisis steadily. After more than half a year, the foundation of the resort has gradually taken shape. Just when everything seemed to be going in a good direction, early this morning, the news of "the crash of the president of Huarui" directly bombed all major platforms.  Reminiscent of the so-called "homicide list" that was suddenly leaked on the internet a few days ago, I inexplicably feel that these two things may have some connection. Who on earth wants Huarui to sink in the water? Wait a minute, which company announced the list. Could it be that their person in charge is secretly playing tricks? Page 2 Before I could find anything out of my investigation, within a few days, the news of "Which company claims that Huarui has maliciously acquired a large number of pharmaceutical companies" once again detonated all platforms! "Deliberately monopolizing the pharmaceutical market will inevitably cause the price of medicines to rise, which is obvious." "Just for profit, this behavior is very bad!" "Even Huarui's own workers and can't stand it, which shows how terrible Li Zeyan's actions are!" Page 3 Opinions on the Internet are divergent, and public grievances are boiling, and they all accuse Huarui. But I don’t believe it. Although I have only met Li Zeyan several times in person, for so many years, because I have always regarded him as an opponent and target, I have studied Huarui and Li Zeyan’s behavior more than anyone else. The nonsense on the Internet, I don't believe a word! I browsed the web quickly, staring at the almost identical title and searched viciously. Page 4 "Huarui’s reputation plummeted, Li Zeyan fell into a situation where everyone was clamoring and angry, and the heads of the company was clearly cut off from him." In the video, the host's voice kept ringing into my ears. All the signs made me firmer in my previous thoughts: It must be looking at which company is crossing the river to demolish the bridge! I immediately called the assistant to the inside line: "How much do you hire me for a large number of naval forces? How many can you hire? How many! That's right, I have to spare no effort to clarify for Huarui, and by the way, I will focus on the company. Going right now!" I know that this "bad strategy" and only a small help but I haven't beaten Li Zeyan righteously, how could Huarui have an accident in such a situation! What I want is not the taste of winning without a fight. Page 5 Probably because of anger, I couldn't help but send a message to Li Zeyan: The outside world said that Huarui's energy is exhausted. You will not be reduced to the point where you still need to borrow money from me, right?" This message was sent, and I did not expect Li Zeyan to reply to me. However, when it was almost midnight, I suddenly received an email from Huarui. ‘Huarui has always been a responsible company, and will do what it says without fear of any storms. Now everything is running normally, you don't need to worry about it.’ Signer: Li Zeyan. Page 6 Looking at this email, I couldn't help but smile in the middle of the night. Also, Huarui has always been fighting steadily, and Li Zeyan has never fought unprepared battles. Maybe he is playing a big move. Otherwise, how can I say that he is my respectable and close opponent! As for my secret match with Li Zeyan. Give me another three or four years to see who wins and who loses.

[psychdelia]

billy woke up sweaty and sore with his head pounding. steve threw a graduation party for the seniors last night and, naturally, the popular juniors crashed it.

billy was the most excited out of the bunch, more than ready to see casa de harrington and what it had to offer. he expected the pool, expensive alcohol, smell of weed wafting from the basement.

what he didn’t expect was getting his own personal tour of steve’s room. not that he remembers much considering how this tour came about.

the details are a little iffy, some black spots here and there. billy remembers smoking with harrington and some other peers on the basement couch, beer in one hand, shitty indiana joint in the other. he waited until everyone left to pull out a bag of weed from california he’d been stashing, figured this was the best way to offer an apology since he never actually did apologize for their fight.

“now that that’s over with,” billy motioned towards the basement door once it closed. “wanna try the good shit?” he grinned as he presented the bag.

“holy shit. is it from cali?” steve asked, reaching for the bag. billy quickly pulled it out of his reach.

“of course it’s from cali, dumbass. you really think i’m gonna call your trash bud good?” he rolled his eyes. “but,” he licked his lips. “we’re square after this. no more hating me and i’ll leave you the hell alone. deal or no deal, amigo?”

steve seemed to contemplate, biting his bottom lip and eyeing between billy and the bag.

“you won’t be a dick to me or the shitheads?” steve raised an eyebrow.

“well, i can’t guarantee that.” billy chuckled. “but i won’t target any of you. plus, i already apologized to sinclair and left those brats alone. after max drugged me with whatever the fuck and nearly castrated me, of course. but i still did.” he shrugged.

billy would never admit he told max he wanted to apologize to lucas. would never admit the guilt was eating away at him until he apologized. to his surprise, lucas accepted the apology as long as billy carts him and max around to their stupid little dates. it’s pretty cute, seeing how in love he is with his dork sister. he’ll never admit that either.

“fuck, fine. deal. now hand it over, hargrove. always such a hoarder.” he rolled his eyes, snatching the bag away.

“it’s not my fault the rest of the team doesn’t know how to play ball, asshole.” billy huffed, watching steve grind and roll the flower up. “first hit’s yours.”

passing the joint around silently progressed to smoking with small talk, to them actually having a good discussion just talking about life. they were pretty gone as they talked about their parents. steve talked about traveling along the east coast with family, billy talked about california and mentioned his mom a couple times.

things took a turn when billy thoughtlessly mentioned how he used to shotgun the smoke with some friends back home and steve perked up.

“let’s do it.” steve suggested.

“what?”

“shotgun the smoke. i’ve never done it. cmon,” he sat up, patting billy’s knee. “we’ll do it to each other. you go first.” he leaned in very close to billy, leaving just enough distance between their faces. the party upstairs seemed to have quieted down.

they’d gone back and forth a few times, getting closer each time. billy was about to exhale when he caught steve’s bloodshot eyes drift down from his face and linger on his lips for longer than heterosexually normal. steve looked back up and his cheeks turned pink when he realized he’d been caught, but he didn’t seem to care.

steve really didn’t seem to care when he leaned forward and crashed his lips onto billy’s, forcing him to exhale the smoke into the other’s mouth. billy let out a soft moan when steve licked into his mouth. he hadn’t realized he ended up on steve’s lap until big hands were grabbing his ass and thighs, squeezing handfuls.

they didn’t realize the party was over and the house was empty until steve was dragging billy up the basement stairs. he groaned when billy started to kiss down his neck, blindly reaching behind him to turn the music off. by the time they got to steve’s room, they were half naked, clothes discarded along the stairs.

billy remembers getting on all fours on steve’s bed but immediately got flipped onto his back because i wanna see you, baby. he remembers wrapping his thighs around steve’s face when he licked him open, moaning when steve opened him up with deft fingers and harsh strokes to his prostate. he remembers getting fucked in the same position with steve kissing and licking and sucking and biting down his throat and chest. he remembers getting on top and pinning steve down, marking his neck up the same way he did billy.

he remembers waking up around 4am to steve spooning him. he was hard again and rutting against billy, letting out soft little moans before they fucked again in that same position, steve holding billy’s legs up and open, fingers digging into his thigh, his free hand messily jerking billy off.

now, it’s 11am and all the memories of last night came flooding back to him. his eyes are wide as he turns in steve’s arms, wincing at the soreness and stickiness in his thighs. his eyes go soft when he finds steve sleeping peacefully. his arms are still wrapped tight around billy and there are hickeys littering his neck and collarbones but he looks fucking angelic.

“steve.” billy shakes him a little. “steve.” he repeats, louder.

steve just groans and pulls billy close, tucking the blonde’s head beneath his chin and kissing his head.

“five more minutes, baby.” he murmurs tiredly into billy’s hair.

“steve.” billy sighs into his neck, feels the way steve shudders.

“what?” steve huffs. “wanna go again?” he grinds against billy, earning a moan out of both of them when their dicks rub.

“no. yeah. fuck, no. not now. wake the fuck up harrington.” billy groans, failing to escape his embrace. “fucking clinger.” he huffs.

“you literally clung to me like a koala when i was fucking you but i’m the clinger? asshole.” steve chuckled.

“have you seen your dick?” billy pinched his side. “it’s the size of my fuckin’ face, harrington. there was a lot going on.”

“oh shut the fuck up. you hungry?” steve murmured, pressing sleepy kisses to billy’s neck.

“you made me ride you for, like, an hour. i’m starving.”

“it was like 10 minutes billy. you’re so dramatic.” steve rolled his eyes as he stood up, dragging billy up with him.

“and you’re insatiable.” billy winced as the cold air hit him, cooling him off after being plastered to steve all night.

“come here.” steve murmured, grabbing billy’s hand and dragging him to the bathroom.

billy followed blindly, ignoring the heat in his cheeks at the way steve held his hand. his blush only deepened when steve grabbed a baby wipe and began to clean billy up, starting at the cum on his belly and moving down. he gave billy an odd look in which billy returned a frown, not understanding until steve gently wiped at his crack and hole, jumping at the sudden cold sensation.

he immediately told himself he wouldn’t catch feelings for this asshole, no matter how sweet or cute or hot or amazing in bed he was. but that thought was thrown out the second they got to the kitchen and billy was bent over the counter, steve draped over his body as he fucked him quick and deep, kissing down his neck and jerking him off.

billy especially didn’t fall in love when steve made him both blueberry and chocolate chip pancakes and fresh expensive italian coffee. he cringed at the way steve drank it black as he loaded it with cream and sugar, flipping a grimacing steve off as he took a sip.

“you want some more coffee with your cream and sugar? or some more pancakes with your syrup?” steve mocked with a fond smile as billy drowned his pancakes and sat half naked, only in a pair of steve’s shorts.

