#they are pretty iconic for that I’m still reeling from it

[chirpsythismorning]

I need s5 byler to be filled with all the most iconic queer tv/film parallels. Give us the close-up shot of their hands almost touching between realms, give us one of them confessing their love before they disintegrate, give us every common, overwrought trope, that 99% of the time ends in death, but this time, do it only for the sole purpose of paying homage to all the queer characters/pairings throughout history that never got their happy ending and subvert it. Let byler have their happy ending.

[mysterystarz]

kiss me maybe:

summary: finding a flier for the volleyball's kissing booth was surprising for two reasons. a) kuroo had created one of the worst fliers known to mankind and b) oikawa tooru, the school's resident pretty boy was capitalizing off the rumors surrounding him. still, you couldn't deny your attraction to the setter, and he couldn't hide that you were the only one he wanted to kiss

pairing: oikawa tooru x g!n reader

word count: 12.6k (please give this a chance)

genres + themes: college!au, sort of friends to lovers(?), fluff, angst, kuroo being an occasional menace, iwaizumi being the sexiest friend you can have, kiyoko being an icon, romanticized college experience, oikawa being an idiot but yours

warnings: cursing, a tad suggestive in some parts, absolutely not proofread

a/n: hi there i am back with a long fic. anyways this thing is my lovechild and probs the most fanfic thing ive written. its really just a fluff monster (lol) and i hope you give this a chance <3 also dedicated to @chimielie because her stuff gave me the inspo to write ily lia thank you for being so talented

It was said that Oikawa Tooru’s kisses were mythical. 

Some claimed that one press of lips from the kingly setter was like a hit of a drug, sudden in a way that sent you reeling. 

To some, his kisses tasted like the finest candy, hand served on an ornate dish. 

Most magically, it was claimed that a kiss from Oikawa Tooru could heal even the most broken of hearts. Just one thread through sun bronzed hair could make you forget about the most painful memories. 

And of course, like any celebrity would, he knew about each and every rumor.

Naturally, you reckoned you were bound to see the dreaded flier sooner or later. It sat there still, taped onto the tiny bulletin board outside of the Organic Chemistry I room. It was the worst godawful flier you’d ever seen in your life. In front of you was a myriad of colorful borders, and even more whimsical fonts atop of a cardstock page. It seemed to call out to you with its boldness, as if to say “kiss me” with its scrawling typography. 

Mystic Kissbooth, it read in an infuriatingly ornate font. Come and kiss your woes away (and kiss ours away too – a mutually beneficial fundraiser!) 

“I see you’ve seen our handiwork,” chuckled a voice. You didn’t have to turn around to recognize Kuroo, who simply leaned against the bulletin board in an attempt to catch your expression. 

Not that he would. You weren’t going to give him that luxury. 

“No wonder it’s such shit,” you laughed, gesturing to the list of names at the bottom, “I’m honestly ashamed to even know you.”

“Hey,” he frowned playfully, ruffling your hair as he began his signature large strides. Curse him and his stupidly long legs. “That was heavily inspired by your Canva templates…..you know….the bad ones.” 

You let out a long and dragged out sigh while you followed your best friend (unfortunately) to one of the secluded benches on campus. Beneath the hustle and bustle of students as they sprinted to class, it was almost peaceful to rest your legs for just a moment. 

Relaxing onto the bench, you placed your backpack at your side, creating a wedge between you and Kuroo, who’d taken the seat right next to you. He didn’t seem to mind, simply casting a grin in your direction. 

For starters, you weren’t sure how to feel about the Canva invasion. Yes, it was a design platform, and yes, you’d tried (and failed sometimes) to create infographics whenever Kuroo needed a helping hand. It was just a tad surprising to discover that Kuroo had drawn his inspiration from your least successful works. 

“What’s this whole thing about?” You decided on asking after a lengthy pause. Kuroo cast his gaze to meet your own, his grin almost glued into place. 

“Well, not that we’re in any trouble, but the volleyball club could use some funds. We’ve been trying to set up some pretty competitive matches and practice games, but we need the fuel to do it. Oikawa thought this was a great way to make use of all the attention we have.”

“No wonder. He’s probably the most popular one on the team….though Iwaizumi is honestly the one to be looking at.” 

“Rude,” Kuroo huffed, “There’s a lot of other people to be interested in, you know.”

“Hopefully you don’t mean yourself,” you chuckled, dodging a playful hit on the arm from Kuroo. “But in all seriousness, a kissing booth?” Kuroo paused for a moment, seemingly mulling over a proper response, when Iwaizumi entered your frame of vision. 

There were times you wondered why Iwaizumi Hajime didn’t consider a career in modeling. From where he stood, the sunlight almost seemed to caress his skin, tanned and sun bronzed from a summer spent playing volleyball on the beach. Upon seeing you and Kuroo on the bench, he extended a quick wave before jogging over, arms flexing as he got closer. 

“Stop ogling him,” Kuroo smirked, “You could stand to be a bit less obvious.” “Shut up,” you muttered just as Iwaizumi ended his jog to stand in front of you. 

“Nice to see you here,” he beamed, his eyes meeting your own, “I barely see you around these days. Did Kuroo scare you away from the club?” “No not at all,” you smiled, moving your backpack to make space for the handsome spiker. Some of the students on the nearby path stopped to turn at the three of you, and Iwaizumi, none-the-wiser, took a swig from his water bottle. 

He was never aware of the effect he had on people. That was exactly what contributed to his charm. 

“Y/N wanted to know a bit more about the booth,” Kuroo started. “I think you’d explain it better than I could.” 

Iwaizumi raised a brow, “It’s just a club fundraiser. I mean, it's the only decent idea that Oikawa’s had in a while.”

“So he really was involved, huh.” You said (more to yourself than anyone else). The two men looked at you confusedly, before Kuroo finally spoke. 

“You know, you always seem to get a bit fidgety whenever someone mentions Oikawa. And you always try to be away from him when you come to our practices…were the two of you involved or something? Because if you were, I am honestly offended you didn’t tell me.” 

You aggressively shook your head no, warranting a chuckle from Iwaizumi. “Well, if they were, I think it’s had an impact. You start to see him for who he really is.” 

The three of you laughed, choosing to enjoy the fresh breeze. 

However, even despite the simple beauty of this moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about the booth.

Oikawa stood at the front of the lecture hall, spinning his pen while meeting the eyes of his teammates. At his side was Kuroo’s flier, whimsically colorful in all the ways a magical kissing booth (like this one) was supposed to be. Iwaizumi sat in the front, close enough for Oikawa to catch the teasingly judgy stares of his best friend while he waited for everyone to settle down. 

Finding a free lecture hall had been no problem. All he’d had to do is smile nicely at a few eager students, verify with a few professors, and send a frantic “MEET NOW” to the club group chat. 

The real problem was convincing the rest of the team of this idea in the first place. 

“Hey guys,” he beamed, putting the flier down on the desk closest to him, “Thanks for showing up on such short notice. You guys are the best.” 

“We didn’t come for you,” Makki snickered. “We’re just here to see what crazy justification you have for this.” “Well,” he began, “We’ve been in the spotlight for quite some time now. A lot of us have been featured in the campus newspaper, we’ve made it onto our university’s podcast, and have you even seen the instagram fanpages for us? They’re absolutely insane. So, what better time to take advantage of this?” 

“And this has nothing to do at all with the rumors?” A voice asked. Oikawa turned to meet the eyes of Semi Eita, who sat on the left corner closest to the door. 

The team laughed as Oikawa shook his head in faux denial. “Absolutely not. Why would I ever do such a thing?” 

“Because you're smart!” Oikawa was almost surprised to hear the remark from Bokuto, who sat near Kuroo with his own flier. “And it’s a lot of fun.” 

The team murmured their respective agreements before the room fell silent again. Oikawa, ever the opportunist, slid into the silence with an explanation. 

“I was thinking we set it up as sort of a de-stress day after midterms. We could get the other clubs to join in their own mini fundraisers…like a carnival of sorts. We’ll set up the booth with colorful signs and posters, and we kiss based on the cash. We can take shifts to make sure the two of us aren’t running the whole show. All proceeds are for our matches and practice games. Sounds good?” “A question. Are you going to make people line up to kiss you?” Matsukawa asked casually. 

“You mean us Mattsun. And yeah, a line works just fine.” Oikawa stopped for a moment to admire the unanimous cooperation of his team. “I’ll talk to the other club leaders and see if we can come up with a date. If that’s all the questions you’ve got, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow!” 

With this, his team filed out the door. He caught Kuroo animatedly discussing a design to attract customers to their booth with Bokuto, mentioning that he had a friend who’d know just what to do about it. In the midst of his rant, he’d mentioned a name. 

Yours. A name he hadn’t realized he missed hearing. 

A faint smile crept onto his face at the thought.

Kuroo was a menace. From the minute he’d found you at the library, he’d been nagging you the entire day, practically begging for you to come to their practice. 

“Y/N please,” he whined, attempting his own version of a pout, “If you see us, you could help design the poster to attract customers.” “I don’t think you need help with that.” That much was true. Especially with Oikawa headlining the event. They were guaranteed strong profits. 

Somehow in the midst of all this pleading, you’d ended up right outside the gym. The sounds of volleyballs hitting the wooden floors resonated off the walls, the sound so clear that you could hear it from your spot near the door. 

“You planned this,” you glared, watching Kuroo’s smile twist into one of faux innocence. Bastard.  

“What can I say? I am the master of distraction.” He opened the door, swapping his shoes out at the front and walking into the gym to the greetings of his team. You followed closely behind him, carefully striding across the polished wood and shutting the door behind you. 

The gym had always been grand. Your university’s colors were plastered onto the bleachers, with a wide curtain separating the different sides of the gym. There was space – so much of it – and the team spread out to practice various skills. 

For a brief moment, you allowed yourself the childish awe of standing in a space so big. 

“I forgot how long it’s been since you’ve been here,” a voice greeted, “But it’s good to see you Y/N.” You knew that voice. You’d know that voice like the moon knew the stars. You’d know it anywhere. 

“Oikawa,” you said, turning to acknowledge the brown-haired setter. “Long time no see.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you drank him in. He seemed to be in high spirits this afternoon, hair artfully tousled in the way he always did, and lips so perfectly smooth that they seemed out of a Chapstick ad. 

“You don’t really come around anymore,” He said, taking to walking with you around the gym (much to your own surprise). “I was getting a bit worried actually.” 

“What do you mean?” You stared at a spot a bit beyond the setter, watching Bokuto’s cross court spike slam into the floor with dizzying speed. 

“Well….we talked a bunch. And you came here at the beginning of the year. You suddenly stopped though….so I wondered if something happened.” 

“You noticed?” You scoffed. “I’m surprised you paid attention.” 

“Why wouldn’t I pay attention?” Oikawa raised a brow in confusion before suddenly, the answer seemed to smack him in the face. “You’re petty about that?”

“You barely paid me any mind,” was all you said, meeting Oikawa’s warm gaze, “It was like we’d never met at all.”

You’d met Oikawa Tooru on the flight to university. You’d waved your family goodbye at the gate, hugging them tight to your chest and memorizing the feel of them against you. 

You walked steadily, pulling your suitcase along as you made your way to the security check in. 

“Everything goes in a bag! Belts, shoes, phones! Take off your shoes and step aside. Laptops can stay in your bags! Move along!” 

You hauled your suitcase into the bin, placed your phone and wallet beside it and sent it over to the TSA associate, taking a minute to place your jacket and shoes into another bin and sending that over too. 

The gray bins were plain, old and rackety and classic, comparable to a washed out 1930’s movie. You trodded through the metal detector, feeling the cold floor through your socks. 

When you finally made it through check in, you were met with a TSA associate over your bag, looking straight at you as if you’d committed some heinous crime. 

“Excuse me,” the TSA officer asked, gesturing to your bags, “Are these your bags?” 

“Yes,” you affirmed, almost nervously. “Is there an issue?” 

“You seem to have some liquid above the restricted amount. I’m going to have to take a look.” 

For a moment, you were startled. What did you even bring? You’d diligently packed your belongings and made sure everything was secure….surely there had to be some mistake. 

Your breath wavered the minute the officer pulled out your favorite body wash. 

In the midst of your packing, you’d forgotten you’d slipped it into your carry on. 

“Oh.” Your voice shook as you meant the TSA officer’s eyes, “I’m sorry. That’s my favorite one.” 

“I’m sorry.” For a moment, it almost seemed like the man had sympathy for you, “But I’m going to have to ask you to pour half of it out. If you refuse that, you’re going to have to give it away.” 

Every step towards the outside garbage felt like a punch to the chest. While you kept composed on the outside, pouring away half of your prized wash felt miserable. 

A dying rose. A dying star. Something dying slowly and surely inside. 