“fuck off.” billy muttered.

“mm, yeah, no. don’t think i will. you can’t get rid of me now, pretty boy. you’re stuck with me.” steve smirked. he leaned over and brushed stray blonde curls behind billy’s ear, watching the blush rise high on his cheeks.

[bailey-reaper]

How about a drabble of Barok serving as Klint's judicial assistant in his younger years, before he officially studies law to become a prosecutor? I like the idea of him becoming interested in and familiar with law from his brother. "Judicial Assistant van Zieks" has a certain ring to it.

Work Experience

Notes:

Oh that's a lovely idea, anon! I'd imagine that by the time he's promoted to 'Director of Prosecutions', Klint would most likely have been a very senior barrister known as a Q.C. ('Queen's Counsel'); they're also known colloquially as 'silks' because they 'take silk' (i.e. acquire a robe made of silk) upon attaining this lofty rank.

When a barrister becomes a silk/QC, they often only handle the most difficult (and expensive) work, but they will usually have a junior barrister assisting them (i.e. doing all the work, though I doubt Klint would conduct himself like that).

I can very much imagine Klint taking Barok as his junior and allowing himself to be 'led' by the latter. The term 'leading' basically means the barrister in charge of conducting the case where there's more than one involved.

Content Warnings: legal gubbins (that's the technical term btw... it's not); I take liberties with all things van Zieks, as usual...

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Klint's office was the very best place to study as far as Barok was concerned - the vast table in the centre of the room allowed him to spread his books out while the peaceful calm was greatly conducive to reflective reading. It was as good as, if not superior to, going to the university library. "Barok!" Klint said as he entered his room and shrugged out of his formal scarlet jacket, tossing it haphazardly on a coat rack, "What a pleasant surprise-- drink?" "Good afternoon brother," he looked up and nodded in greeting, "Mm, yes please. How was court?" "Fairly standard stuff," Klint sighed as he took two glasses and poured a measure of whiskey into each. Truth be told it was yet more of the depressing hypocrisy that grew ever-apparent to him day by day, but there was no need to sour a visit from his brother with such things. He set the glass down beside Barok and held up his own in a toasting gesture. Their glasses chimed melodically before both took a sip. Barok coughed a little, still unaccustomed to way whiskey punched the back of his throat when he swallowed it, "I imagine you were splendid, as always." "Oh?" Klint chuckled, his brother truly did worship him. Then, while he leaned against his desk, an idea came to him, "Hmmm! That's a thought..." "Huh?" "How about you take on a little work experience by my side, hm? I'm sure it would be fun to have you as my junior counsel for a while." "What? Really?" Barok looked simultaneously shocked and delighted, "I'd very much like to learn at your side, brother, I imagine there is much you could teach me about court etiquette and procedure!" "Then it's settled! I'll write to your professor and tell him you're to undertake a period of practical study beside me. After all, you're planning to become a prosecutor are you not?" he knew full well his brother intended to follow in his footsteps, which was incredibly flattering-- though he did have his reservations about what such a career might do to his darling brother's character. The younger nodded, "I should very much like to become a prosecutor." "Very good," he set his glass down and sat at his desk, taking a sheet of paper and his quill in hand, "We'll have that letter sent out today!" ──────≪⊰✥⊱≫─────── Barok had been to court many, many times but mostly to observe by way of the public gallery when safe to do so, or from a corner of the courtroom once he started being targeted due to Klint's ever-growing renown as the 'bane of criminals'. This, however, was on an entirely different scale: today he would be assisting with the proceedings -- a participant rather than a spectator. "You look nervous," Klint remarked as he stood beside his younger brother. "What... what do you mean?" "Your eyes," he said, chuckling behind his fist, "They're darting all over the place like a furtive rabbit's" "....O.. Oh..." he took a deep breath and shook his head, "I... didn't sleep much last night, my mind seemed to want to go over the case details again and again." "Mmmm, I had forgotten how it felt to be quite that nervous in court... still, it's good you feel that unsettled sense in the pit of your stomach. One should never be blasé about standing in this sombre hall of justice. It should always create a sense of disquiet, that is how you know you yet hold the essence of what it means to be an officer of the court," Klint took a glass and a decanter from under the bench and filled it with a small measure, "But, here, it doesn't hurt to settle your nerves." "Is that... whiskey?!" Barok uttered. "Yes, go on, for your nerves, little brother." He took a sip as directed, and choked again; still not used to that fiery punch in his throat, "T...thank you." Suddenly there were three loud knocks at the door followed by the court clerk's booming voice: "All persons who have anything to do before my Lords - the Queen's Justices - at the Central Criminal Court, draw near and give your attendance. God Save the Queen!" the clerk bowed to the judge then took a seat in the corner so as to record a transcript of the proceedings.

The Judge sat down, "In the name of her Majesty, Queen Victoria, I declare this court to be in session. God Save the Queen," the middle-aged man, whose hair was starting to fail him, though it was hidden under his white wig, cast his gaze over the persons in attendance, "Lord van Zieks, I see the prosecution has a junior member today." "Correct, my lord," Klint replied with a smile, "This is my younger brother, Barok, he desires to become a prosecutor, so I thought it only proper for him to accompany me on a few excursions so as to get a feel for the thing." "Quite right and very good," the Judge nodded, "I bid you welcome, young man, I hope you will learn much from your older brother, he is a skilled prosecutor and an invaluable asset to this court." "Y... Yes sir!" Barok said, standing straight to attention. Klint chuckled before placing a hand over his heart and bowing, "Thank you, my Lord, you honour me." "Now, Counsel, your opening statement, if you please." "With pleasure, my Lord..." ──────≪⊰✥⊱≫─────── Barok dutifully passed evidence and case notes to his brother as the case progressed, while also taking notes of things that struck him as important in terms of procedure, witness testimony and the general way in which matters progressed. He also made a few notes on Klint's control of the courtroom and general demeanour; the way he eloquently developed his arguments and appealed to the Jury with a seemingly effortless, poetic grace. It was a true masterclass in courtroom conduct and he longed to commit every second of it to his memory so that he might mimic his brother's style in the future. "I already told ya!" snapped the witness in the box, "I ain't never had nothin' to do with the gobshite!" Klint sighed while removing a handsome goblet, fashioned from silver and crystal, from under the bench and filling it with a measure of whiskey, "I'm going to overlook your use of a double negative, no doubt you'd have no sense of what that actually means, and presume that you're trying to deny all knowledge of the accused." "Double wot?" "Never mind all that, " Klint took a sip, startling Barok-- was his brother drinking in court?! The Judge didn't seem remotely bothered by it, in fact no one said a word. Did he do this often?? His brother continued, "You say you don't know that man in the dock." "That's right!" "Are you sure about that?" "W-Wot?! Why'd you keep askin' me that?! If you got somethin' to say about it then say it!" the witness looked flustered and vaguely guilty to Barok's untrained eye. "I'll do better than that," Klint said, setting his goblet down, "I'll show that you're lying to me, to this court and these fine men and women of the jury." "... U..urk..." the witness bit their bottom lip, "Yer lyin'! There ain't no proof to be had!" "I don't play games of bluff, good sir. Like any lawyer worth his salt: when I assert, I go on to prove what I'm saying," he held up a document, "Do you know what this is?" ".... Looks like a bit'o paper..." "It's a contract, signed between you and the accused. A... 'gentlemans' agreement of goods and for services rendered –– you, sir, would receive the stolen property from the accused and his associates, then sell it on for them via your Pawnbrokery!" "W-Whaaaaat?!" the witness recoiled, "W...Where'd you get that?!" "It was well hidden, I'll give you that," Klint replied with a smile, "But not well enough to escape my notice. You're as involved in this intricate criminal fencing enterprise as the accused!" The court descended into a shocked furor... ──────≪⊰✥⊱≫─────── "I think this is a good place to adjourn proceedings for today," the Judge observed after the breakdown of the witness, "Bailiff, have that man arrested and handed over to the Yard so he can answer questions about his involvement in this sordid affair!" The bailiff did as ordered and apprehended the witness.

"Thank you to both Counsel's, and our young junior, for their assistance today. We shall continue again first thing on Monday. Court is adjourned!" the Judge rose, nodding to the courtroom once before leaving.

Klint turned to his little brother and grinned, "Well? How was your first real day in court, brother?" "It... it was amazing!" Barok replied, eyes practically twinkling, "I was so awed by your performance! You truly are an exceptional legal mind and practitioner, brother!" He laughed, "Stop it... you'll make me blush!" "It's true! Though, I must say... I had no idea one could drink in court or kick the prosecutor's bench... those were most flamboyant and striking displays!" "Most people can't," Klint conceded, "But, well, it seems I have a flair for the dramatic. It must run in the blood... Our lord father was a similarly passionate man when it came to matters of court –– even when he occupied the bench as a Law Lord. Many a lawyer would refer to him as 'Good Lord Kicking' behind his back!" he laughed at the thought. "Wow... really?!" "Yes, really!"

[burstingsunrise]

fourth of july (every song’s about you)

For some reason, the idea that Calum thinks about Luke at all is a small shock. He thinks about Calum a lot, probably too much. He thought he’d go off to college and meet all these amazing people, new romantic prospects that would sweep him off his feet and make Calum seem boring by comparison. But all that happened was Luke met a lot of people, and none of them were as perfectly imperfect as Calum.

words: 3609 tw: none

on ao3 here.

this particular fic is a glorified prompt from em @pixiegrl who was like "i have a fic request perhaps," which i of course encouraged, and then she said, "Fourth of July by FOB as an angst fic pick the ship."

so thank you to em for giving me something a little different to do that made me feel excited about writing again for the first time in a while! and the timing is just perfect for me to put it out for the fourth so...angsty slash fic to celebrate america's freedom, or whatever!

The air is heavy and humid, but Luke doesn’t mind. He likes the reassuring weight of it on his skin and the way it makes everything feel just a little bit more important. He could live without the mosquitos biting at his arms, but it’s a small price to pay for the indescribable mix of nostalgia and peace he’s feeling right now.

It was strange at first, showing up at Michael’s house and letting himself through the gate into the backyard, unnoticed for a few seconds as he watched people he hadn’t seen outside of a screen for at least four years acting like time hadn’t progressed at all since they were seniors in high school. Luke may as well have stepped into one of the photos deep in his camera roll, from Michael’s birthday junior year, or the party they had the night before high school graduation.

So many moments in this yard. So many memories.

They keep bubbling up in his mind, even an hour later as Luke’s sprawled on his back in a chaise lounge, swatting away mosquitos and watching Ashton attempting backflips in a patch of soft grass while the daylight gently fades. Ashton used to be able to land them on his feet easily, but after four years of being out of practice, he’s falling to his knees on most of his attempts. Luke remembers the first time he landed on his feet, and they all clapped and whooped for him as he threw his arms up and his head back and saluted like an Olympic gymnast.

It was the first day of school junior year. Calum had been sitting next to Luke that afternoon, maybe even on the same chaise lounge Luke’s sitting on now, and Luke’s cheeks heat remembering how alive he felt under Calum’s attention, all the awkward flirty touches and the smiling at each other with unfocused eyes. Ashton spent the entire summer practicing, and it seemed remarkable somehow that his first successful landing happened to fall on the first day of school, like some sort of sign that they were in for an amazing year.

And it had been an amazing year, but it hurts to think about now.

So Luke tries not to, focusing his energy on egging on Ashton, laughing along with his friends, and letting the warmth of the early July evening seep into his soul. There are many reasons they gravitated to Michael’s backyard in high school, but tonight they’re here because of the perfect view of the town’s fireworks.

It was Ashton’s idea, of course, a Fourth of July party at Michael’s to bring them all back together for a night after being separated for college; a chance to see each other at least one more time before they all headed out to pursue the Rest of Their Lives. What a terrifying concept. Luke’s happy to put that off and spend some time with old friends; to pretend for a bit longer that he’s not actually an adult with responsibilities to worry about.

“Cupcake?” A red-frosted cupcake appears in front of Luke’s face, attached to a pale hand with chipped black nail polish.

“Of course,” Luke replies, plucking the cupcake carefully out of Michael’s hand. Michael sits down on the edge of Luke's lounger, careful not to tip them sideways. He watches Luke carefully as he peels the paper off his cupcake. Luke glares at him. “What?”

“You know Calum is coming, right?” Michael says it casually, like he’s not sure whether Luke cares one way or the other and doesn’t want to offend him by implying he does.

Does he care? He’s not at all sure.

“I…thought it might be a possibility,” Luke says. The thought had certainly crossed his mind. It would only make sense for Calum to be there; Calum was one of them. Just because they had broken up didn’t mean Calum wasn’t still Ashton’s best friend and Michael’s oldest friend. “By now I figured he wasn’t coming though.”

And maybe he was a little disappointed about it. Not because he was still pining for Calum or something; he was just curious. Over these past few years he’d seen Calum on social media, read his annoyingly funny captions and cataloged the various iterations of his hairstyles and the lifespan of his graphic t-shirts, from crisp and new to soft and littered with holes around the neckline. But he’s still curious, wants to see how Calum acts, if he’s still the same quiet, laid-back, but secretly chaotic troublemaker Luke remembers him to be.

Selfishly, he also wants Calum to see him, and wants to see Calum’s reaction to seeing him. Because Luke knows he’s different now. Physically, yes, but in other ways too. College gave him a new confidence and comfort inside his own mind and skin. High school Luke was silly and a little awkward and shy, unwilling to come out of his shell for just anyone, and when he did, he was always a little self conscious about it. Always quick to adjust his behavior if he caught someone giving him a strange look for getting tired of his stupid jokes or his clinginess or just him, in general.

He’s still silly and a little awkward and shy around new people, but he stands his ground now, unwilling to change the core parts of his personality just to fit in, and he’s proud of that.

Calum has always been like that.

Okay, maybe Luke thinks about Calum a lot. Maybe Luke’s brain frequently rides the “what if” wave, daydreaming about how life might be different if they were still together. If they got back together, even. Would they still fit? Would it be even better than it was before?

“He got hung up at a family thing, but he’s on his way,” Michael says, tense eyes on the cupcake in Luke’s hand.

Luke takes a big bite, no doubt smearing the red frosting in the corners of his mouth. It’s sickly sweet, just the way he likes. It seems to relax Michael, though, and Luke tries to smile reassuringly while he chews. “It’s fine,” he says after he swallows. “Might be nice to catch up.” Luke shrugs, aiming for casual indifference, and takes another bite of his cupcake.

***

It’s not quite dark when Calum arrives, but all the backyard lights are already on, casting a bright glow on Calum’s face as he slinks through the sliding glass door from Michael’s house onto the patio. Luke watches him from his darker corner of the yard, unsure if Calum can see him. He probably wouldn’t pick him out of the crowd anyway, with everyone else being much louder and livelier in the center of the yard around the bonfire.

Luke seems to notice him before anyone else does. He takes in Calum’s baggy shorts and even baggier t-shirt, his checkered vans and the slightly overgrown curls on his head, and he physically clenches at how familiar it is. Luke can almost smell Calum, feel Calum’s arms around him, hear his voice low in his ear saying I really fucking love you, because Calum always did things a little more than everyone else. He didn’t just love Luke. He really fucking loved him. Luke was a little afraid no one would love him like that ever again.

Within a few seconds, Michael spots Calum and tackles him in a hug, and Calum’s bright laughter echoes around the yard. It makes Luke smile automatically, apparently still happy to see Calum happy, even after they broke each other’s hearts. Funny how that works.

Luke observes as Calum makes small talk with all their friends, stray hugs and wide smiles around the crackling fire. He should probably go over and say hello if he doesn’t want this to be weird, but he feels like he’s glued to his chair.

He can’t physically make himself get up. So he watches. Appreciates the way all the little details of Calum are exactly the same as he remembers. He even moves the same, somehow more elegant than everyone else as he roasts a marshmallow to perfection for Michael to make a s’more. Michael is always too impatient, setting his marshmallows on fire and burning them to a blackened char.

It wasn’t very many July Fourths ago, in the same exact spot, that Calum licked marshmallow and melted chocolate off Luke’s fingers, Luke’s confused teenage body responding simultaneously with a spark in his belly and a hiccupy giggle. That’s a memory Luke hadn’t dredged up in a long while, and his chest hurts thinking of it now.

He’s still quietly watching when Calum looks up from the picnic table where he’s assembling Michael’s s’more and catches Luke staring. There’s a flicker of confusion in Calum’s eyes, quickly replaced with soft determination. He looks away, nudging Michael with a plate until he takes his s’more, then he starts the short walk across the yard to Luke.

It’s excruciating, watching him come closer, one step at a time. Luke doesn’t know what to do with his hands or his face while he waits, so he settles on raising his eyebrows and waving pathetically, like fancy meeting you here, as if both of them didn’t already know they would.

“Almost didn’t recognize you,” Calum says, hovering at the foot of Luke’s lounger. He’s backlit, and it’s hard for Luke to make out the details of his expression. Probably for the best.

“I don’t look that different, do I?” Luke wonders, tamping down the anxiety threatening to burst out of his chest.

Calum looks him over slowly and Luke feels even warmer under Calum’s blazing eyes. “I don’t know.” He sits down sideways on the edge of the lounger next to Luke, elbows on his knees. “You do and you don’t,” he settles on, offering Luke a small smile.

His eyes keep roaming over Luke with that tiny hint of confusion, like his mind is working in overdrive to update its catalog with this new version of Luke, connecting the visual in front of him with the memories he has stored away, memories that feature an entirely different version of Luke.

“You don’t,” Luke says confidently. Calum is maybe a little broader, and he has a hint of a beard, and he’s wearing a chain around his neck that high school Calum wouldn’t have gone anywhere near, but he mostly looks the same. Same style, same mannerisms, same neverending kindness in his burning eyes.

Calum’s smile widens at Luke’s words. “How have you been?”

How do you even begin to cover four years’ worth of life? Life’s made up of all the little day-to-day moments anyway. Luke can’t very well start telling Calum about the cute dog he saw on his walk to campus three years ago, or the way the ice cream shop across from his apartment had a delicious pumpkin butterbeer flavor last Halloween. None of it feels important enough to share, and yet. Those little unimportant things make up everything, don’t they?

“Good,” Luke says, biting at the inside of his cheek. “You know. I graduated. Now I have to figure out what to do with myself.”

Calum chuckles awkwardly and the pain in Luke’s chest spreads until he feels like he’s suffocating. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be between them. It’s not supposed to be work, talking to Calum. It never was before, and Luke doesn’t know how to deal with it now.