Now you’d have to get another one. Brand new packaging lost to your honest mistake. 

This sucked ass. 

You meandered through the security area again, more ghost than person and collected the rest of your belongings. While your voice wavered, you didn’t shed a tear, and simply walked along. 

Somehow, in the midst of all your wandering,  you ended up in the departure lounge. In front of you were an array of connected seats with their generic cushioning and the customary TV screens telling you what flight was taking off when. 

The glass paneled windows to your right showcased the hangar, and from your spot, you could see planes parked out in front. The sun set down in the distance, leaving a watercolor blend of pinks and oranges in its wake. 

You could almost call it picturesque. 

You leaned your suitcase against a wall for a moment, scanning the lounge for an available corner. Unfortunately, your plane was packed. 

The chatter of students was overwhelming, and without a choice, you settled into a seat at the far corner of the lounge next to a pretty-boy who you were certain wouldn't speak to you. 

They normally never did. Why should it be any different now? And honestly, you didn’t want to talk. 

“This plane is probably fully booked.” A voice (the perfect blend of warm and deep) said. You turned to meet the eyes of said pretty boy, a surprisingly lovely shade of brown. Light and bright and inviting. Almost like a mocha. Or a latte. 

“Tell me about it,” you laughed, slightly amused by the novelty of the situation. It wasn’t common for pretty boys to talk to you. Even less common for you to entertain any conversation, especially when you felt the way you did.  “When I waved ‘goodbye’ to my family, I wasn’t expecting this much of a crowd to tell them about.” 

“Yeah?” Oikawa smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting upwards invitingly. “I was more surprised at the lack of seats.” 

“You’d think they’d anticipate a college student stampede.” 

Oikawa laughed, the amusement lighting up his whole face. It was a simple laugh — chiming and lovely in the way that all laughs were, but you were certain you’d do anything to hear that again. 

His presence had a way of putting you at ease. 

The two of you coincidentally had seats right next to each other on the flight. As the plane lifted off, you snapped a picture of the city lights, twinkling their tiny goodbyes as they faded from view.

The cabin’s lights were dimmed, yet even in the haziness, you could make out the features of the boy next to you. 

High cheekbones. A defined cupid’s bow. Lips that seemed even softer than the lather of that soap you loved so much. 

You’d mourn your soap later. Even if it was an object, your attachment to it simply showed a care for your belongings. 

What could be more human than that? 

Oikawa turned to you, gaze friendly as the plane began its mounting ascent. 

“You know, the TSA can be real dicks sometimes.” 

What the fuck. Who was he? A psychic?

“What did they do to you?”

“They made me pour out half my expensive hair gel. I insisted it fit the requirements but they refused to accommodate me. So mean.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the pout he wore. It seemed even someone as vivacious as Oikawa couldn’t charm himself out of aviation regulations. 

Somehow the whole thing made you feel a lot better. 

You and Oikawa (Tooru as he later insisted) shared many conversations throughout the flight. Some revolved around human existentialism (with him quoting the “we were infinite” from The Perks of Being a Wallflower). Some revolved around space. 

Some even revolved around clubs, with him sharing high school volleyball stories and pledging your university’s team to greatness. 

When fatigue finally claimed you, the comfort of his shoulder was unmatched by anything you’d ever felt. He’d extended an invite for you to come and see them practice anytime, and laid his own head atop of yours. 

Of course, when you showed up for said practice, so had a bunch of other fans. He’d barely spared you a glance, let alone spoke to you when you’d tried to seek him out. 

A grand gym and an even grander boy. 

You just avoided him after that.

“Im really sorry about that,” Oikawa said. While his expressions were genuine, you weren’t sure how much you were going to trust it. Certainly, in all the time you’d spent apart, he must have changed at least a bit. 

To think he was the exact same boy who you met on the plane would be foolish.

“Yeah, water under the bridge.” 

“No, not really.” Oikawa paused to study your expression. Beneath all of your nonchalance was something fragile. Admiration? Loathing? He doubted it. “How long did you plan on avoiding me?”

“As long as I needed to.” You answered matter-of-factly. “Then again, that was when I thought you’d forgotten about me.” 

“How could I ever do that?” Oikawa’s expression morphed into a worried one, eyebrows knitted together and mouth downturned as if to say damn that’s an accusation. 

“Well-“

“Look I meant to seek you out after that day. I saw you there, wanted to come over, but at that point you’d gone off to continue chatting with Kuroo and met Iwa. And classes exist.”

“Okay. Water under the bridge for real.” 

His eyes lit up. “You mean it?” 

You nodded in approval, only to be dragged away by Kuroo, who’d suddenly appeared behind you. 

“What the fuck?” You yelled, not caring much for your use of profanities. Some of the nearby team members snickered as you were pulled to the corner of the gym, in front of an array of poster boards. 

“What?” Kuroo asked, “You and Oikawa seem to be fine now, so I thought I could ask you some questions about stuff that really matters. Namely posters.” 

You were met with various shapes and sizes of poster boards. Some were Elmers Tri-Folds. Some were the cheap foam boards you sometimes saw while grocery shopping. 

“If you want a design for your freaking booth,” you began, looking at Kuroo, “Give me some time.”

Oikawa was in the podcast studio. The room was secluded, plastered with posters and heart decals of all shapes and colors. Right beside the door was a framed picture of the volleyball team, with their silly faces frozen in motion. 

Shimizu Kiyoko walked out from behind the desk, nonchalantly acknowledging Oikawa with a nod. “Oikawa, what can I do for you?” 

“Hey,” he winked, unaffected by her lack of reaction, “Have any idea where I can find your host. I’d like her to do me a favor.”

“Advertising.” Kiyoko said bluntly. “I don’t think your booth needs any more attention. Our socials have covered it already.” 

“We always love the extra coverage.” 

“Doesn’t your friend help with all the designs? I think they’d be the perfect candidate to help with all this.”

“Y/N?” He asked, almost dumbfounded by how obvious that answer was. 

“Yes,” Kiyoko smiled. “They’re very nice. I’ve seen you talk a few times, though it honestly seems like they don’t like you very much.” 

“Not true.” He huffed. 

“Well it makes sense. Especially if the rumors are true.” 

People saw Kiyoko’s beauty and shyness and mistook her for a soft and innocent podcast manager. 

Anyone who’d dealt with her enough knew she was actually a force to be reckoned with. 

“The rumors are whatever you make of them. I’m simply an opportunist.” 

Kiyoko chuckled and for a moment, Oikawa felt accomplished. “You don’t need to tell me this. I already know.” 

He leaned against the door, and stretched out his arms in front of him before resting them at his sides again. “Would you at least consider telling the main host to help us out?” 

Kiyoko shuffled the papers in her hands, before meeting his eyes. “I won’t give any guarantees, but something tells me that if you do set up a de-stress carnival, your club will be the central focus of our broadcast.” 

“Thank you!” He beamed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. “I could kiss you for that.”

“No thank you,” Kiyoko declined, “I’m not interested in confirming the rumors.” 

As Oikawa left the studio, Kiyoko walked into the recording room, a tiny smile on her lips.

Your Canva page lay woefully blank before you.

You’d promised Kuroo a design if he gave you time and Kuroo, ever the considerate friend, actually stopped bothering you about the poster. He seemed to trust in Oikawa’s judgment, and it seemed that the rest of the volleyball club did too. 

As a token of thanks, you’d come to the library, your brain and Pinterest providing you at least a vague idea of what it was you wanted to do. However, when it came time to put pen to paper (or more fittingly, hand to mousepad), it seemed that your ideas had been wiped clean. 

Your disappointment felt like a leaky faucet. Despite the minuteness of the feeling, it seemed to pool the more you thought about the situation. While designing was never an obligation, you owed it to your friends. 

You sighed, placing your bag onto the hardwood library table and casting your eyes outside. A slowly setting sun was what greeted you, a medley of pinks and oranges appearing onto a slowly disappearing blue sky. 

How cliche. Considering one's disappointments next to a sunset. 

“Y/N?” A voice called, almost saccharine in the silence of your surroundings. 

And there he was. Draped in the setting sun like a painted figure, cloaked in a veil of sunlight that skimmed his skin like silk. Oikawa’s eyes were almost honey colored in that lighting, and beneath the darkened shelves, he was almost a mystical apparition. 

“Oikawa,” was all you said, cursing every possible force for him appearing now, looking like that, when you barely had anything to show for it. 

“Kuroo told me you’d offered to help us put together some signs for the de-stress carnival.” Oikawa walked over, stepping away from the sunlight and placing his bag down at your table, opting for a seat across from you. “Which, in case you were wondering, I got approval for. A lot of the other clubs are going to be there.” 

“That’s good.” You allowed yourself a glance at him. Your pettiness had all but dissipated, but you were still wary of looking at him for too long. He was like the sun, golden and lustrous and magnetic. You weren’t quite ready to be pulled into his orbit. 

“So,” Oikawa said, taking a glance at your computer screen, “Rough designing?” 

“Yeah. Inspiration has been hard to find and your club is counting on me.” 

“If it means anything to you, we wouldn’t have asked for you to do it if we didn’t believe in you.” You looked up to see Oikawa’s gaze set firmly on your own, as if tracking your expressions. Under his stare, you felt raw. Vulnerable. If you were a cake, and he was cutting you open. 

You weren’t sure what to say. 

A beat of silence permeated the space between you, and the two of you made no effort to stop it. It was somewhat comforting. Unsaid words of yours were understood by him.

“It feels like a lot of pressure,” you finally admitted, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I want it to be worth your while.” 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Oikawa was closer. His breath was soft, fanning over the side of your cheek like a secret. 

“I’m not sure.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper. 

Oikawa paused for a moment, as if contemplating something before decisively placing his hand on top of yours.

For a moment, you were startled by the warmth of his palm, grounding you in some way that didn’t quite make sense to you yet. Something about this was intimate in all the ways it shouldn’t be. Amidst a darkening sky and a slowly dimming library, you could almost consider this clandestine. 

You waited for the rustle of a book’s pages or the resounding footsteps of the librarian to break down the moment, but they never came.  

Oikawa looked at you, seemingly memorizing your features. He said nothing, but a slight smile appeared on his face the second he spotted a stray lock of hair by your ear. You could feel your face progressively heating with every moment spent in this proximity. 

Damn celebrity setters. Damn stupid stupid beautiful men who do this. Damn that Oikawa Tooru. 

Gently, as if touching something fragile, Oikawa smoothed down your hair, brushing the tip of your ear with his fingertips. He held your gaze fondly before suddenly, making an incredulous face. 

“What the-“ He said, looking at your hair again. “It’s back up again.” He looked at his hands in horror, as if their magic didn’t work. “Damn it, that’s not how that goes.” 

You couldn’t stop the laughter from erupting out of you at his antics, You swiftly flattened that pesky strand and looked back at him, feeling the amusement pool in your chest at his dismayed expression. 

“Sorry man,” you laughed, syllables coming out breathless, “Sometimes stuff doesn’t go to plan.” 

Oikawa seemed like he wanted to melt into the floor, and feeling the need for some fresh air, you dragged him out of the library. Upon leaving the double doors (and air conditioning), you were met by the lit sidewalk and found the wooden benches by the line of trees. 

You sat down, gesturing for him to join you. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before,” Oikawa mentioned off-handedly, “I mean I’m here a lot, but I’m not sure when this was put here.” 

“It’s been here…?” 

Oikawa sighed, tilting his gaze to the now dark sky. “You do have an eye for good things.” 

You raised a brow. “What does that even mean?” 

“The stuff you make is adorable. And Kuroo’s always said that everywhere he brings us are all places you found.” 

“Really?” You leaned your upper body onto the bench. “I didn’t expect credit from him.” 

“He cares about you,” Oikawa said. “He gave a lot of shit when he realized that we’d talked on our plane and then not again. But I deserved that.” 

“I was petty. But it’s not like I can actually walk up to you.” 

“What?” Oikawa seemed puzzled, as if this was something impossible for him to fathom. “Why not? I don’t think I’m that bad.” 

“Iwaizumi says otherwise.” 

“Mean. But seriously, why?” 

You’d forgotten how refreshing Oikawa was. Even though you were sitting on a bench, you felt practically weightless. 

“Rumors,” was all you said, gesturing to him. 

Understanding seemed to flash into his eyes, and slowly, like connecting pieces of a puzzle, it all fell into place. He paused for a moment before meeting your eyes with a grin. 

“You know they’re just rumors right?” He smirked, “I went to a party a while back to kick off club season. There was this one girl who really wasn’t leaving me alone, so I ended up leaving. Turns out she’d told her friends that she and I made out at the party and gave me a whole lot more credit than I was expecting. Not that I mind making out, but I’m picky.” 

“Picky how?” You asked, words leaving your mouth before you even had the chance to think them over. 

“Picky as in there’s really only one person I’ve even wanted to kiss since I got here but haven’t got the chance to. I’m hoping they come to the booth. Just so I’ll get to know what that’s like.” 

You felt a subtle twist of something in your chest, though you weren’t sure what to make of it. Of course he had his eye on somebody. It was bound to happen eventually. 

“Why are you making a booth to do mass kissing then?” A valid follow up question. A guy like him could successfully pull whenever he wanted to. 

“Because I’m an opportunist,” he sighed, “And I’m not even sure if I can make a move properly. I don’t function like I normally do when they’re around.” 

“Of course you can. Anybody would say yes to you, Tooru.” 

With this, something in him seemed to snap and he immediately pulled you closer, your faces just an inch apart. His hands were firm around your waist, and the sensation was nearly searing. You could feel everything, from his hands to his breath to even the way his eyes seemed to scan your face. 

The way he looked at you now was like worship. 

“What are you doing?” You whispered shakily. With him all around you you could barely breathe, let alone think. 

“Making a move.” His eyes were on your lips. His hand gently left your waist to skim your arm before placing a hand on your cheek. “May I?” 

Your nod was nearly imperceptible before he captured your lips in yours. 

Soft, was your first thought as you felt his lips brush yours ever so lightly. You leaned into him, relishing the vaguely sweet taste of strawberry Chapstick on his lips as you swiped your tongue over his lips. 

Oikawa Tooru was a mystic. His fingers tangled in your hair and his lips searched for yours as if he was a lost man and you were his savior. He traced the curve of your waist and kissed you passionately, nibbling your lips when you pulled at his shirt. 

You could kiss him forever. You moved to nip at the tip of his ear, and his shaky breath had you considering if you should bite down harder. He pulled you back in and you melted into the feel of his lips and hands and the way his touch seemed to awaken something inside you. 

The way he held you was reverent. 

When you finally split for air, Oikawa held you close, his smile never wavering. He rubbed a thumb across your cheek, and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

“That was magical,” you murmured into his shirt, and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit happy to hear the laugh you liked so much. 

You reckoned you’d be able to put together a solid design after tonight.

Oikawa had a skip in his step the following morning. He’d aced every assessment, finished all his homework, and made major breakthroughs at practice. His sets to Bokuto were so flawless that Bokuto could hardly believe he’d made those shots. 

Everyone on the volleyball team was certain that something had happened, but Oikawa refused to let up. 

He didn’t kiss and tell after all. 

“What is up with you?” Iwaizumi asked good-naturedly, tipping back a water bottle. “You’ve been in a surprisingly good mood all morning.” 

“It’s been a good day,” Oikawa smiled, offering no other details while picking up a few stray balls on the court. The gym floor seemed exceptionally shiny today. He’d be sure to thank whoever waxed the floor for their services when he could. 

“Something definitely happened.” Kuroo chimed in, scrutinizing Oikawa like he was something under a microscope. “The question is what.” 

“Am I not allowed to have good days?” 

“No you are,” Kuroo smirked, “But a day this good only happens after a sudden surge in popularity which —last time I checked— didn’t happen, or……did you make some breakthrough?” 

“With my sets, yes.” 

“No,” Kuroo smiled knowingly. “I’m gonna curse them out for not telling me anything.” 

Oikawa hid his surprise with a flash of indifference, though internally he cursed the middle blocker. It seemed that he was just as good at reading people as he was at read blocking. 

Iwaizumi caught on almost immediately, casting his eyes to his longtime friend, who all of a sudden, was acting like a deer in headlights. He found it odd that the nature of your relationship with Oikawa had transformed seemingly overnight. 

It seemed that you never truly harbored any resentment against him. 

Still, he resolved to approach you about it as soon as he could. 

The minute that you walked through the gym’s double doors, the entire team thought that they’d summoned you with all the prying they were doing. You hauled something large through the door and placed it against the wall, proud of yourself for the herculean effort it took to bring it through. 

The minute he registered your presence, Oikawa’s face looked like a puff of cotton candy. His cheeks were rosy with all the teasing and the memories of last night, and when he saw what it was that you’d leaned against the wall, he thought he should run over and kiss you out of pride. 

“Good morning guys,” you beamed, a smile so radiant that Oikawa had suddenly lost all the focus he’d had all morning. 

“Morning Y/N,” Iwaizumi greeted, walking over to greet you with a hug and a slight gesture to the object that was now leaning against the wall. “Is this it?” 

You nodded excitedly. “I got the inspiration to put it together last night. I think it captures the magic of the booth.” 

Iwaizumi leaned to flip over the posterboard and decided that he’d never seen anything more fitting in his entire life. 

The sign was a pastel wonder, a pale blue at the bottom and moving to a light pink at the top. Across the poster were small and light volleyballs, somewhat transparent against the background as if the pattern was a part of it. The borders of the poster were filled with various lip prints (and even funnier, some hidden Chapsticks).

The font at the center was a far cry from the scrawling archaic font that Kuroo had used on their initial flyers. It was a simple block font, a shade of pink with a glow filter and a pattern that made it look like a light-up sign on the part that really mattered.

The Volleyball Club presents, the poster read, written in a smaller font. Right below that, the light up letters spelled out The Mystic Kissbooth. Help kiss us to greatness. 

The team crowded around the board, marveling at both its quality and its thoughtfulness. 

“Y/N….” Bokuto trailed off, his eyes nearly bursting with amazement, “This is crazy!” 

“Yeah,” Semi added, “This is ridiculously good. Kuroo, where the hell have you been keeping them.” 

Kuroo simply crossed his arms and smiled with pride. He’d always believed in you. 

Oikawa stood shell-shocked at your work, feeling all the days of preparation finally coming together. He looked at you and smiled a smile so genuine, you were glad you’d finally pulled through. 

You looked to the floor bashfully for a moment before meeting the team’s eyes with renewed confidence. “Thank you. I’m glad to help.” 

Iwaizumi stood at your side, smiling fondly at you before turning his gaze to Oikawa. “Hey. Oikawa. What is the deal with the de-stress carnival? When is it, where is it, and where are we setting up?” 

Oikawa, still elated, looked around the gym at the team. “If you want details, I think we should call another meeting.” 

”That is a great idea,” you chimed in. 

“Wanna join?” Oikawa asked (hopefully). 

”I’m sorry, I don’t think I can. I’ve got a date with Kiyoko.” 

The team went silent. “You have a what?!”

The evening hues only made Kiyoko more beautiful. She was dressed casually, wearing classic blue jeans, a tank top, and a cardigan that only accentuated her figure. When she saw you approaching her, a smile appeared on her face instantaneously. 

“Y/N!” She greeted, “It’s good to see you.” 

You jogged up to her and pulled her into a friendly hug. “It’s good to see you too!”

You and Kiyoko fell into step naturally, opting to have dinner at one of your favorite places outside of campus. It was a quick walk from where you’d chosen to meet up, and in such good weather, it was a crime not to spend more time together. 

“I have a lot to tell you about,” Kiyoko began, “Starting with Oikawa Tooru. He showed up in my room and asked for the host. He’s got to know it’s me right?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I know you use a modulator to stay under wraps so people take the podcast seriously, but he’s had a very good track record for being perceptive.” 

“That’s a pain” she sighed, “I hope he’s not going to spread it around.” 

“He won’t,” you assured her, “Oikawa can understand rumors better than anyone.” 

Kiyoko smiled relievedly, though she raised a brow at the mention of rumors. “Are those true?” 

You fought the heat that seemed to emerge onto your face the minute she mentioned that. You just hoped it would go unnoticed by her. 

Her blue eyes, unfortunately, were just as perceptive as they were pretty. 

She smirked, crossing her arms and stopping on the sidewalk path. “When did that happen?” 

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep walking.” You wish your voice had come out more strongly than a murmur. 

“When?” 

“Last night.” Damn Kiyoko for getting answers out of you. 

“And…?” She raised her brows expectantly. 

“Rumors are baseless but I confirm them. He is magical.” 

“I ought to say something about that,” she giggled, and you wanted to bury yourself into your hands to avoid her teasing. 

“Shush.” 

The two of you had a lovely dinner and opted to grab a quick drink from the speciality beverage store next door. Kiyoko grabbed a strawberry milkshake and you opted for a tropical fruit floater that they’d just created. Thanks to Kiyoko, both drinks were on the house. 

She nursed the straw between her lips and took a drag of her milkshake before meeting your eyes. “I have some information on the de-stress carnival.” 

You urged her to continue, and Kiyoko did. 

“Looks like Oikawa and the other members of clubs decided to officially name it the Cool Down Carnival. They’re just going to refer to it as Cool Down for ease. They’re planning to organize it the Saturday after midterms and they’ve been working on concessions like cotton candy, caramel apples, popcorn, and a whole boatload of stuff. Administration is also totally fine with this.” 

“Wow,” was all you could say as a response. You were honestly impressed with Oikawa. He put so much thought and care into a silly rumor that had transformed into one of the school’s biggest upcoming events. He was an alchemist of opportunities, taking a rumor of lead and transforming it to gold. 

“Yeah,” Kiyoko nodded, “I’ll get social media to cover it for me. So far, nobody doubts that I’m the manager of the ‘Cast, so it should be fairly reasonable for me to do.” 

“Out of curiosity, do you know anything about how they’re planning to do the shifts of the booth?” 

“All I know for certain is that Oikawa said he probably wasn’t gonna do a headlining shift…or a shift at all. A lot of the other members were perfectly fine with taking this on, but there has been some backlash.” 

He was planning on not headlining the booth?

Your heart was suddenly very warm and fuzzy in your chest. 

Kiyoko knowingly smiled at you before tipping at the front register and dragging you outside. The breeze was oddly pleasant, something a bit uncommon for this time of year. It was approaching colder weather, but it felt nearly spring-like. 

“The weather isn’t making sense,” you said, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with nighttime out. 

“It hasn’t been making sense,” Kiyoko smiled, “We’re anticipating a fresh fair.” 

Springs and falls blended together. You found a beautiful leaf on the sidewalk and pressed it to your palm, preserving the feel and look in your memory. 

“I’m looking forward to it,” you’d finally tell Kiyoko as you parted ways, meaning each and every word.

When Oikawa had showed up at your doorstep in the morning, your sleep-addled brain could barely fathom the reason as to why he would do such a thing. 

That was, until he walked into your room carrying breakfast in a brown bag. 

“Good morning Y/N.” He said, voice still slightly raspy from a good night of sleep. (You weren’t going to forget how that sounded forever). 

You greeted him with a morning greeting of your own and sat on your bed, stretching your limbs and analyzing the boy who—at this present moment—seemed like the happiest guy on earth. 

“Feel free to help yourself,” Oikawa grinned, grabbing a bagel and a pack of cream cheese from the bag. “I have some updates for you.” 

“Does it have to do with the Cool Down?” You walked over to the bag and grabbed something you liked from the inside. 

“Wow. How did you know about the name?” 

“I have my sources,” you winked. 

Oikawa simply laughed. “I know it’s Kiyoko dumbass. She’s one of the sneakiest podcast hosts of all time.” 

“So you do know.” 

“Obviously.” Oikawa lounged on the chair in your corner. “Nobody else is ever working in that office. She should get some people to join her.” 

You nodded and shifted to sit next to him on the couch. His warmth was a surprisingly pleasant addition into the morning, and you found yourself leaning into him. He didn’t make any move to stop it, opting to pull you in and place his arm over you. 

“We have classes soon,” you said groggily, “But I don’t want to move.” 

“We don’t have to right now.” 

“Thanks Tooru.” 

“Of course, Y/N.” He smiled. “Though we do have an afternoon meeting on how to divide the shifts. I’m not sure what we’re going to be doing about me.” 

You suddenly felt a lot more awake. You shifted your weight onto your unsupported arm and looked up at Oikawa. “Are you planning to take a shift?” 

Oikawa shifted nervously in his seat. “I’m not sure. I may have to for the sake of demand. Everyone is expecting me to live up to the expectation. I think we would be less successful without my involvement.” 

You felt a twist of something. Not jealously, but not comfort either. Something between the two. You rose away from Oikawa, walking over to the opposite side of the room where your bed was and met his eyes. 

“Do you really have to?” you asked, feeling partially unfair. There was nothing official between the two of you at the moment, but you’d thought after the kiss two nights ago…..you thought you had a chance. 

“I might,” he gulped, “But you know you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss.” 

You sighed exasperatedly. “I know that you came up with this as a business opportunity and because you thought we’d never…get anywhere, but a long shift is going to be a lot of people.” 

“I know,” he sighed, meeting your eyes with an expression in his own that looked a lot like sadness. “But the fundraiser might just have to come first for now— no that’s not what I—“ 

“Please leave,” you said, voice wavering a bit, “I don’t want to deal with the whole priorities thing right now. We can say we kissed once for fun. Headline it if you must. Later Oikawa.” 