“You have a job lined up?” Calum doesn’t seem to be as affected by the weirdness of the situation, but then, he’s always been better at hiding his feelings.

“Not yet,” Luke says. “I have some good leads though. You?” It’s so bland. So mundane. Luke wants to puke.

“Yeah,” Calum says shyly, like he’s afraid he’ll offend Luke by admitting his life is slightly more together. “I have an internship with this graphic design firm? It’s paid though, and it might be a foot in the door.” Calum grimaces, and Luke can almost see him silently berating himself for using the phrase foot in the door. It’s reassuring. They’re both struggling through this conversation after all.

Graphic design. Luke didn’t even know that’s what Calum ended up studying in college. The thought pains him, because even though they’re not together, they loved each other. It feels wrong not to know something so basic about a person Luke once loved. Are they strangers now? Now that they’ve had so many stray moments come and go in the last four years without the other person being there or hearing about them?

“That’s great,” Luke chokes out, trying to keep his voice light and congratulatory. “Here in town?”

Calum looks across the yard at their friends around the fire. Is he looking for an escape already? “Out in LA.”

While Calum going to LA for college wasn’t the only reason they broke up, it certainly didn’t help. Not much point in trying to keep a sinking ship above water if one of you is already jumping into a lifeboat.

“You like it there, then?” Fuck. Luke wants to gouge his eyes out with the metal pokers their friends are using to roast marshmallows.

“It takes some getting used to,” Calum says. “But it’s not bad once you find your places, you know?” He looks at Luke with wide, imploring eyes, and it soothes Luke’s nerves a little. Calum is trying to make this conversation a success, trying to push through the initial awkwardness, and Luke’s willing to try with him. Desperate to, actually.

“Yeah, I get that. What are your places?”

“In-N-Out Burger, of course,” Calum starts, nodding his head in satisfaction. Luke smiles, maybe the first real smile since he’s started talking to Calum, and Calum grins back at him unabashedly.

“Of course,” Luke encourages.

“There’s a vintage store in West LA I love,” Calum continues, getting excited now. “Last time I went they had a fucking Nickelback shirt that made me think of you.”

For some reason, the idea that Calum thinks about Luke at all is a small shock. He thinks about Calum a lot, probably too much. He thought he’d go off to college and meet all these amazing people, new romantic prospects that would sweep him off his feet and make Calum seem boring by comparison. But all that happened was Luke met a lot of people, and none of them were as perfectly imperfect as Calum.

Calum’s imperfections were things that suited Luke. The fact that he laughed too easily at things that weren’t that funny, the way he got quiet and withdrawn when he was overwhelmed, his affinity for setting the thermostat uncomfortably high because he ran cold – all things Luke could deal with, and even appreciate.

Calum’s easy laughter was perfect for Luke, who loved nothing more than to make him laugh. Calum’s quiet response to being overwhelmed balanced out Luke’s anxious one. Calum’s cooler body chilled Luke’s when they tangled together, and Luke’s blazing skin kept Calum warm in turn.

“I almost bought it to send to you,” Calum says, tone softening. He runs a hand through his hair, scrunching his fingers just a bit, and Luke remembers when he used to get to do that. The feeling of the soft strands of hair between his fingers, and the weight of Calum’s head in his hand when he’d lean into Luke’s touch. “I’m glad I didn’t though. It wouldn’t have fit you now that you’re a giant. When did that happen, anyway?” Calum punches Luke lightly in the arm and Luke laughs, even though what he really wants to do is hide behind Michael’s shed and scream or cry or do something to release this strange mix of emotions swirling inside him.

“I don’t know, must’ve been the dining hall chicken nuggets,” Luke offers halfheartedly.

Calum latches on like it’s a lifeline. “I thought you were going to become a vegetarian when you went to college?”

Of course Calum remembers that; Luke went on and on about his grand plan to use college as an opportunity to finally go vegetarian for months, before. Before they broke up, before they went to different parts of the country. It’s just strange hearing Calum acknowledge it, because that means he’s acknowledging them.

Raising his eyebrows guiltily, Luke says, “I lied?”

“I always wondered if you ever followed through on that.”

Now that Calum has brought up their shared history, Luke feels freer. The past isn’t off limits. Strangely, this small shift makes all the difference. He feels the oppressive awkwardness of the moment dissipating, evaporating along with the humidity in the air. “You knew I didn’t, Calum,” Luke accuses. “You know my willpower is shit.”

“I sure as hell do.” Calum stifles a laugh with his hand over his mouth. “Remember when you made me promise not to let you kiss me until you finished your history portfolio for Mr. G’s class?” There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes that makes Luke’s heart stutter.

“Fucking hell,” Luke grumbles good-naturedly, steadfastly ignoring the way his heart is thudding in his chest. “Set myself up for failure there, didn’t I?”

“How long was it you lasted? Twelve minutes?” Calum shakes his head as he picks lazily at a scab on his knee.

“Had to have been at least twenty.” Luke’s rebuttal is a flat-out lie, delivered with a guilty smile. He knows Calum is right, and he’s thrilled that Calum remembers this moment so specifically. Sometimes he forgets that Calum cared too, once, and maybe still does. Luke doesn’t like to think like this. He doesn’t want to hope Calum still cares the way he still cares. It would make the whole situation unbearably sad.

“I gave you a hard time about it, but it was probably just as rough for me. You wore your glasses to study and I always loved you in glasses. So hot.”

Luke can feel himself start to blush, and he wonders if this, and his increasingly rapid heartbeat, are just his body reverting to some sort of innate Calum response, going on autopilot as if no time had passed since Calum used to make Luke blush daily.

It seems like Calum can sense it too, smirking at Luke like he knows, even in the fading light, that Luke is still responding to him the same way he did when he was sixteen.

“Yeah, well. You haven’t seen my new glasses,” Luke says, biting his lip to hold back a smile. He means for it to be self-deprecating, but he realizes a moment too late that it sounds like he’s flirting. Shit. This is a sure sign he’s gotten too comfortable with this conversation and needs to find a way out of it as quickly as possible, before someone (he) gets hurt.

“I’d really like to see them,” Calum replies, a little flirty as well, but there’s also something earnest there, a sincerity in his eyes, and Luke trips over it, keeping his eyes locked with Calum’s for probably too long, because Calum jerks his head to look at their friends, joking around the bonfire, before he speaks again.

“I miss you.”

Luke leans forward, holding his breath, unsure he heard correctly over the laughter of his friends and the incessant buzz of cicadas. He’s afraid to acknowledge the words. He must have heard wrong. He can’t say I miss you too if there’s even a small chance he’s –

“You heard me right,” Calum says, shifting his eyes back to Luke with intention, silently begging Luke to respond and save him from his own embarrassment.

“Can’t believe you can still read my mind after four years apart,” Luke replies, quietly astonished. His mind spins and cartwheels around all the things he could say, frantically trying to calculate the risk of revealing the truth.

“I wish that were true.” Calum’s voice is tight, and Luke realizes that they’re both agonizing over the same fucking thing. He can put them both out of their misery with four words, but what good does it do to admit it? Then again, what good has it done not to admit it?

“I miss you too,” he says, quickly, in one rushed exhale, before he can talk himself out of it.

He doesn’t expect Calum to laugh, and it seems like maybe Calum even surprises himself with how quickly he tries to choke it back. “Damn. Okay. Okay. That’s a fucking relief.” He shakes his head and rolls his shoulders like he’s overwhelmed, and he’s looking at Luke in this very specific way.

The way he used to look at him from across the lunch table in the cafeteria, from the passenger seat of Luke’s old car, and from the pillow next to him in his bed late on weekend nights.

Luke squeaks out a disbelieving laugh of his own, and his chest flutters when Calum’s eyes fill with fondness at the sound of it.

Luke taps his fingers on his armrest, the nervous tension bleeding out his fingertips. There’s something unspoken between them, exhilarating and hopeful, but also something with the power to break them, again. He looks at Calum, wide-eyed and breathless. “So what do we do about it?”

Calum stretches out in his lounger and tilts his head to the sky. “For now? Just watch the fireworks.”

A sudden boom draws Luke’s eyes up just as a shower of purple and green sparks rain across the sky above them. He’s watching them fall to the ground, embers that could start a fire, when he feels Calum’s fingers slip between his.

[todoscript]

10, Tamaki Amajiki, fluff or smut

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prompt: 10. “You really shouldn’t touch that… I told you.” genre: fluff.  pairing: amajiki tamaki x fem!reader word count: 2.0k+ warnings: mentions of insecurities.

author’s note: This is longer than a drabble should be but I couldn’t control myself. Also, this is my first time writing for Tamaki so I hope I did well portraying him. Big thank you to @burnedbyshoto for being my beta reader as well as recommending the title for this work!

Tamaki Amajiki has experienced an extraordinary amount of circumstances in his life so far that not many boys his age could even imagine to go through. He’s fought crooks, robots, supervillains, hell even the yakuza, and has managed to come out in one piece every time and claim victory. Of course, he has his training and studies from a prestigious hero school to thank for equipping him with the tools he needs to combat such peril. However, no amount of training or experience could truly prepare him for this new, menacing adversary.

A classroom full of school children.

Being a trio backed up by the honorable title of The Big 3, Mirio, Nejire, and Tamaki were given the opportunity to represent U.A. High School as they speak to classrooms of elementary students next week. This was a chance to talk with the younger generation and encourage them to think about a possible career as a crime fighter, while also ensuring that their futures were in safe hands thanks to heroes like them.

As a shy, introverted person whose solution in these social situations is to envisage everyone in the form of vegetables, Tamaki was not keen on this idea. Kids were boisterous and contained way too much energy in their little bodies to handle, making it much harder to conjure them as potatoes in his head. Not only that, but these days they’ve grown judgemental and full of themselves. They boast about their newly developed quirks amongst each other at playgrounds, already comparing their abilities at such an early age. All in all, his fragile spirit cannot handle interacting with these miniature monsters.

Nejire and Mirio seemed much better suited for this task. They glowed with charisma, and their energetic personalities naturally drew people to them. No doubt, the kids will especially be fond of how receptive they are to their young and frisky attitudes. Tamaki felt he just paled in comparison behind their light; however, his two friends would not allow him to deem himself that way.

“C’mon Tamaki, you have so many things going for you!” assures an optimistic Mirio during lunch as Tamaki sulks in the thought of meeting the kids. “You have an amazing quirk! I bet if you show it off, the kids will love it.”

True, the ability to manifest certain animal attributes depending on whatever he digests could tide the youngsters into liking him. But at the same time, would they really be captivated that easily? Aren’t kids at that age more into flashy things like lasers and explosions? No one wants to see him with cow hooves and clam hands, not with Nejire spiraling concussive vitality from her palms and Mirio shooting right up out of solid ground.

“I… I don’t know if the kids would be into my quirk…” he murmurs, eyes averting to his twiddling thumbs beneath the table.

“Amajiki, if you’re aiming to be a Pro Hero, you can’t let a bunch of ten-year-olds deter you!” chides Nejire. She forks a bit of her strewn pasta.

“Easy for you to say, Hadou. You’re bubbly and approachable. Everyone always comes to you. Meanwhile, the freshmen were intimidated by me before I even spoke a word.” Tamaki broods at his plate of food that grows colder during the conversation, but he can’t muster an appetite to eat it. “I can’t imagine how the kids would feel.”

Nejire chews on her noodles with a pitched hum. The trill ceases the moment her eyes light up, an idea flickering in her head.

“Say, how about you visit ____ at support during hero training today? I bet she can hook you up with some flashy gear that they’ll like.”

The utter of your name sends Tamaki’s body rigid.

“Oop, I think you touched something you shouldn’t have, Nejire,” Mirio gestures to the steely expression written over their friend’s face.

Dealing with children was one thing, but you were another matter entirely.

Being enrolled at U.A. since their very first year, the senior students of the hero and support departments coincided together. They drew out each other’s potentials—whether it was fighting on the battlefield or producing new innovative gadgets in workshops. Naturally, within that time, Tamaki developed a fondness for you.

You were a spirited individual driven by your passion for creating and bringing out the very best out of everyone you worked with, which included himself. With him, you were patient, never one to discourage or berate him despite his nervous and awkward nature that he viewed as probably a displeasure to work with. You took all his strengths and weaknesses to heart, and created the right tools to make him shine in triumph.

If Tamaki is the dead night, then you are the moon and stars that lit up his dark twilight, enlightening the world with his true potential.

However, the boy has never brought up his feelings to you, driven back by the thought you didn’t reciprocate, or wanted to focus more on your future as a craftswoman rather than prattle with romance. To bring you up in his dilemma of having to interact with mere elementary school kids is the last thing he wants to do.

“I don’t—”

“C’mon Tamaki! This is the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone!” Nejire enthusiastically waves a finger ready to describe her expertly thought-out plan. “You come to ____ asking for some of her gear, the ordeal brings you closer together, and then boom, you naturally confess your feelings and then impress those kids next week!” She sits with a proud, lifted head and hands on her hips after explaining her master proposal.

“Hm that’s quite an ambitious plan, Nejire,” chuckles Mirio.

“Way too ambitious if you ask me,” Tamaki scowls, uncertainty forming in his features.

“Confessing to someone you’ve liked for so long doesn’t come that easily…”

Nejire pouts, spinning the last remnants of her pasta around her fork. “Well I say you should still think it over! If anything, the new gear could help.”

And so he does. Lunch soon passes in the next flutter of an eyelash. During an academic class, Tamaki ponders the idea a bit more until it’s eventually time for their hero training course.

Lo and behold, he’s standing right outside the development studio with wickedly narrow brows and contemplating eyes, acting like if he glared at the door hard enough, all his problems would be solved. With his feet cemented into the ground, he doesn’t budge for the next couple of minutes. His mind bounces between his predicament and the possible solutions at hand, reaching to a standstill. Ultimately, he knows nothing will come out of not making a decision, so after another second of thought, he decides to progress.

The steel door jars open at a slide of the handle and Tamaki ganders at the messy workspace before him. He navigates through a mess of gizmos and gadgets with careful hesitant steps.

“____? Are you in here? I, um, need your help with something,” he calls, tentative voice drawing out across the room.

“Tamaki? Is that you?” He hears the distance between your voices, “Sorry, I’ll be with you in just a minute…”

He nods to no one in particular, standing in place as his fingers play with the hem of his white, hooded cape. Too late to turn back now, he thinks. While he dawdles, he can’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, eyeing the vast amounts of meticulously crafted contraptions and accessories all developed in a high school workshop.

The support course sure is something else, Tamaki regards the creativity such students have, being able to construct so many complicated gadgets. He doesn’t know how you do it, but supposes that was another charm about you that he admired so much.

Suddenly, a whirring noise catches his attention, and he turns in its direction. He spots a device flaring in place on a table across from him, the widget shifting and flashing into an assortment of colors that isn’t comfortable for his liking.

“Uh… ____… C-Can you come out real quick? I think there’s something wrong with this thing,” he warns, tone rising with every dissonant sound the device continues to resonate.

“OK Tamaki, I’m done. What do you need— Whoa!”

Your words are cut off by Tamaki, pulling you to him using vines sprouted from his fingers, thanks to the vegetables he managed to eat today. Confused, you brace against his chest as the evident droning whir increases in volume. Tamaki holds a wavering hand over the device.

“Ah wait, Tamaki, you really shouldn’t touch that!” you cautioned. However, Tamaki’s entire hand transforms into a giant clam that quickly envelopes the contraption just as it flares and reaches its peak. He contains the small burst of energy within his shell with a wince, preventing any catastrophe from befalling on both of you and the work studio.

“Hehe, told you,” you shakily laugh off which makes him sigh as he releases you from his steady grasp.

“____, you could’ve gotten severely hurt,” he chides.

“But I didn’t because of you, so thank you very much, Suneater,” you say with a grin. Tamaki slightly tugs his hood down to obscure the growing blush on his cheeks that threaten to expose his flustered reaction to your gratitude.

“It... It was nothing,” he manages. You nod in response before approaching the faulty contraption, shifting your gaze side-to-side to inspect the damage.

“Sorry about that, I think this is one of Hatsume’s inventions from Class 1-F.”

You toss it into a pile of other defective equipment, relaying in your mind to reprimand your junior later.

“Anyways, is there anything I can do for you, Tamaki? You said something about needing my help?” Ah, right, he nearly forgot. He slowly nods.

“I need some new gear…” he admits. A light of passion infused with curiosity dazzles in your eyes.

“What for? Going to face a new powerhouse crime organization next week? Ooh, maybe another gangster threat in the criminal underground? Or perhaps you need something to combat a future natural disaster?” you surmise, but Tamaki only avoids your gaze at all your grand guesses when comparing it to the true reason:

“I need something to impress these kids I’ll be talking to next week…” he mutters under his breath, as if embarrassed.

“Huh?” You knit your eyebrows, muddled by the answer. Tamaki’s head imbues with self-conscious, anxious thoughts about what you must be thinking. However, your response to his predicament is one that leaves him more perplexed than you are.

“Why? You don’t need any gear to impress anyone. You’re fine the way you are,” you say without a single pause or hint of doubt in your tone. Tamaki pauses, grabbing his bearings at your statement before eyeing his spread out hands, unsure.

“But I’m so plain, not flashy or charismatic like Mirio and Hadou… Would kids like me the way I am?” he urges the question with uncertainty, keeping his stare on his calloused palms.

Would you like me the way I am?

You reach out for his hands, holding your own over them and bringing his wavering gaze to peer into yours.

“Tamaki, the kids will like you for who you are as long as you’re passionate about what you’re aiming to do. And that’s to save everyone and become a hero, right?” you assure, slightly tilting your head.

“You protected me without even a thought in your mind just now. That makes you heroic and courageous,” you continue, “Your nervous and shy personality are just small little quirks about you that make you who you are. You don’t need to change that.”

A smile of pure adoration forms on your lips. “Plus it’s what I like so much about you.”

Tamaki’s eyes lift in realization at your statement, his hands slowly gripping yours from below like he may not have heard you correctly.

“You like me?” he repeats, and you nod your head.

“I’ve liked you since our first year, silly.” You giggle at the stunned look etched on his face.

“I…” his words are caught in his throat for a second over the growing developments, but with every ounce of his being, he musters them out, his tone laced in only warmth and affection for you.

“I’ve liked you too, ___, I-I always have. You were so dazzling that I couldn’t help but let these feelings for you grow, and now, I’m glad I got to say them to you.” He finally admits to all the emotions stirred inside him for the past three years, and your smile widens. You inch forward, planting a small peck on his cheek that renders him a flustered mess from the surprise.

“Alright, go show those kids who Suneater is next week!”

Nejire’s plan was a success, after all.