You turned away from him and walked towards your closet to find appropriate clothes for the day. You couldn’t even stand to look at him right now. Things would become too complicated for you to handle. 

“Y/N, I’m really sorry.” Oikawa said from behind you, “That is genuinely not what I meant.” 

You turned to face him again, not even able to meet his eyes. “There’s got to be some semblance of truth in what you said earlier. You love your team Oikawa. They are important. I don’t expect you to throw away opportunities for me. We’re not even dating.” You laughed dryly. “I’d like a bit of space. We can talk a bit later.” 

Oikawa seemed like he had a lot more to say, but he wordlessly slipped out of the door, leaving your room noticeably empty. 

Once he’d left for certain, you collapsed onto the floor and let loose the dam of tears you’d held in for so long.

When Iwaizumi found you in the library, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Your eyes were reddened ever so slightly, covered over by a splash of cold water to the face (most likely), and your usual cheerfulness when you greeted him was a lot less lively. 

He took the seat beside you, surprised by your lack of response. 

”Hajime,” you said softly, turning over to smile sadly at him, “Good to see you here.” 

Correction: something was horrifically wrong. 

“What happened?” He asked softly, wondering what was enough to dampen your normally resilient spirit.  

“Fucking Oikawa,” you laughed sarcastically, “Look at me saying I’d never get caught up in his web, and then doing exactly that.” 

Iwaizumi wrinkled his brow. That day on the bench, he’d known enough to discern that you and Oikawa had some sort of history. That much continued to be made obvious by Oikawa’s constant urge to see you and include you in everything that he and Kuroo didn’t think was important enough to invite you to. 

However, he wasn’t sure when you and Oikawa became more than a past set of acquaintances….and that stung a little. He understood your reasoning though. Especially if it was as complicated as you seemed to feel at the moment. 

“Were you guys dating?”

“No.” You turned to face him in full, and he was struck by the magnitude of just how magnetic you were. Iwaizumi was guilty of being stuck in your orbit. “Just a kiss. Because he sweet talked me into thinking he wanted something.”

“Knowing him, he probably did.” Iwaizumi said, “Oikawa has a tendency to be obsessive to get what he wants, but also be blinded by obligations. This was definitely about him headlining the booth, right?” 

You nodded, feeling a sudden tightness in your throat at the thought. You weren’t ready to confront the morning’s events quite yet. 

“That dumbass,” Iwaizumi groaned, “If he’d told us that he liked you and had actually managed to make a move we would’ve gladly taken his shift! Who gives a fuck about what the college body wants? Half of them thirst over everyone!” You laughed a bit at the truth of that statement. “Yeah, and Kiyoko told me she was also planning on making a little appearance.” 

At this Iwaizumi raised his brow. “Oh that’s about to be carnage.” 

“Absolutely,” you giggled, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the lucky person.” Iwaizumi laughed, a sound that was low and sweet and comforting. “I think I’ll leave it to some of the other boys. They deserve a chance after all.” 

The two of you grinned at the mental imagery of the team fighting for a chance to interact with your beautiful friend, and suddenly, Oikawa’s shittiness seemed like something far less relevant. 

Still, even with the humor of the situation came the very uncomfortable realization that you and Oikawa–-whatever you were–-were done if you didn’t come to some consensus. 

You shoved your hands into your face, wondering how the hell you’d managed to go from avoidant and unattached to too attached. Maybe the rumors had some merit. A kiss from Oikawa was all that it took to get so jumbled. 

Iwaizumi’s warm palm on your back was what brought you back to your senses. He rubbed his slow circles and sat there patiently until you emerged from your cover of shame. 

“What am I going to do?” you asked, voice raw and vulnerable and everything you’d rather it not have been. 

“Whatever you want to do.” Iwaizumi’s gaze was genuine, soft eyes studying you. “You’re entitled to your own decisions. Kuroo and I would never ditch you for Shitty you know.” 

“It’s for the team,” you whispered, feeling tears threatening to spill over your cheeks. Your vision was hazy, and you blinked slowly to clear the water from your eyes. “So then why do I feel like this?” 

“Because you care about him, Y/N.” Iwaizumi squeezed your shoulder affectionately, “You and him clearly bonded on some intergalactic level, so having that be suddenly shattered in favor of something seemingly less important is going to feel like shit. In fact, he is the real piece of crap here.” “The team matters.” “The team is all about relationships.” Iwaizumi said firmly. “I have a hunch there’s someone in this tournament that he needs to beat. That’s why he’s been obsessively orchestrating the perfect way to raise money to have a practice match beforehand. Still, I won’t deny it. Oikawa is an idiot for doing this to you. You have all the rights to move on with your life.” 

“I think I’m gonna take my space from him for a few days,” you eventually responded. “I think I’ll also not visit the booth. I’ll give Kuroo the sign in advance so he can help with setting up?” 

Iwaizumi nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you need to do, I’ll be your number one supporter. I’d still love it if you could stop by though. We love having you around.” 

You nodded at him. “I’ll be there for you and Kuroo. Always. And you guys can hang out with me at the Cool Down when you’re off shift.” 

“Of course,” Iwaizumi smiled, “For you? Anything.”

“How do you say, ‘I’m angry’ in French?” The ping of the recording microphone tapped on as Oikawa paced quickly around his room. 

“Je suis fâché.” 

“How do you say, ‘I like to go out with my friends’ in French?” “J’aime sortir avec mes amis.” 

“How do you say, ‘I went to my friend’s house’ in French?” 

“Je ne veux pas continuer.” 

“Oui Monsieur. À Bientôt!” His phone’s recording feature switched off, leaving him in a silent room once again. 

He was regretful, so much so that he paced around in his room in the hopes that it would give him some sort of clarity. As much as he wanted to approach you, he knew you weren’t ready to talk to him right now. 

“Shittykawa,” he heard from his door, opening with a subtlety and closing with a bang. Classic Iwa move. 

He turned to face his best friend, who at this moment, seemed to be quite irritated with him. He could feel the lecture as certain as one could feel a thunderstorm in the air. 

Iwaizumi stood, arms crossed in Oikawa’s room, leaning against the wall and pinning him with a look so strong it might as well have been a thumbtack. Oikawa felt rooted in place, and all the words he initially planned on saying left his mouth. 

“So Ushijima Wakatoshi happens to be at a school just a bit over,” Iwa started, “I did my research. Why not play a practice match with them to start to see their setting style? Break down their setter, practice receiving from a left-handed person, and maybe we can beat him, right?” 

Oikawa sighed, feeling all the fight leave his body. He made his way over to his pale blue rug and sat down. “I know. It’s ridiculous.” 

“What’s ridiculous is what you did to Y/N.” Iwaizumi glared at him. “If you’d said something about liking them and actually successfully getting them to like you, then we would’ve been perfectly capable of handling the shifts. Hell, even Kiyoko is coming. That alone will give people incentive to come and kiss us.” 

“I made a mistake,” Oikawa cringed. He didn’t even want to think about the morning. What was intended to be a romantic gesture ended up being a horrible memory. His attempts to distract himself were futile, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Iwaizumi had found you. “But they probably don’t want to talk to me.” 

Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa sadly. “They’re planning on skipping the booth. They’ve already decided to give their poster to Kuroo so he can help us with set-up. So don’t plan on seeing them.” 

He grimaced. “Not coming? Really?” 

Iwaizumi nodded. “I was pretty unhappy about it, but we’ve got to give them space to process everything.” The minute you’d smiled at him in the airport, talking about “college stampedes,” Oikawa knew he wanted nothing more but to know you better. He’d thanked every lucky star for the seats you had next to each other and relished every moment spent with you. 

He wondered why you avoided him for the next months, always daydreaming about what he’d say to you when you finally reappeared at practices. He’d searched for you in your classes, but he always missed you. 

When you walked into the gym on that fateful day, he thought he had a genuine chance. You were perfect. Your thoughts were exquisite, your smile radiant, and everything about you felt right. When he kissed you, he could’ve screamed to the heavens that his heart was yours. 

Perhaps that was why his heart seemed to tear a bit at Iwaizumi’s declaration. You wanted to move on from this. 

“Oikawa…you can still fix this you know?” Iwaizumi pulled him up from the rug, noting the reignited spark in his eyes. “You should probably get the fair set up, find Y/N, and explain yourself. I’m certain they’ll understand.” 

“It’s the least I can do,” he said solemnly, “And if they still decide they want nothing to do with me, at least I did my part.”

You found him at Kuroo’s place at night when you’d stepped through his door uninvited (like you did at times). In your hands was your laptop, a few pencils, and the sign you’d made for the booth. The last thing you’d expected was to see the person you’d been trying so desperately to avoid. 

Oikawa, for a moment, looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked at the door, brown eyes concerned and scanning you as if you’d just walked in through the wall. 

Nobody said anything. You stood still, too shell-shocked to process the fact that a night before the Cool Down, Oikawa was spending time with Kuroo. In fact, you could barely believe Kuroo had ever allowed Oikawa into his place in the first place, especially when he knew that you were planning on popping in at some point. 

Kuroo’s eyes followed your gaze, finding it landing right on the floor next to Oikawa (as opposed to straight at him). 

“Well,” Kuroo began softly, “I didn’t warn either of you.” 

“You could have,” you said, looking back at Kuroo, “I would’ve liked to know before I got here.” “But then you would have never showed up.” Oikawa’s voice was clear, slicing through the silence of the room with a blade of decisiveness that you hadn’t heard from him. He looked you over, seemingly analyzing your health since the day he’d fucked up. 

“I wasn’t planning on running into you,” you admitted, finding the courage to meet his eyes. “In fact, I was literally just coming to drop off the sign for your booth, talk to my best friend, and then go to bed.” 

“Please let me explain myself.” Everything about Oikawa seemed pleading. His face harbored an expression of guilt so boundless that you weren’t sure how to react. 

You wordlessly sat down in the corner chair closest to Kuroo’s door, setting your stuff down on the surface closest to it. 

“I’m sure Iwaizumi must have told you what it was that we were raising money for.” 

You nodded.

“I never had the chance to tell you more about what I struggled with in high school," Oikawa said quietly. “I was surrounded by talented players. Some of them are so talented that I thought I never even stood a chance.  I realized at the end of my matches that I deserved to be on the court just as much as anyone else.” 

“You’re a damn good setter Oikawa,” Kuroo interjected, “And even Semi admires your sets. He’s from the same school as Ushijima too.”

“Thank you,” Oikawa laughed softly, but even the sound was sad. He turned to meet your eyes. “I was out of line trying to say the volleyball club mattered more to me than what we were getting to be. I was worried they’d be weird at me for flaking, but they’re my team. Iwa told me they’d always have my back. Happy setter happy tosses right?” 

You took a moment to process everything that he was saying, ultimately coming to one conclusion. He really did feel bad. 

“Why are you so obsessed with having a chance to beat someone you had a rivalry with in highschool?” 

Oikawa paused, contemplating your question. His brow was furrowed, and his hands clutched anxiously around nothing, seemingly finding the best words to phrase—whatever it was—that he was feeling. 

“It was to give myself the confidence to know I can still beat tough opponents,” he said quietly. “But it was never worth losing you.” 

You gently moved onto the floor, kneeling your way over to where Oikawa sat. When your fingertips skimmed his cheek, cool from the fall time air, he seemed fragile. 

You gently curved your fingers to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Are you sure you mean it?” 

“Every last word.” Oikawa whispers, and maybe against your better instincts, you pull him into an embrace.

As far as Oikawa was concerned, you weren’t coming to the booth today. 

Cool Down’s set up began bright and early, and despite last night’s emotional clarity, Kuroo was still the one who showed up with the sign. 

The booth was placed in a central location, but deep enough into the carnival so that after a sweet kiss, everyone could go and support the other clubs. He hadn’t been able to spot Kiyoko quite yet, but he was certain they were bound to cross paths eventually. 

He walked across the grassy area where the carnival was being set up, watching the glorious “Cool Down” sign being placed at the front of the admit area. Many sports teams and board members of academic clubs were helping organize their own booths. 

“Hey Oikawa! I can put up the banner!” Bokuto shouted from across the field, jogging up to their area with a rolled up “Mystic Kissbooth” backdrop. 

“Be careful!” He yelled back, “We can’t have one of our best spikers getting hurt. I need those cross court and straight shots in perfect condition!” 

Bokuto grinned so widely that Oikawa couldn’t help but grin back. “You can count on me!” 

He took a moment to slouch against the now filled bouncy castle by their stand, clutching his clipboard to his chest. He could practically sense the excitement seeping into the space as the nearby club members set up their stands. 

He’d had the opportunity to survey the space beforehand, and was quite pleased with the nearby stations. 

The art club created a paint gun bullseye game to win handmade trinkets and jewelry. The president stood proudly at the set up side, excitedly loading up paint into the guns. He could already predict the boyfriends who’d attempt to win there.

To the other side of them was the statistics club’s probability stand. They’d set up numerous games: cards, a wheel, and even ring toss for the chance to win huge prizes. At the present moment, Kuroo was inquiring about the legitimacy of the airpods in one of the member’s hands (and yes—they were legit). 

“This is pretty amazing, huh?” 

Oikawa snapped out of his reverie, only to see Mattsun sporting his classic smirk. He looked around for Makki, but didn’t find him. 

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I’m honestly surprised our little flier accomplished this much.” 

“I’m not,” Mattsun chuckled, “You’ve been like this since high school Oikawa. Everyone here is really grateful for the rumors. Speaking of which…think the culprit is going to show up today?” 

Oikawa snorted, momentarily horrified at the sound 

that escaped him. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not planning on being a headliner. Iwa’s got that covered.” 

Makki walked into view just a few moments later, looking thoroughly confused. “Where’s the rest of the team?” 

Kuroo walked over at the exact moment, clapping Makki on the back. “We decided to give them a little break, considering they’re going to be doing all the kissing later.” 

The group gathered together, and Mattsun pointed to the castle. “Who’s running this thing?” 

“Oh it’s just a free fun thing the school is putting up.” Oikawa smacked it for good measure. 

“How did midterms even go for you guys?” Kuroo laughed, “I pulled what I wanted in all my classes. Somehow. Orgo was a fucking miracle though. I genuinely thought I failed.”

“I was mostly fine,” Mattsun chuckled, “Though we won’t talk about history. Freaking liberal arts.” 

Oikawa’s midterms had gone more or less to plan, but the added emotional stress had made it much more difficult to keep cool. 

Standing there in that grassy field, he felt more at peace than he did the rest of the week. 

Maybe today would be okay after all.

You and Iwaizumi were in your room trying to devise a plan on how to attend the carnival. The cool wood of your desk hit your wrist as you spread out the makeshift blueprint of the event that Kiyoko had so graciously given you. 

Iwaizumi paced along the floor, inspecting outfits that you picked out while you devised a mental list of everywhere you wanted to go to maximize your enjoyment. Economic principles were literally designed off of utility, and you wanted to make sure all your contributions would have the best outcome for the clubs and yourself. 

Midterms had been stressful, and while last night’s talk had fixed most of what had contributed to that stress, you still wondered about Oikawa.  

Iwaizumi was the event’s new headliner, so what did that mean for Oikawa? 

You weren’t sure. 

The Saturday morning filled your room with sunshine that was comforting. From your window you were greeted with the multicolored leaves of campus, some floating down leisurely to hit the grass. 

Iwaizumi, it seemed, had finally picked your outfit. 

“Here,” he gestured, pointing to one of your favorites. “You rock this one.” 

“Why thank you,” you smiled, tossing him the blueprint. “I’ve finally figured out the order I’m going to tour the Cool Down.”

Iwaizumi caught the paper in one arm, muscles flexing ever so slightly as he did. You nodded appreciatively. He was going to generate a shit ton of money. 

He put a pen between his lips ever so slightly as he read the marks on the page. “Cotton candy. Art booth. Bouncy castle. Stats games. Chemistry lab. Apple dunk to win candy apples. Physics coaster.” He handed the page back. “That’s a pretty solid list. I think you’re missing something though.”

You pulled the pen out of Iwa’s mouth (surprised at your boldness) and smiled gently at him. “I’ll be sure to pop in at some point or be nearby to support you.” 

Iwaizumi nodded, “Of course. I just need to beat you at any and all games we visit after my shift.” 

You snickered. “Not a chance.” 

Iwaizumi simply smirked in response.

“Hey, I need two tickets!” A student hollered to her assistant, who at the present moment, was working on acquiring more admit tickets from the roll they’d customized for the event. “We have quite the line here.” 

“I’m working on it!” The assistant hollered back, jogging over with the entire row. 

The line for the Cool Down was large, and you were thankful you’d had the foresight to arrive early enough to avoid a majority of the crowd. Being friends with Iwa had its perks too–the minute that the admitting team had spotted him, they’d immediately ushered you to the front so you were in a position to visit him later. 

Soon enough, you were at the front of the line. 

“Well hello there friend of Iwaizumi,” the girl at the front smiled, “How many tickets do you need?” “Just one,” you said, surprised at the lack of prompt to pay the entrance fee. “What about the entrance fee?” 

“Oh, Iwaizumi took care of that already,” the assistant grinned, handing you a beautifully designed cardstock ticket and tying a wristband around your wrist. “So you can walk straight in.” 

You smiled graciously at the duo. “Wow. I’ll go find him and pay him back. Thank you guys.”

Stepping around the ticket distribution center, you walked straight through the decorated entrance area and walked in. 

For a moment, you were awestruck. The usually empty grass fields were filled to the brim with activity. All around you were the booths of various clubs, all with lines to try them out. You could smell the sweet and tart scent of caramel apples in the distance, and saw a couple trying out the physics club’s make-shift coaster with a cotton candy in their hands. 

The late afternoon was brisk and fresh, and you felt the possibilities of the evening unfurl around you. As the sky darkened its hues, the fair would begin to light up from the fixtures that trimmed everyone’s areas. Everything, from the food areas, to even the Mystic Kissbooth would create a movie-like scene. 

You decided right there and then that the Cool Down was the best fair you’d ever attended. You’d never seen anything as well thought out as what you saw today. 

You made your way to the popcorn area, finding new booths that you hadn’t seen on the blueprint. In front of you was a simple dart-throw, with the guarantee of winning a special edition Cool Down shirt if you hit within a certain range. 

This was intriguing. 

“Hi there,” you said quietly, walking up to the booth. “Can I give this a whirl?” The booth’s president looked up at you shocked for a moment before nodding. 

“Of course!” He said excitedly, elbowing his shift mate. “Y/L/N Y/N, right? We are huge fans of your work. Kuroo has told us so so much about you!” 

“My work?” You asked curiously as they pressed a dart into your palm. “Like my fliers?” “Hell yeah,” the president grinned. “Pay if you win okay? I honestly want you to get our design out of it. We were inspired a bit by your Mystic Kissbooth sign.” 

In the spirit of good fun, you aimed the dart as best as you could, so surprised when you hit a spot very close to the bulls-eye. 

“Hey!” you shouted excitedly, “I actually got in range!” The president smiled excitedly. “Amazing! What’s your shirt size?” You told him your size, tucking a good amount of money into the jar. As soon as the soft shirt fabric hit your hands, you were immediately overcome with a sense of pride. The design was beautiful and simple, capturing the essence in the fair in just an image.

“You’re the design club?” You grinned, “This is amazing!” “Ah thank you,” the president said bashfully, “It’s an honor to get a compliment from you. You’re more than welcome to join us. Canva art is still art we love.” 

“I’ll be sure to consider it!” You waved goodbye to the design booth as you made your way deeper into the fair, a t-shirt in hand. 

“Hey there! Want a chance to win a cool plushie? Come right over!” You turned your head to be met with the sewing club with something that looked a lot like “Bop-It” set up with sheets of papers next to them. Out of sheer curiosity you made your way to the booth, finding a larger crowd than you anticipated. “Okay,” one of the members began, “Here is how this works. You and your competitor will receive a pre-programmed Bop-It machine. Follow the color scheme as closely as you can and note the last color in each sequence on your sheet. If you don’t mess up before your partner, you win ANY handmade plush of your choice!” In front of you, you spotted a couple tucking money into the jar and competing against one another. The round was quick, ending when someone clicked the wrong color. The handmade plushie of the winner was adorable. 

Somehow, all your observations had led you to the front of the line. 

“Hello,” a student smiled, “Do you have a competitor with you?” You were about to share a response when you heard a voice behind you. “Yeah, they do. I’d like to play please.” You were pleasantly surprised to find Kiyoko grinning as she tucked a hefty amount into the jar. The student at the front seemed enamored, and so did the entire line. 

“Shimizu Kiyoko is here…” they all whispered. 

“Hey Kiyoko,” you smiled, placing your own money in the jar. “Planning to beat me?” 

“Of course.” She grinned mischievously, “I ran a volleyball team. I am competitive enough to beat you.” 

The game began as soon as the students got a grip of themselves. You frantically hit the colors and noted them down, only to tie with Kiyoko. You’d both walked away with adorable plushies, though Kiyoko had forcibly had to ensure that they didn’t hand her an extra. 

“I’m glad to run into you,” you smiled, walking with her further into the grass. “I had no idea what time you were planning to get here.” 

“I’m glad I found you.” Her smile was infectious, and soon enough, you stood in front of a candy apple stand. 

“Are you planning to visit the booth?” You asked her, watching her pay for her apple. 

“Yeah,” she smiled, “Oikawa begged me to cover, so I was feeling nice. Though he’s been sulking lately.” You raised a brow. When you saw him last night, you could feel his fatigue. You felt the stress melt out of him when you pulled him in for a hug, but you hadn’t realized the extent of his distress. 

“He hasn’t kissed today at all,” she smiled knowingly, “I think he’s saving an appearance for a special someone.” “He’s….not headlining?” You were shocked. After everything, it seemed that he really meant what he said. 

“Nope,” Kiyoko wiped some caramel from her lips. “And the booth’s sales have been spectacular.” 

Standing there in the field, you were hit with the intense urge to see him. “Go,” Kiyoko smiled, “They’ve been waiting for you to show up.” “We’ll catch up.” You smiled as you took off in a jog towards the booth. The wind swept your cheeks as you ran, and you could see the evening sun dip into different colors. Beautiful, you thought, feeling the adrenaline pump through your veins. 

He really had meant everything. You needed to see him. 

When you arrived at the booth, you were shocked at the line. So many students lined up, money in hand as they waited for their chance to kiss a volleyball player. You were shocked to see the crowd, watching someone hand Semi a particularly large bill before leaning in for a kiss. 

You surveyed the booth for Oikawa, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. You couldn’t stop the thrum of your heart in your chest from overpowering your senses. Where was he? What if you were too late? At that particular moment, Oikawa walked out from behind the stand, putting some Chapstick onto his lips. And then, he saw you. 

You stood in line, a large bill in hand and an expression that seemed almost desperate. Oikawa has never seen anyone look more perfect than you did right now. You held a handmade plushie and a shirt, lips flushed from biting them. 

You met his eyes, feeling your heart shock at the sensation. There he was. 

Before you even had a chance to think about what you were doing, you ran out of line to him, shoving the bill into his hands. 

“Tooru,” you said breathlessly, looking at him with an expression he’d never seen before. “Kiyoko told me you weren’t headlining. I was afraid I wasn’t going to find you. I’m sorry for not trusting you.” Oikawa could hardly hide his shock as the words tumbled from your lips. He studied your cheeks, and smoothed out your wind mused hair with a soft smile. “Hey, it’s alright.” You exhaled, looking at him like he strung the stars. “I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.” Oikawa simply grinned before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. 

This was different from the last time you kissed. He cupped your face softly and wrapped his other arm around your waist, tracing a small heart into your back. You could feel the curve of his lips as he kissed you softly, pulling you deeper when you smiled back into it. Everything about this was soft, almost loving. It felt like a truce. It felt like a confession. 

It felt better than both of those things. When you finally split for air, his smile was nearly blinding. He looked at you like you were a poet and he was your poetry, a product of your purest affections. 

“Go out with me sometime?” He looked nervous, standing there like he hadn’t just kissed you like you were the most special person in the universe. 

“Of course,” you grinned, pulling him down for another kiss.

©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited

if you got this far, thank you for reading <3!!

[dsireland86]

There is Beauty in the Pain

Chapter 4 Pt. 3

***Warnings: sexual content and language

Summary: Noah and Sophie find each other in the most unprecedented circumstances. Whether it's the Universe, fate, destiny, or pure luck, they can't deny that their souls were simply meant to be

AUTHOR'S NOTE: REVISED FROM ORIGINAL

***if you want to be added to the tag list, let me know :)***

@lma1986 @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @missduffsblog @bngurngheart @thatamazingvampirestory

--Link to Chapter 5 Pt. 1 at the bottom--

Folio:

“That hit her pretty fast. Do you think she’s okay?” Noah brushed the hair out of Sophie’s face. He was holding her still body, as they sat on the floor where she fell waiting for the situation to calm down. Noah nodded and kissed the side of her. “She’ll be okay,” he affirmed, giving me a half smile. I knew she would be, but still, watching someone go through something so intense as a panic attack was crazy when you don’t fully understand it. I didn’t, but I knew Noah did. When the events happened with Sarah a few years back, I didn’t think he was going to pull through, yet here he was. So I guess he was right; Sophie would be okay.