[babyboy-cody]

‘ ‘ chapter | 01 ’ ’

complex desires. ( prologue ) ( masterlist )

SUMMARY: It’s the first week of classes after winter break, but you’re not exactly used to seeing new faces - teachers and students in between.

WARNINGS: explicit language, mentions of mental disorders, anxious thoughts, anxiety attack

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

NOTES: i’m currently writing this chapter while drinking a big ass mug of hot cocoa. also, hunter’s pronouns are they/them! this series is one i’m most excited for. hope you kiddies enjoy <3

It was still early when the clouds gave off their rain to the grass and trees, when the road became alive with more splashes than your eyes could appreciate. Yet together they brought such a soothing sound, a natural melody every bit as beautiful as a mother's soulful hum. You felt each splash that touched your skin, watching as your cardigan become a deeper, more rocky hue. It was as if earlier the street had been a matte photograph, only to be washed as glossy as any magazine page.

Each raindrop is a kaleidoscope, if people could only see more closely. You wonder as you walk how it would be to stop time, to suspend this watery gift and peek through each one. Perhaps it would be fun to sit inside those raindrops and take that gravity propelled ride to the earth, as you imagine it you feel your inner self laughing – a little at the crazy daydream and a little at your own silliness. You see the rain beads upon the cars, upon each leaf and washing your outstretched fingers. Soon they will pull together, forming the puddles, opening up a whole new avenue of rain-related fun. Perhaps it isn't normal to love a rainy day so much, but who cares about normal anyway? You’re pretty sure "normal" is a made up thing.

Upon the umbrella come the playful sounds of dancing drops, and from it's rim comes the sight of their more relaxed cousins, dripping as if their soul purpose was to bring a sense of ease and calm to the day. And as the rain became more intense, it began to soak the bottom of each dark blue jean leg, deepening the denim to a stronger hue, bringing your brown boots to a glossy water-shine, becoming a kind of natural cocoon.

Each raindrop is a doorway into nature's heart, an invitation of sorts, a request for your soul to rejoin creation. In the rain there is a serenity, a sense of peace that offers to resonate with the peaceful elements of the soul. Walking among those drops is your meditation, a way to fully become present in the moment, a way to feel free.

There was a vibration coming to life in the back pocket of your jeans, cutting you out of your peaceful daydream in the rain. You stepped to the side to allow a cyclist to pass by and gave him a brief smile when he nodded his head in thanks. When you pulled out your phone to read the contact, you instantly smiled when seeing Mickey’s name on the screen.

“Okay, first off, hello. Second off, where the hell are you? Me and Hunter – okaayy – Hunter and I have been in the cafeteria since 7:15 in the goddamn morning,” she immediately went off as soon as you put the phone to your ear. “Also, did you take your meds today? My alarm went off as a reminder.”

“First off, hi back, Mick. Second off, it’s been 15 minutes and I’m five minutes away from the school. It’s fine if we don’t have breakfast today just once,” you laughed as you heard her scoff. “And thirdly, yes mom, I did take my meds. I actually have to get another refill for my BPD meds. Thank you for asking.”

“Yeah, yeah. Well, you better hurry. We have the last of your favorite yogurt and Hunter’s close to eating the damn thing,” you heard Mickey laugh as she shushes her significant other. “Also, be careful coming around the usual entrance. The school is doing some bogus construction to add a statue of the principal.”

“You’re shitting me!” You exclaimed, earning a dirty glare from a tiny senior citizen as she slowly walks passed you with her small cane. “What the hell did this prick do to earn that? Also, can you grab me a fruit cup too? I’ve been craving kiwi’s for some odd reason.”

“Well, he’s wicked rich and can basically do anything in this school and get away with it, literally. And there’s no fruit cups today, but there’s a bag of sliced apples and tangerine slices,” Mickey told you as she huffed, which you assume is her getting out of her seat to go back to the assortment of breakfast foods. “Ooh, there’s bagels too. I think they just added these.”

“Jesus Christ, this statue is stupid as hell,” you groaned and stood in front of the half built statue, your principal’s name on a gold plated plaque attached to the marble. “This guy really needs an ego boost, huh? And just tangerine slices then. I’m heading inside.”

“Alright, see you soon, baby doll.” She annoyingly kisses into the phone as you snorted and rolled your eyes at her antics.

Sliding your phone back into your pocket, you stood outside the entrance doors and shook the leftover raindrops from your yellow umbrella before closing it. You inhaled the fresh rain water for one last time before grasping onto the freezing cold and disgustingly wet doorknob and pulling it open to head inside. There was a small litter of students here and there; some reading new announcements on the bulletin board in the main hall; some sitting in the lounging chairs with laptops or textbooks open on their laps; some sitting on the ground with a half empty bottle of water beside their laps and phones in their hands, headphones in their ears. You terribly, annoyingly, and oddly missed this. You missed the bustle of students laughing and running down the halls. You missed it all, even if it has been two weeks.

You hear loud chatter coming from just ahead, so you know you’re about to enter the cafeteria area. Just as you’re about to do so, you stop in your tracks in front of a bulletin board. There were a few posters for new clubs, as well as study groups, upcoming announcements, room changes, and more. But one that really struck out to you was a new story writing group, specifically for writers or English majors. You felt a burst of excitement spread throughout your chest and settle into the pit of your stomach. You made sure to take a quick photo of the sheet beforr moving on into the cafeteria.

Almost immediately, you spotted Hunters straight platinum blonde hair and fiery streaks on one side while the other was icy blue. Sitting in front of them was Mickey, her hair curly and unruly, making you wonder if she rolled out of bed, threw some clothes on, and called it a day. You felt your cheek mucles twitch as your lips pulled up into a bright smile. Hunter was the first to notice you. They looked up at you passed Mickey’s shoulder and smiled so brightly that it made you reciprocate. They adorned bright orange eyeshadow with white eyeliner, making their eyes pop out even more. You loved how they didn’t cake on makeup, they kept it simple, yet so drop dead gorgeous.

“There she is, the man of the hour,” they announced and got up from their seat to pull you in for a warm, tight hug. “I missed you so much. I’m so sorry for not messaging you the entire break. We didn’t have any service whatsoever.” There was a crestfallen look on Hunter’s face and you held their cheeks so they wouldn’t look away.

“Look at me, don’t stress about it, okay? Did you at least have fun?” They nodded with a pout. You grinned and gave their forehead a kiss before pulling them in for another hug.

“Okay, first you’re late. And now you’re stealing my person. I see how it is,” Mickey smirked as you gave her the bird behind Hunter’s back as you both pulled away from the hug. “Hi Y/N.”

“Hi Michelle,” you responded in the same tone as you sat in an empty chair around the table. “Give me my tangerine, please.” She passed you the small cup of tangerine slices with a grin when you began eating them.

“You been eating three times a day?” She asked you, looking at you through her mane of curls rather than pushing her hair away. You shrugged and kept your eyes on the half empty cup in your hands. “Y/N..”

“I’m doing it little by little, Mick. And I’m starting to drink water too,” you blushed and laughed softly when her and Hunter began praising you. Praise was something you weren’t used to, but hearing it every now and then really gave you butterflies. “It’s nothing..”

“Are you kidding me?” Hunter laughed and reached over to lay a hand over yours. “This is amazing. This is progress and we’re both so very proud of you.”

“You’ve come a long way,” Mickey lightly bumped your shoulder with her knuckles as Hunter pulled away. “You should do a meal plan like I did when I had to get my weight back up, so that way you don’t forget to eat three times a day.”

“I don’t know.. I don’t exactly have the funds to buy a lot of groceries. I had to use over $100 of my food stamps cause almost everything in my kitchen was old,” you huffed and popped another tangerine slice into your mouth. “Plus, I’ve been busy with finding a job and paying for my therapy appointments and doing school work, and it’s all so fucking overwhelming.”

The first bell rang, signaling students to begin their walk to class with only a few more minutes to spare. You grabbed your shoulder bag and stood beside Mickey while she held onto Hunter’s hand. The three of you passed by a swarm of students; freshman’s and sophomores running by to get to the lecture halls early; juniors having their books and laptops already out and pressed to their chests; seniors loitering in the halls with their friends. Thankfully, you, Hunter, and Mickey had your first English class together.

“How about this?” Mickey began. “Hunter and I will help pay for your groceries.” She hushed you as you began to lightly protest. “Listen, you already got a lot on your plate. I’d be a really shitty best friend if I allowed you to deal with all that. So every week, we’re gonna swing by your place to drop off some stuff, okay? I’ll create a meal plan for you with your favorites, so that way we’re taking that worry for money off your back.”

“Mick, you don’t have to do that for me. Like I said, I’ll find a way,” you mumbled and shrugged as you walked up the long staircase to head up to the lecture halls. “I couldn’t do that to you guys.”

“Y/N,” Hunter stopped you three in the middle of the hallway. “We care about you and we don’t want you going down that negative route alone. We both have jobs and enough money to cover Mickey and I, and it’ll seriously make me the happiest if you let us do this, please.”

“Two more minutes until class begins,” the voiceover on the speaker spoke.

“Fine,” you sighed, feeling a smile pull your lips as you all continued walking to the English room. “I love you both. And I’m very grateful for you to do this for me.”

“We know,” Mickey told you as she kissed your cheek obnoxiously, causing you to groan and Hunter to laugh. “But in all seriousness, don’t be a stranger to asking, okay?”