“Will you go grab some chocolate? I think Jolly left a bar on the kitchen counter." "Sure. What for?" "It helps calm the brain cells and the blood pressure." “Alright,” I agreed, walking away in search of what he needed. My head was reeling with so many questions and wondering if and how Sophie was going to pull through this. My head and my heart were being pulled into two different directions at this point and I didn't know how to feel about any of it. “This should work,” I said, grabbing the chocolate bar Noah was talking about. I took it back, sighing with relief when I saw Sophie sitting on the couch. “Will this work?” handing the chocolate to Noah. Sophie’s eyes met mine and I was glad to see they were less strained with worry. I smiled at her and my heart fluttered when she softly smiled back and reached for my fingers, lightly caressing their tips. It was just enough to ease the tension in me. “I’m okay,” she assured me. I shook my head. “No you’re not, but that’s okay. Like I told you before, I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here.” She knew what that meant, and by the smile that finally reached her eyes, I knew she believed me. 

Sophie:

I hated myself. I should’ve had a much better grip on my anxiety. Perry was right when he said it would always make me weak. I cradled my head in my hands. Even though I felt a little better from the small bites from the chocolate Folio gave me, I still couldn’t shut my brain off. And I didn’t know how much worse it was about to get. 

Jolly handed me my phone and reluctantly I turned it on. The anticipation of knowing what I would find ate away at me, because like all the times before, I was sure Perry had called me or at least texted. He always did. He would apologize and later fill my apartment with flowers. It was nothing but a sick game that he loved to play. 

The missed call icon appeared at the top of my phone, standing out like a dark cloud on the sunniest day of the year, confirmed my fear. I thought I was prepared to face the truth, but I wasn’t, and the sudden feeling of falling ten thousand feet into nothing came over me like a tidal wave. Twenty-seven times he called me. Twenty-seven times he attempted to continue playing his sick, twisted game, but this time it was possible that I might have found the ending to it. But just the same, my eyes welled up with tears and I clenched my teeth together as I breathed slowly in and out through my nose to keep calm, refusing to let the anxiety take over me again. But I was weak, just like always, and eventually the demon took control. The phone fell out of my hands as Noah’s voice grew distant with the ringing in my ears growing louder. My demon had won again and was dragging back down to hell.

Noah:

I was very familiar with anxiety attacks like the one Sophie experienced. Anxiety was a fucking demon that had no sympathy. It had the power to bring anyone to their knees and make them believe they weren’t worth saving That's what happened to me. The constant loop of reminding myself my thoughts weren’t facts and anxiety always lied to me grew exhausting as I was trying to be stronger than I felt. This is what I was seeing with Sophie. She was fighting a battle she was never going to win unless she had help. I wanted to be that help.

Sitting calmly in the aftermath, Sophie was putting on a good front out of habit. But inside the battle was still raging on, hiding inside her mind in an effort to regain some sense of stability. Folio brought over the chocolate, giving her a piece and I watched the way she gravitated towards him. I don’t know why but I felt jealous when she reached for his hand. The way they looked at each other and the things I heard Folio say to her made those voices in my head scream loud. Breathing in deeply, I remembered what my therapist said about jealousy; “It’s a form of hatred built upon your insecurity.” I had no reason to be jealous of Nick or feel insecure in any way. He was my friend, my brother. I trusted him with my life. I should trust him that he’d respect the feelings between me and Sophie, as he would mine. The connections we both shared with Sophie were very different, but yet the same; we both deeply cared for her.

Jolly handed over her phone and she unlocked it. But from the moment she did, I knew something was wrong. Her body stiffened and a tear fell, softly sliding down her cheek. “Sophie, what is it?" But I had lost her. The anxiety came faster and the panic attack hit her quicker than before. “Just breathe Sophie,” I encouraged her, rubbing her back as she rocked back and forth gasping in between desperate gasps. “Noah, this is bad,” Nicholas pointed out, picking up her phone just as teardrops hit his hands. He paused, taking a moment to stare at them. He slowly looked up at Sophie and his face softened in a way like I’d never seen. “Hey, Sophie, there’s a good girl,” he said, grinning. “Can you hear me enough to listen to me?” Sophie slowly nodded. Nicholas’ voice was soothing, slowly working a magic that I never knew he had. “You’re okay. You’re safe; you’re protected. You know that, don’t you?” She nodded quickly. “Good. Can you take my hands?” Sophie gave Nick her shaky hands, exhaling a quivering breath. Nick massaged the tops of her hands, rubbing small circles on the skin, as he continued talking to her, carrying her through the attack. I sat back in amazement, never knowing he had it in him. 

“See, everything is okay. What's on the phone doesn't matter. What does matter is in this room with you.” Jolly handed Nicholas some tissues which he used to dry off Sophie's face, smiling at her as he did. “You're strong Soph. You're not weak. You have to believe that you are to fully work through all of this mess.” Sophie nodded, blowing her nose. Now that she was done crying she turned her face towards me and my heart shattered. She looked exhausted, worn out still from everything. Whatever she saw on my face was enough to make her tear up again as she fell into my arms and curled herself up into me. “Noah, you should see this,” Nicholas insisted after picking up Sophie’s phone and checking to see what triggered her, and then handed it to me. “He called me twenty-seven times, Noah. Who does?” Sophie muttered against my chest. I tensed, checking the phone to see that she was right. “I don’t understand why he just doesn’t leave me alone. Why does he love torturing me so much?” She began to cry again so I just wrapped my arms around her and held her tight while she clung to me and cried. The vibration of her phone still in my hand startled me and I almost dropped it, but the sound made Sophie spring up off me as if I were a burning hot coal or something. Her face filled with fear. “Hey it’s okay,” I told her, rubbing her arm. “It’s okay. I’ll check it okay?” She nodded, relaxing a little, putting her pin in when I handed it to her. She quickly handed it back like it was burning her hand. 

The text message icon was in the top left corner. Sophie had two new messages. The phone vibrated again. Three new messages; with Perry’s name and number attached to all three. I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw tight, reluctantly pulling the bar down and opening the messages. The first one was a picture of him and Sophie together. I cringed the moment I saw him with his hands all over her. Even though this was a past photo, it enraged me to see them together. The message read

“This was us, baby. And I miss us.”

I wanted to vomit. The second one was a picture of just Sophie. But instead of her sweet, pretty face, there were bruises, a black eye, and a busted up bloody lip. Groaning, I knew what had happened moments before this picture was taken. Her eyes were closed, but the outside around them was moist. I was glad they were closed. I didn’t want to see the pain and fear that I knew were lingering in them. Peering down at Sophie, she had nestled back into me, but was wide awake and staring into nothing. I went back to looking at the messages.  

“Do you remember this? I do. It was the night I promised I'd never hurt you again. I lied.”

The last message was too hard to read.

“I hope you understand that everything I've done to you, you've deserved. I hope you understand that there were so many times I showed you mercy and didn't discipline you like I should have. Sophie, all the harsh punishment you've ever received was because you disrespected me. I won't be disrespected and you will come to know this; no matter the cost. Come back to me, my love, come back and I'll do better. I love you. I still want you. No matter what you do.”

“Holy shit, motherfucker,” I cursed. “What?” Sophie sat up, wiping her face and drying her eyes I didn't want her to see the last message and thought about deleting it, but that wasn't going to protect her from anything. It would only be lying to her, and I wasn't going to lie to her. Sophie stared at me, waiting for me to answer. Instead I just handed her back the phone. As she was reading, I got up and went to the kitchen, needing something to drink. Folio followed me.

“How bad is it?” I filled a cup with fridge water and drank the entire thing. “That motherfucker deserves to burn in fucking hell for what he's done to her Nick. Not only did he hurt her physically, but he took pictures and sent them to her.” Folio hung his head, shaking it in disappointment. “Animal,” I railed, hitting the counter top with my fist. “And that's just half of it. He told her she deserves what he does to her; that it's because she is disrespectful to him and that’s what makes him do what he does to her. The man is fucking sick. He’s deranged!” I balled my hands into fists again and closed my eyes. Hoping the anger would pass, I rubbed my neck, rolling my head, from side to side, trying to work out the tension. “Hey, Sophie’s out there crying,” Jolly stopped himself after one look at me. “What’s wrong with you?” “Nothing,” I shook my head, instantly burying the rage inside me once I heard Jolly say Sophie’s name. “What’s going on with her?” Jolly stared at me, skeptically. “She’s crying and asking for you.”

I didn’t wait to hear anymore. I walked out of the kitchen only feeling angrier. “Sophie, what’s wrong?” “He sent another message; a video” She held up the phone for me to see and I snatched it out of her hand a little harder than I meant to. It was a graphic short clip of Perry fucking another woman and he was looking right at the camera as he did. I shifted my eyes to Sophie. Her head was buried in her arms, shoulders shaking from her quiet sobs. Seeing her that way triggered the rage I thought I’d buried. Raising my arm, I howled in anger, about to throw the phone against the wall. “Wow, hey, Noah, don’t!” Nicholas yelled, grabbing my arm just in time. “Dude, what the fuck,” he said, grabbing Sophie’s phone from my grasp. I was breathing heavily, trying to calm down. Sophie was watching me and she was in shock. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” running my hands through my hair and squatting down eye level with her. “I’m sorry, okay. It just pissed me off seeing that clip.” “Why?” Her forehead creased with confusion as if she really didn’t understand why I was so angry. “What do you mean why? He shouldn’t have sent it to you. It’s disgusting and a fucked up thing to to do to someone.” She shrugged, looking away. “I’m used to it.” “Yeah, well you shouldn’t be.” “But I am, Noah. I am; I have been for a long time. I have to be,” she snapped, glaring at me.

“Besides, he’s right. I do disrespect him; a lot.” “I’m sorry, what?” I wasn’t sure I heard her right. “I have been really disrespectful to him, Noah. I shouldn’t have set him off back at the apartment. He only came to apologize, but I was stubborn and hard headed. I didn’t hear him out. He deserved better.” Sophie hung her head, sniffling back the tears. “You’re fucking joking, right? Please, tell me you’re joking.” She slowly shook her head. “Just drop it, Noah okay. Forget about it.” I stood to my feet, looking over at Nicholas. “No. I’m not gonna drop it, Sophie.” Jolly and Folio joined us once they heard the commotion. “Is she for real right now,” I said to Nick, motioning to Sophie with my hands. “Why is she protecting a monster?” Her sudden behavior change was infuriating. 

“I’m not protecting a monster, Noah. I’m protecting myself,” Sophie yelled at me, jumping to her feet. “You will never be able to understand how I feel, how I’m afraid all of the time.” “Then make me understand, Sophie!” “I can’t. I don’t know how to,” she sniffed, wiping away the tears that were falling. I scoffed, turning my back to her. “I don’t understand how you can’t explain it to me.” Sophie growled in frustration. “Why are you so freaking impossible, Noah.” The room went silent as we all stood in a somewhat of a circle, staring between each other and the floor. “Look, Noah, I already told you to drop it; implying I don't want to talk about any of it anymore, yet you keep insisting.” “That’s because I fucking care about you, Sophie!” “Yeah, well I didn’t ask you to care, did I?” I winced, stung by the words that just fell from her lips. It felt like she had just slapped me across the face, it hurt that bad. I didn’t know how to react or what to say for fear of hurting her, so I just stood there, speechless. “This isn’t about you, Noah. This is about me and my fucked up life that I’ve drug you and your friends into. None of you deserve this mess I’m in.” Sophie looked around at all of us, her tone and expression somber. The sadness I heard tore my heart. “I shouldn’t have gotten any of you involved in this. I’m sorry.” She lowered her head while taking a deep breath to try and compose herself before coming over to me. “Thank you for caring enough though,” she said softly, laying her forehead into my chest. I laid my hands gently over her neck and kissed her hair. “No one ever has because I have no one to care. My parents are both dead and I was their only child. Alex is the closest thing to family that I have, but he had his own life. That’s why Perry means so much even though he shouldn’t. He loves me in his own, fucked up, messed up way. And I need that love, Noah.” I pulled Sophie back to look at her. Hooking my finger under her chin, I raised her face and let my eyes wander over all the bruises of what she thought was love. I traced it lightly with my fingers, feeling the way she pushed into my touch, making my heart race. “But that’s not love, Sophie; that’s abuse. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. He just didn’t give a fuck. His reasoning, his excuses, his words,” I paused as she finally look into my eyes, “his actions, none of it was love; just heavy fucking manipulation that you endured because you had no other choice. Now you do, and it’s in this room with you.” My voice was soft, but my face was stern. I needed her to really understand that I wasn’t about to bail out and abandon her. I was in this with her now; we all were. “He doesn’t have a clue how bad he fucked you up, Sophie, and even if he did, I don’t think he would care,” Folio added. “But we do,” Jolly confirmed, giving her a soft smile. Sophie’s emotional wall broke again and she fell into my chest crying. “He abandoned me, over and over again,” she cried, raising her fists to my chest. “He ignored me and hurt me, only to come back and tell me how much he loved me. I just wanted him to really love me, not fucking destroy me!” Her small firsts pounded into me, and even though it didn’t hurt, I could feel the angst, the hurt, the pain she was releasing. And I was more than willing to take it all if it meant she would feel better. “People don’t abandon people they love. People abandon people they’re using, Soph,” Nicholas affirmed her, caressing her hair. “I know. I know,” she agreed, raising her head and breathing deeply. “I just, I don’t know. I was just wishful thinking the whole time I guess.” She let out a little sarcastic laugh. 