You nodded and gave her a reassuring smile as you made your up the steps to your seats in the bottom middle row. Mickey sat in between you and Hunter as more students filled the class. There was light chatter and soft clatter as seats were pulled down and the folding desks were pulled up. You set your bag between your feet, being cautious of not getting it dirty from your boots. Pulling out your spiral notebook that had four sections, you neatly wrote the course name, your name, and the date. Nervously clicking your pen, you tried to block out the noise that had started to get a little too loud. Nibbling on your bottom lip to distract yourself, your feet began tapping on its own while you tapped your pen on your book. Mickey and Hunter were having a conversation of their own, so they didn’t notice the early signs of a small anxiety attack.

An invisible hand clasps over your mouth; an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline pierces your heart, unloading in an instant. You feel your ribs heaving as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate your lungs. Your head is a carousel of fears spinning out of control, each one pushing your mind into blackness. You want to run; you need to freeze. Sounds that were near feel far away, like you’re no longer in the body that sits paralyzed in the cold seat. Your breath comes out in rapid, shallow breaths as you shake your head at yourself.

“No, no, no,” you harshly whisper as your bobbing knee gets almost frantic.

You felt the panic begin like a cluster of spark plugs in your abdomen. Tension grew your her face and limbs, your mind replaying the last attack. You held onto the sides of your head, your elbows digging into the hardness of your desk. Your only movement was the trembling of your limbs and salty tears darkening your sleeves. There you stayed, unaware of the numerous eyes watching you until Mickey turned and noticed your frantic state.

“Shit,” she hissed and slung her arm across your desk as the other wrapped around your shoulders. “I’m here, Y/N. It’s okay.. sshhh.. I’m right here.” She noticed a few students staring, to which she narrowed her eyes and snarled, “What the fuck are you looking at, dipshits?!” They immediately looked away after being caught. She turned her attention back on you. “What’s going on, huh?” Her voice was soft and soothing as she smoothed her hand down your hair.

“It-It’s so.. loud,” you hiccuped and covered your face even more when a sob escaped your lips, spit flying onto your hands as you felt your neck, cheeks, and ears heat up out of embarrassment and shame. “I can’t stop it, Mick. I-I can’t!”

Hunter sat on the other side of you, reaching down to get your back, shuffling their hand inside to pull out your earplugs and inhaler. They handed the earplugs fo Mickey while pressing the opening of the inhaler to your lips. “Come on, babe,” they quietly told you and tucked a few strands of hair behind your ears, lightly blowing on your flushed skin to cool it down. “There we go,” they gently said when you took two deep puffs of your inhaler while Mickey made sure your earplugs were snug inside your ears. You felt your lungs open up as the cold, bitter medicine settled on your tongue.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper and shook your head, wiping away the last of your tears. You sniffled and looked at Mickey and Hunter. “I-I don’t know what happened.. it just... happened.”

“It’s always unexplained, but don’t be sorry for something you can’t control, okay?” Mickey told you firmly while making sure you were looking into her eyes. “This doesn’t make you any less of a person.”

Hunter smiled and sat your bag back between your feet before moving to their seat next to Mickey. All the students had settled down, their conversations now a quiet murmur. You felt relieved as you pulled your earplugs out and slid them inside your protective case, making sure the lid was closed tight before shoving it into your bag. Mickey kept an eye on you the entire time, making sure no one triggered you. She sat with an elbow resting on the back her chair with her legs lightly spread.

“You’re man-spreading,” you quietly told her, laughing quietly when she flipped you off.

Suddenly, the metal doors opened and a man hurriedly walks in with an expensive looking leather messenger back over his shoulder. Your lips parted and you sat up straight in your seat when he gave the class a guilty smile. You’ve never seen him in the school. Not even before break. He must’ve been in a different department and just got transferred to the English center. He deeply intrigued you. You noticed the other girls in the class twirling their hair in a cliché way with the tips of their pens between their teeth. He wore all black, and it was so very different compared to what other professors wore. There was no sweater vest or button up shirt. He just wore a comfortable and soft looking black sweater with black jeans and black boots. His dirty blonde - almost brunette - hair was perfectly styled. He looked devastatingly handsome.

“Hello, my name is Professor Shepherd and I’m going to be your English teacher for the rest of the semester. Professor Winifred recently had her baby during winter break and shall be back for the next semester,” he gave another knee-weakening grin as he clapped his hands together. “Shall we get started?”

[likeshipsonthesea]

hello!!!! i absolutely loved your most recent Nurseydex fic but wanted to let you know/ask for clarification on one thing! I think you might have meant to write Nursey saying "Will," instead of "Dex," here? (tbh i flip between nicknames and real names a lot so I get it if you did ashsheh) but also I might just be reading it wrong bc I'm tired as shit!!! just wanted to let you know in case you wanted to change it! thank you for this amazing fic tho it really did improve my mood so much and I'm glad to see you writing Nurseydex again!!!! (-birkholtzlovebot)

glad you enjoyed the fic!! thanks for making sure i hadn't put in a typo, but i meant to have nursey say dex here. in my hc and understanding of the characters, they don't think of themselves or each other in terms of their "real" names, but in terms of their hockey nicknames. nursey, as demonstrated several times throughout the ficlet, calls dex by a variety of not-actually-dex nicknames, such as dexington and dexy-doodle and on and on, so here he is actually using dex's "real name"

i imagine this progression of nicknames to be Very Important in the context of their developing relationship. like they start off calling each other by full last name, Nurse and Poindexter, and then halfway through frog year nursey realizes he can get even more of a reaction if he calls dex by a variety of horrible nicknames, which works a TREAT until the end of their frog year when (i imagine) they have a Moment after the frozen four game that prompts dex to call nursey Nursey for the first time and nursey starts using Dex as well.

this continues for all of softie year, and then junior year happens, they share a room, things explode, and it's back to Nurse and Poindexter. something something tentative resolution that's enforced when nursey slips and calls dex something ridiculous like "dexy-darling" and dex, after a brief hesitation, informs him that that's his worst one yet and nursey swears to do worse by the end of the day.

yadda yadda more development, yadda yadda working alongside each other as upperclassmen on the team in their senior year, yadda yadda maybe graduate, maybe before graduation, some big Change happens, nursey calls dex Dex again, they kiss, it's a thing, happily ever after (this bit changes with most of my fics, while the rest of my hc mostly remains the same.)

lol sorry for the nickname rambling i just have a Lot of Feelings about it. if you for some reason want more rambling, here is a post from someone else that sums up my nickname feelings, here is some rambling about dex's nickname, here is some rambling about nursey's nickname, and here is some more nurseydex nickname rambling. as you can see, i have many Thoughts. :)

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

totally jealous of and amazed by your creativity and endless wip ideas... so 📓!

Thanks friend!

Okay, so this was fun, I counted my wips (both in-progress and planning)-- there are 38 lkjadslkfja-- and then had the writerbot roll a die and the corresponding number is the wip I'll tell you about! So, the bot picked 7, which is my dyslexicbobby fic currently titled I Should Not Be Writing This because I have. Too many. Projects. As you can all see.

This is a fic in my if things had been different verse and, as usual, inspired by late night conversations with @sunsetcurvecuddles. Basically, Bobby didn't finish high school cause his best friends died the summer before his senior year and he was already 18 so he could drop out without much issue. Except Ray and Rose don't know this because Bobby doesn't want them to know think he's stupid, until he loses his job cause he doesn't have a high school diploma, so they convince him to get his GED. But then studying goes terribly, even though he's so good at memorizing things he's heard, he just has so much trouble reading. And he basically has a breakdown cause he thinks he's worthless, etc, and Ray "Minored in Psychology" Molina sits him down and goes, "Honey, I think you're dyslexic" and gets him help like the good boyfriend he is :)

Snippet under the read more if anyone's interested!

Send me a book emoji and I'll tell you about one of my too many wips!

Bobby knows he’s stupid.

For years, he had people telling him so: his parents, his teachers, the guidance counselor who kindly suggested he redo the first grade as if he had any kind of choice in the matter. He was shit at math and worse at reading, to the point where sometimes he wondered if he ever really learned how. The only thing he was ever any good at was music, and he was okay with that, because as long as he could shred on the guitar and more or less carry a tune, he had a career, and at least three friends, in the bag without having to do much better than the C-pluses he scraped by with at school.

And even those, by the end, were only because Reggie would stay up late with him drilling equations into his head and reading him his English books out loud when trying to read them himself gave Bobby a migraine.

It was a relief already when he turned 18 in March of his junior year and knew that, if the band really did make it big, he could drop out of school without causing much trouble. Even if the guys had another year left, Bobby figured he and Luke could work while Alex and Reggie were in school, and they could all play music together on the weekends, and Bobby wouldn’t feel like so much of a screwup all the time.

There’s no band now, and the guys are gone, and whether or not he’s going to finish high school is the least of Bobby’s worries.

They’ve been doing this...whatever it is they’re doing, him and Ray and Rose, for a few months now. They live together, sleep in the same bed, go on the cheesiest dates when they all have an evening free. As much as Ray and Rose try to insist otherwise, Bobby feels a little like he’s glommed onto their relationship rather than them all dating each other, but he’s not one to complain. He cares about them both a lot, and anything’s better than being alone.

But they don’t know how stupid he is sometimes, because they’ve only known him the last year, only seen him flirting and playing music (and sobbing and screaming and shaking) and now, recently, working fixing cars at this auto shop down the block for fifteen bucks an hour. They’ve never had to see him stare at the same sentence for ten minutes straight, unable to make the words stand still, never had to watch him struggle to do basic math because the numbers keep switching around on the page and in his head.