Cupping her face in my hands, I gently dried her eyes with my thumbs, noticing the way the feeling made her wince, but she smiled anyway. "I don't have any answers for you," I began, shaking my head as hair fell over my eyes. Her small hand reached out and sweetly brushed it away, trailing her fingers down the side of my face as she did and I placed a small kiss on her wrist. "And I'm not going to lie to you and tell you everything's going to be okay because I don't know if it will be. You have a lot to deal with; you have a lot of choices to make."

Sophie's head fell, but I wasn't going to let her linger in her thoughts alone. I lifted her head with my finger under her chin to look into her eyes. "But you won't be doing it alone. Whatever happens, whatever you're going to face, I'll be, we’ll all be here to help you face it." The hesitation to not believe me was there; the apprehension was clearly visible. “Don’t play with me, Noah. I don’t trust easily.” I shook my head, giving her a soft smile. “I’m not playing with you, Sophie. I’m one hundred percent serious.” “When I tell you “I trust you”,” she stopped. Inhaling deeply, Sophie closed her eyes, then exhaled. “Please, don’t make me regret it, please don’t make me regret showing you my brokenness.” When she reopened her eyes, they were glistening with tears, but she refused to let any of them fall. I took a moment to allow her words to sink in. I understood what she was asking of me and I knew, in times, it would prove to be difficult. But I was willing to try. Sophie needed me to try. Since the day Sarah left me the way she did, I’d been looking for a reason to love someone the way I loved her. But I never found that reason; until now. That reason was standing in front of me, begging me to not give up on her. And I wasn’t about to. Taking her face in between my hands I made her this promise; “If you promise to stay, I promise to never leave. I don’t want to fix you. I know I can’t heal you, but I can help you see how beautiful your brokenness is even if you don’t think so. Each little cracked piece fits into the masterpiece of who you’re becoming, but also who you are right now. And, right now, I see a beautiful soul; your soul, Sophie. I won’t make you regret trusting me if you won’t regret believing in me.” I thought I was going to feel pangs of regret saying those words, but I didn’t. Instead I felt the opposite. Sophie looked at me even more confused than before. “I know absolutely none of this makes any sense, but that’s okay. It doesn’t have to. Just trust me when I say I won’t hurt you, okay?” She nodded then fell into me, curling herself into my arms. I was becoming aware of how often she did this and I was growing to deeply love each time she did. I held her close to me, putting aside my own fears and worries for the time being. I could deal with my shit later. Right now, my goal was to help Sophie get better, and I knew I wasn’t alone. 

He leaned against the wall with his arms folded over his chest and his eyes fixed on me and Sophie. I’d known him long enough to know that he didn’t fall easily or get hooked by a girl simply because he thought she was pretty. No, when he was interested, he was all in; no matter the cost, no matter the pain that would come if rejected, no matter if he gave her all of his heart only to have it shattered. I saw the way he looked at her; like she was the best thing to walk into his life. I knew exactly how Folio was feeling; because I felt the exact same way.

CHAPTER 5 PT.1

[bonesandthebees]

hi bee :) semi-new anon here just hoping that you’ve been doing okay <3 i wanted to say that i absolutely adore your writing, and will happily read it, no matter what fandom it is you’re writing for, or if you’re just writing original works /gen!! your writing has always inspired me heavily hehe, it’s wonderful.

also, on the topic of original works, do you have any good novel recommendations? i’ve recently gotten back into reading and have been super into fiction, but i’m down for any sort of recs. one of my favourites at the moment is good omens :)

here’s your daily message to go have some water or tea and take care of yourself !! 🌷

hello hello!! I'm doing pretty alright now, feeling a lot better than I was this past week :) and that's so sweet of you to say, it's so reassuring knowing I have so many of you guys willing to read my silly stories no matter which fandom they're about (or even if they're original)

and yes I do have some recs!

I made a post about two months ago now talking about books I'd read that I really enjoyed so there'll be some crossover here but also some new ones I've read since then

one of my new favorite novels is The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon. it's a heavy fantasy story following 4 different intertwining POVs. the fantasy world itself is made up of several different countries all inspired by various real world cultures that's not just limited to western europe which is incredibly refreshing. the world itself is incredibly fleshed out and interesting, the characters are all very diverse and have so much depth, and there's also a very beautiful sapphic romance <3 I'm reading the prequel to priory right now and I'm also loving it so far

another book I really enjoyed is actually a duology—The Radiant Emperor series by Shelley Parker-Chan. the first book in the series is She Who Became the Sun which I really enjoyed, however the sequel book He Who Drowned the World is the one that absolutely blew me away. just letting you know in case you're not comfortable with it, both books contain sex and some graphic violence. the story is set in 14th century China when it was ruled by the Mongols, and it's an incredibly well done queer retelling/fictionalization of the rise of Zhu Yuanzhang, the Emperor who ushered in the Ming dynasty. the text engages with so many themes of the expectations of masculinity and femininity and how they restrict people, and really dives into gender expression and how it can be wielded in different ways. again the first one was really enjoyable, but the second one was on a whole other level and I'm still reeling over how good it was and how much it emotionally hurt me.

ok and then last one for now

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone - I know we all heard about this one thanks to the iconic bigolas dickolas wolfwood on twitter but also they were so right about this book. it's gorgeously written. the book itself is mostly written as letters exchanged between two women who are time traveling agents on opposing sides of a war for who controls the timelines. it's a beautiful love story, it's sci fi but with a heavy bend towards spec fic which I personally really like, the world concepts are incredibly fascinating, and it plays around with time travel in a very intriguing way. it's a very short book so it's an easy one to burn through. I checked this one out from my library but I'm highkey tempted to go to a bookstore and actually buy a physical copy for myself just because there were so many gorgeous lines I want to highlight

hope this helps!! my taste in books is usually: sci fi/fantasy/spec fic with sapphic women so hopefully that's something you enjoy as well lmao

[thxrnking]

Day One - A Night Children AU One-shot

Tag List: @phoenixriaartemis @anja-the-sane-sibling @simplycreatorjo @miraimeity @sparklingdiva678 @punsandquips @lyna-possibility @32nder @libralelia @luvvy-star @caitlynnrosespn @generalakuma @anonymous-gremlin @mightnightmooon @delphinus-dancer @mudpuddlenl

Summary - Today's the first day of the rest of Jack's life. So what's his choice?

Content Warning - implied physical abuse/torture

----

Everything hurts. A pounding throb is threatening to tear my head apart while my limbs ache, every muscle feels over-stretched, and I’m pretty close to just slipping back into unconsciousness. Something itches though, at the base of my brain, something pushing me to stand and look. I have no idea at what.

It takes some time to drag myself up, every muscle crying out in overworked agony. With a stretch, my joints crack and pop back into place, releasing pressure I had no idea I’d been carrying and drawing from me a long sigh of relief.

You’d think standing would be easier now that I’m sat up. You’d think. Not even halfway up, my head reels, swirling worse than a snow-globe. Everything’s spinning around me and I land heavily back on the bed. I think I might be sick.

I don’t know what happened. I vaguely remember my friends, there was dancing, but after that there’s nothing. No faces, no names, not even a vague feeling in any direction. Just a great blank slate where my memories should be and the more I look at it, the more my head hurts. It takes a minute or two but I finally manage to stand. My balance is still off and I stumble into my dresser which isn’t fun, and all thoughts leave my head when I catch sight of myself in the mirror.

At least I think that’s me. Same pale complexion, stellar cheekbones, striking jawline, but that’s not my hair. I’ve had the same hair my whole life, short, red, gently styled. Easy to maintain and iconic; but the hair in the mirror is an inch shorter, and black. Well except for a small pink streak near the top of my head.

I reach for it in shock, barely believing as my reflection does the same. What the-?

“You’re awake.”

The sudden voice scares me near shitless. My knees thud against the dresser but I don’t have time to feel the smack, turning to see Wanderlust standing a short way away. At least I think it’s Wanderlust. He looks taller; his clothes and his crown are darker, more twisted. Over his shoulders is a feathered cape that can only mean one thing. Mother.

“What happened to you!” I blurt, but he doesn’t even blink.

“What do you remember?” he asks.

“Nothing. I-”

Wait.

Cold. I remember being cold. I don’t remember what happened to my blazer, but my shirt was torn and damp and I was littered in cuts and bruises. I look down at my chest. My smart shirt isn’t torn. It’s purple and neatly pressed and fits me perfectly. As ever it’s good at hiding Mother’s sins.

A hollow ache blossoms in my chest. I’d been alone. Restrained and locked away. Never mind days it had to have been weeks. Had anyone even realised I was missing? Did anyone care?

I start to cough, hacking and spluttering; desperately trying to catch my breath as my chest spasms over and over. My stomach twists, wrenching violently as I drop to one knee, trying and failing to catch myself against the dresser.

I’m going to be sick, or I would if there was anything in my stomach. For a few minutes I’m retching as my body tries and fails to eject something, anything from my mouth. When was the last time I ate something?

Then comfort floods me as something warm comes in beside me. An arm wraps around my shoulder and pulls me in. I look up. Wanderlust holds me, his grip firm and strong as he pulls me close, gently hushing me. The ache in my chest fades to a dull pain.

I remember.

Wanderlust was the one who found me. Walked right in with a new smile, some new clothes, and quiet promises to keep me safe. I’d flinched away but he didn’t care.

‘Trust me.’ he’d said. The two dumbest words I’d ever heard him say. Of course I trust him.

Wanderlust moves to stand, pulling me up with him and without thought, I follow his lead. I hold tight as I try to get my legs to take my own weight. I’m not ready to let him go; he’s so warm. His fingertips drag along my forearm, sending goosebumps dancing across my skin and I think he knows what he’s doing because his lips are quirked in such a shit-eating smile. I just might melt in that smile. Gradually, he drags them towards my hand, taking it and interlocking our fingers, holding tight.

My head is swimming as we stand there; he’s holding my hand up, while the other has dropped to my back, holding me close; it’s almost like we’re dancing. As if we’d ever be allowed to stand this close.

But we are.

With a gentle twist of my fingers as he lifts my hand, Wanderlust encourages me to turn, wrapping his free arm around my waist again and pulling me back against him.

“Look at us,” he tells me.

So I look.

This can’t be us, I tell myself. The arm around my waist tightens like he’s afraid I might walk away. I should. We agreed a long time ago that we can’t be together. No one will accept us, and there’s more important things to focus on.

But look at how entwined we are. Wanderlust’s chin on my shoulder, his chest pressed firm against my back, his arms tight around me. His lips brush against my cheek as he presses a soft kiss and I can’t help but drown a little.

How many times have I let go for the greater good? For the sake of safety or sacrifice? Don’t I deserve this? Don’t I deserve to be happy?

“What do you think?” There’s a sly smile on Wanderlust’s lips as his reflection pins me with an unyielding gaze.

I stare at us. At my hair. At his crown. In his eyes. My eyes flit to every point of contact; like a drink of cool water after hours in the hot sun, it’s all too much and not enough. I push myself back into his hold, and Wanderlust pulls me closer. He’s only too happy to give me what I want. Finally.

“Perfect.”

[himboskywalker]

Soooooo final thoughts on the Kenobi show miss Tag?

Sobbing, we were given everything we wanted isn’t it great?

But really we were pretty much given everything and even after a couple stolen hours of sleep I’m still just reeling. Because it was so Godamn good guys,like everything about it was as close to perfect as we could get. Literally everything I wanted from this show,the Hero’s journey arc for Obi-Wan,force visions/flashbacks of Anakin,Vaderwan fight scenes,an open faced Hayden as Vader scene, I not only got,but I got masterfully done. Everything was handled with such deference and love and it’s so evident that for Deborah and Ewan and Hayden,this was at its core a passion project that all mattered dearly to them. And that soul and dedication and care truly shines through in the weighted moments they give the characters and the narrative arcs that really mean something.

Others have mentioned on here how good the show is simply for leaning in on the themes that Star Wars is built on. Good and light and goodness will always prevail against hate and evil. Kindness is the foundation of the Jedi,letting go is tantamount to growth and happiness. The Kenobi series,reduced down to its bare bones,actually understands what Star Wars is about. And it’s narratives boiled down even further is to Obi-Wan and Anakin and forgiveness and holding on.