Sometimes Bobby feels like he’s tricking them, because he’ll remember some fact about birds Ray told him three weeks ago that Ray himself doesn’t even remember reading, or he’ll pull out trivia he learned from hearing the boys talk about music all the time, and Rose will say, “How do you know all that? You’re so smart!” And he’ll say, “I’m really not,” but she won’t believe him.

It’s not a big deal, though. Bobby has no interest in going back to school the fall after he loses his boys, so as long as he’s working a good enough job to pay rent, it doesn’t matter that he’s too stupid to read more than a few words at a time and he can’t spell to save his goddamn life and he never finished high school.

Until one day, his boss corners him on his break and says, “Hey kid, corporate’s getting on my ass about labor laws, I need to see your diploma.”

[frizzlechickenart]

Art Development!

Uhhhhh hi! You guys wanna see some ART? (I haven’t really done anything in a few months so it’s old but hey what can ya do?)

Anyway I wanted to show you guys the progress I’ve made on my first oc (technically she was my childhood imaginary friend) through the years!

Her name is Valenar, and she went from a classic fire dragon to a red dragon specifically when I got my first D&D books! She’s always had a human form though, and most of the time I picture her as a human with wings, horns, and a tail.

(This is kind of a long post so I put the art and stuff under a cut.)

Ok wow… so I did this drawing in like… 5th grade? She’s wearing kind of a weird outfit here because I was trying to invent a sport for her and her friends to play and she obviously needed a uniform.

I know this was super early in my artistic development so I won’t complain about it too much. I will note that this was back when I thought noses were ugly so I didn’t draw them lol.

(also her hands are backwards, that kind of horrifies me now)

Pretty sure I was in 8th grade when I did this one. It’s a big improvement on the first drawing, and I changed some details about her. (Adding an eye scar and giving her two braids.)

I think I made her more beat up and battle-worn in this one because I was trying to write a short story about her where she was a hero warrior for her kingdom, but I didn’t know how to draw scars/injuries back then.

I also gave her this iconic ruby necklace that she still has, but it’s lore has changed 30 times and now I have no clue what it’s for.

Big time jump here, I did this one in junior year of high school. I pretty clearly had a lot more practice by then, and it was paying off. I’m still proud of this one even though it’s a little awkward and the coloring on her wings is scribbley.

I had finally learned to use refs by then, so her wings came out really nice. Her abilities also went from being fire related to being able to control the ground instead. 

Her scar switched eyes, and I finally was confident enough to draw her horns! She’s still got that warrior vibe, but I took down the amount of scars/injuries because I figured even if she’s in human form, dragons still have thick skin. (Also I’m still not very confident drawing that stuff and I wanted to practice more before including it on bigger drawings like this.)

Big finale! I did this one towards the end of senior year, (about 2 years ago) and pretty much just re-did the previous one digitally. I am still amazed by this one, because I don’t think I could do anything similar to it even now. 

Her face became a bit more realistic as I finally found my style. Her hands still look a little awkward, but (if you’ll excuse my narcissism) I really love how her wings turned out!

I also finally learned to sign my artwork, something I still forget to do sometimes lol.

Thanks for checking out my kinda long art development post! I love seeing how other artists progress and looking how I’ve progressed hopefully encourages some new artists out there to sick with it!

And do stick with it guys! It took YEARS to get this far, and I’m still working on improving. I love you all, and thanks for stopping by!

[kirstinmaldonado]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN 2.0

I remember watching Glee. The pilot episode came out the end of my junior year, and then resumed my senior year of high school when I’d already been chosen and named Show Choir Captain (which of course was the biggest triple threat honor and validation one could have as a senior in the arts, right?). ;)

I’ll remember how I felt after the pilot episode forever. A spark lit up inside of me. Of inspiration? Of drive? Of acceptance? 

All three!? It made this little choir nerd feel COOL! I remember being blown away because there was nothing quite like it at the time, representing teens unabashedly following their passions whether it seemed cool or not, right or wrong. To just be! The next morning at school we all chatted about how badass we felt and how we would bring that energy to show choir. How cool it was that such a show came out when we were seniors, in a very “Watch out world, this is OUR year” way!

Little baby Kirstie transferred to Martin High School, with its renowned and arguably top music and theatre program of high schools in that area, for freshman year; which felt simultaneously like a nice clean start and incredibly horrifying. I had a few friends from community theatre but not too many in my grade and not too many that I shared classes with.

I was one of two freshman to make show choir my first year, and while I was excited for such an honor it immediately ostracized me. No one knew who I was or where I had come from, and that made me few friends and a few enemies. Although I wasn’t popular in high school, I don’t think I was unpopular…I ran in the theatre and choir crowd and took all AP classes, even graduating in the top 30 of my almost 1000 person class. 

My amazing mother instilled a strong worth ethic in me, so I valued working hard in school. I loved the schedule, I loved taking notes because I liked looking at my handwriting and cursive, how neat it was. I liked to highlight and color code everything so it was easier and more enticing to look at. I loved immersing myself in studies and extracurriculars which I balanced well, the curriculum only made harder if I skipped studying to hang with friends, which then turned in to grueling all nighters. 

But…sometimes I’d go to first period exhausted (sliding in to my seat right on time or late, you know how I roll) and there would be a Starbucks coffee on my desk from my best friend Will. Or after school when I’d planned to walk home, my friend Jory would give me a ride, but only after we got snow-cones and belted “If Only” from The Little Mermaid musical in the car all the way home.

That’s just two tiny examples of how amazing my friends, how amazing their hearts were. I cherish my time at high school and the people I met there with all my heart!! I feel so fortunate to have spent the BEST times, the worst times, and all the times in between with them. We explored family hardships and disputes, our own sexualities, our fears, our dreams with each other.

My friends were diverse. They were FUN! They inspired me with their work ethic. We all weren’t even pursuing the same thing, and in a way that made all of our uniqueness that much more precious. 

I think that’s how Glee was. A bunch of unique people, all doing their own unique things, then finding each other by sharing a common love and becoming friends.

So senior year show choir, we all became a bunch of Rachel Berrys, Santana Lopezes, Finn Hudsons, you name it. Glee had given us, or at least me, this new sparkly confidence. It reminded me that music was exactly what I loved, and what I wanted to spend my life pursuing.

After I graduated and months flew by, I didn’t watch the show as religiously like I used to. I’d catch a few episodes here and there, ones where the characters development and newfound growth  intrigued me, but my life had taken a turn and I just didn’t have the time anymore.

July 13, 2013. I was at my ex’s brother’s wedding when I heard the news. 

Cory Monteith had died from an overdose.

I’m not sure if I’ve ever cried about a celebrity’s death before then. Although I hadn’t been close to the show anymore, a part of me felt immediately heartbroken. Heartbroken that he’d been alone, heartbroken that he was doing what he was doing in the first place, but had the ability to keep edging deeper and deeper into a point of no return. I had romanticized about a relationship like Rachel and Finn, I had admired his and all the characters hearts and purpose. I had rooted for him. They in a way, felt like my friends, because that’s how I viewed my friends in high school. He was an everlasting part of why and where I was now, because Scott, Mitch, and I formed our trio for a contest to meet the cast of Glee that first season. 

People made fun of me that day. You don’t even know him. Why are you so upset?

I watched The Quarterback and then I couldn’t watch Glee again. Occasionally it came on TV, but it didn’t feel the same to me.

To me, Glee was the first show of its kind, representing and making heroes and stars out of people who would have normally been called losers. I’d never seen representation on screen that made me feel special as a Latina or as someone pursing “not a real career.” As the season progressed it evolved past the cheeky humor and delved in to real-world topics and teenage struggles. 

Seven years later, with Naya Rivera being found the day of Cory’s passing, I couldn’t help but feel like he played a role in guiding her home.

I think Naya was incredibly underrated. The show obviously had its main frontrunners, but Naya’s character transcended the “normal” teen woes of wanting to be a star. Through her sarcasm and wit, she was more complex. She had more to hide. She had more to give.

I loved seeing a Latina woman on the screen, a REAL one, not just an actor with darker features. I loved seeing her delve in to her sexuality with her best friend, and her experiences made my own feel valid. I thought what courage it must take to sit down with your hispanic grandmother, who you love so dearly, and be able to share a part of them that they maybe wouldn’t understand. I was crying from the second that scene started, thinking I’d maybe never have the courage to be that open.

I’ve thought of Naya and her family a lot this week. I’ve seen how many people loved her. While I never met her, I know her and the rest of the cast left a special mark on my life journey, and I will forever be grateful for them, and her.

I will remember show choir practices, in our sparkly, itchy  outfits, preparing for contest.

I will remember sneaking up in to the auditorium catwalk to sneak kisses with my best friend.

I will remember making the silliest videos when we all went to All-State choir.

I will remember belting and dancing on our cars to “Don’t Stop Believing” at the local Starbucks parking lot.

I will remember holding my friends tight crying as we all wore our different college shirts in our final performance as a show choir, having no idea that I was about to go out and be a part of something greater.

Glee brought together a hodgepodge of people. And that’s what Pentatonix was too. And it brought us together.

So I guess at the end of the day, all I want to say is… thank you, to Glee. To Cory. To Naya.

For creating special characters, that lit that special spark.

Rest in peace.