Obi-Wan’s arc is relearning himself,relearning to be a Jedi and to have faith in people and to forgive himself. Anakin’s is to cement himself in his own agony and inability to let go,to become the Darth Vader Obi-Wan faces Nine years later. You truly cannot have one without the other,where Kenobi goes Skywalker follows,and however you look at these men you cannot untangle them,or truly examine their characters without the other.

But on a less thematic perfectness vein,the choreography was also stunning. The evolution of Obi-Wan through his movements and his fighting. Can you believe episode one opened with a bent and weathered Obi who looked closer to Alec Guinness than the Ewan we know? He is haggard and worn and weak,and through the narrative he puts on his robes and takes up his saber and slowly learns to have faith and to use the force again. And by the finale he is the great Jedi Master General Obi-Wan Kenobi,falling into his iconic opening of Soresu and leveling an entire battlefield of rocks with the force. The lightsaber scenes were spectacular,and as much a story in themselves as the dialogue and emotional arc.

And I think the ending was perfect. Obi-Wan gets closure as much as he’s capable of,he is ready to move on. And after the wretched devastation that is the Anakin/Obi final fight,we end on a note of happiness and hope. Obi-Wan gets to meet Luke and Lobby that Hello There line,we see him actual to god laugh when he didn’t even smile for ten years. He finally communes with Qui-Gon,is finally looking to the future rather than the past.

In all I think it was brilliant,better than I could have ever hoped for. It better win awards,the world better prostrate themselves at Hayden’s feet and beg for forgiveness when he is such a stunningly phenomenal actor and a fucking wonderful person to boot. I want Roman parades of victory,I want to throw myself into the sun so I can stop having so many feelings.

[san--jose--sharpedos]

I’m bored so here’s some of my jackets IG, pretty much all of these were jackets that I got on sale super cheap or that I was given.

The purple jacket is my newest and still very much a work in progress, (all of them are escrow the Donnie Darko one actually, purple is jsut the newest) and I need to redo the back patch (Polkas Not Dead by The Dreadnoughts, fave album by my fave band) next to it is my other main jacket which has a Danger Days back design. “Do Good Recklessly” is a saying that has resonated with me a lot so I figured it would be cool to have it there. I got a Reel Big Fish patch coming in the mail soon and I wanna get a Ska Dream patch for it, trying to decide if I wanna add some colored/patterned panels to it bc that night look cool. Gotta figure out what other bands I wanna put on it but it’s kinda hard to find colorful patches lmao

The gray jacket actually started off as a cosplay item for a Killjoys OC that I never got around to doing. I consider this my first jacket even tho there was a really shitty vest that I wore one singular time before I got this one. My boyfriend actually made a few of the patches that are on the gray jacket (Days N Daze and Polkas Not Dead above the spider) as birthday gifts when we first met, I don’t put a ton of patches on that jacket and it’s all bands that are v important to me for various reasons, the Frank Turner one was from the first show I went to with my boyfriend and he has one on one of his jackets too. Mischief Brew is one of my fave bands and their music means a lot to me, LS Dunes (the pyramid) has a really cool community surrounding it so I thought it would be cool to put that there. It also has zippered sleeves which makes it really nice for year round use!! Also has a Billy Idol pin because I grew up listening to Generation X and I still adore that debut album. Im immunocompromised and have a kidney transplant so I decided to add the pins to represent that because they are a big part of who I am.

On the bottom two pics, the left jacket is my queer horror inspired jacket. I am at some point gonna get a backpatch of The Old Dark House of a scene at the end of the movie with Morgan (Boris Karloff) holding Saul’s body (Brember Wills.) It also has a few Rocky Horror related items on it such as the “creature of the night” patch coming from the song Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch Me as well as the iconic lips and Frank-N-Furtor. Also have a The Lost Boys pin and the Babadook as well as a Beetlejuice pin. The Elm St. pin is specifically for Nightmare 2 and Gene Co is from Repo the Genetic Opera, a movie with a bisexual face stealer. It’s a fun time. Frankenstein and the Bride are classic queer coded cinema and James Whales was an openly gay man who directed both (as well as The Old Dark House) in the 1930s.

The last jacket is my Donnie Darko jacket. Donnie Darko is one of my fave movies, everting except the pins were done by hand. The pins are all artists who are actually featured in the soundtrack of the movie.

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

It's All in the Name

Summary: Peter One and Peter Two object to some of the quirky nicknames Peter Three has given them.

“I’ll have you know that I take this as a personal affront to my honor,” Peter Three announced with a pout from his perch on the back of the couch. At this angle he could look over Peter One’s shoulder at the search results as he scrolled.

“Your objections have been duly noted and filed,” Peter Two assured him as he leaned in to observe on the other side. “Let’s just go with the top one, Peter: random-name-generator.com.”

“Guys, I’m right here!” Peter Three protested again. “Remember me? Peter Three, your brother who knows and loves you, who actually puts thought and effort and all the care in the world into this! You’d cast me aside for the first 252 million search results?”

“Our public aliases don’t have to be anything special. All we need are names that we like and can remember.”

Peter Three reeled back, hands lashing out to grip the couch cushions as if to steady himself through an earthquake. “Wait, wait, wait, back it up for a second. Are you saying you don’t like my nicknames for you?”

“I’m saying that I could happily live out the rest of my days without hearing you call me ‘Kermit’ again,” Peter Two huffed with pursed lips and a side eye.

“And ‘Petey Pie’ is what Aunt May used to call me when I was, like, four. This is just a hunch but I think I’m a little big for it now.” Peter One’s gaze drifted somewhere soulfully distant for a moment or two. “I-I don’t really hate ‘Bambi’, though. Mr. Stark called me that a couple times and I know he meant it in a nice way.”

“Hey, I do too! It’s a compliment to your pretty doe eyes! While also doubling as a tribute to your, uh, beauty and grace on the ice rink.”

“Wha—Dude, I thought we all agreed we were never gonna bring that up again!”

“As if we don’t have it on video too—” At the fiery flush building in Peter One’s cheeks, Peter Three coughed. “Anyway, Bambi and Kermit are beloved pop culture icons! Considering neither of you technically exist in this universe, I’d say it’s pretty generous of me to put you on their celebrity level. The point is that all of my pet names for you guys have been given out of nothing but love and affection!”

“You didn’t sound very affectionate when you called me a stink bug.”

“That was just once—I don’t even know how you remember that, by the way; your long-term recall was a little sketch at the time—and frankly you deserved it for acting like you hated me, throwing a fit and being a little stinker. Kinda speaks for itself.”

“Okay, but I don’t think I deserved ‘Bugle Boy.’”

“Come on, you couldn’t expect me to pass on it after finding out you still work for Jameson. Maybe if he ever gives you a raise, you can be promoted to Bugle Man.” Peter Two’s wordless stare had him raising his hands to placate. “Okay, well, it references that old song too! That’s a compliment! You can appreciate one of the catchy classics, right? Toot toot toot, toot diddelyada—”

“And then there was the time we were both reduced to ‘Parallel Parkers.’”

“You can’t say it’s not accurate!”

“Mhmm, it’s definitely more accurate than your parking. I guess I can see your reasoning there—but where exactly were you going with ‘Deep Blue’? I’m not a whale.”

“No, no, no, no, no! Ugh, maybe I should’ve gone with ‘Baby Blue’ to make it clear and to the point. Peter One got a nickname as a commentary on his eyes; I thought you deserved one too! Your eyes are standout, they’re lovely! Am I not allowed to appreciate some of my brothers’ best features?”

“I didn’t exactly appreciate it much when I coughed and you called me Gollum.”

Peter Three opened his mouth, then closed it, finally conceding, “…Okay, yeah, that one was rude, I’m sorry. You just caught me off guard! You’re still a kid and you’ve already got such a dad cough! In case you hadn’t heard, I quip as a coping mechanism when I encounter the unexpected.”

“I don’t even know why we’re discussing this right now. It’s not as if any of those are usable aliases.”

“They could be good for mission code names! And phone contacts! Although I already nailed the perfect contact names for both of you, I wouldn’t want to change them now…” The beat of resigned silence that followed had him shrugging with a smile that was equal parts sheepishness and warmth. “Big Bug, Bitty Bug. I’m holding onto those no matter what you say.”

“And no matter what you say, we need secondary identities we can turn to as a precautionary measure, and I cannot—and will not—have Kermit the Frog on an I.D.” As the name generator scrolled through results, Peter Two tutted thoughtfully. “What about…Tobias?”

Peter Three scrunched his nose. “Tobias sounds like a white collar criminal. A mild-mannered, easygoing youth pastor such as thyself would go by Tobey.”

“Tobey. Huh. That works for me.”

“Should we all have ‘T’ names?” Peter One questioned.

“Why? Would you want to go by Tony?”

He only considered it for half a second before ducking his head and sagging further back into the couch cushions with a sigh. “No, I-I don’t think I could ever pull that off. Doesn’t even suit my face, really. I’m more of a…” He cast an uncertain glance at the list. “Tom? But when it’s my universe, I still get first rights to Peter! I-I’d only be Tom if it’s super important, like if we’re undercover or we think my identity—my not-identity would somehow get exposed again.”

Three softened, scooting to squeeze his brother’s nearest shoulder. “We’re careful. That’s not going to happen. And I guess if ‘Peter’ is off the market here, I’ll begrudgingly pick one of these boring, basic names spat out by the system with no heart or character.”

“No, no, don’t trouble yourself. Since your nicknaming technique is clearly superior and you were so inspired by that ‘Bugle Boy’ song,” Two remarked with a prim smile, “why don’t you go by Andrew?”

“Oh, yeah…The Andrews Sisters, Buck Privates. But ‘A’ and ‘T’ are practically on opposite ends of the alphabet! Is this your way of saying we’ve all grown apart? I still love you!”

“Since you’ve already slapped so many nicknames onto us, I think a little turnabout is fair play.”

“Alright, fine. Andrew. I can roll with it.” The twitch of a smirk and the keen gleam in Peter Three’s eye didn’t inspire confidence as he somersaulted back off the couch and sprang onto his feet. “Funny thing about turnabout…It’s all in the name. It has a tendency of coming right back at you, Toblerone.”

[ifuckinglovedinosaurssomuchjesus]

Reviewing every Dinosaur movie ever: #12 Fifty Million Years Ago

RELEASE DATE: 1925

SYNOPSIS: A trip though Earth’s history as we go from the formation of the earth to the first sea life, to the first land life, through a selection of dinosaurs, and ending on the Ice Age and its mammal inhabitants.

THOUGHTS: Originally a German film that is now lost, only the American re-edit remains, which cut out footage to keep it one reel length long. While pretty obviously a cash grab, it does let us look into the window of this time, mainly by what it was capitalizing on. 1925 not only saw the release of The Lost World (which I'll get to next time) which was such a sure hit that they advertised this short as “just like the movie” before the film was even released, but also this was right smack dab in the middle of the Scopes trial. A Tennessee teacher had been arrested for teaching evolution in the classroom, and the trial was reaching international levels as everyone argued what counted as religion and what should we be teaching our kids. It’s a painfully relevant trial today as US schools are starting to ban books that talk about LGBT history.

Still, this short has nothing to do with that besides trying to cash in on the discussion. The real appeal is just seeing how ridiculously wrong this short is. The title of “Fifty Million Years Ago” isn’t talking about the dinosaurs, it’s talking about the AGE OF THE EARTH! Yes, even though scientists weren’t sure exactly how old the Earth was at this time, nobody’s estimates were that low. That’s less than 1/80th todays estimates. It’s all very amusing.

The short starts with some painted backgrounds and paper models showcasing the Earth’s formation and early life, focusing on Trilobites and Jellyfish. There’s a cool little paper puppet dragonfly that I really like. It moves on the the dinosaurs, who are all very stiff stop motion and of their times, obviously this film didn't have the budget or talent that The Lost World had, so you can’t really blame them. I do believe this is the film debut of Iguanodon though, surprised it took this long to be honest.

Overall the film is very nice, very indicative of the time which may explain why it isn’t as iconic as O’Brien’s works, but still entertaining in its own confused way. I watched my copy from the National Film Preservation Foundation which provided it with an original score by Michael D. Mortilla who gives it a very slow, ominous sound. I know this word is overused now, but the rigid dinosaurs styled after museum mounts, the blueish tint, and the slow music give the whole thing a very liminal feel. It feels like walking through a mall at night or something. Check it out on their website to see what I'm talking about.

RATING: 6/10

[leveeisbreaking]

Hello hello my darling!! 🖤

I saw someone doing a tag chain of this, so I wanted to ask you the same.

Pick an artist/group (or as many more as you wish!) that you like, and rate their top 5 songs on Spotify as follows:

Love the song - Like the song - Skip the song

For example, my ratings for Xdinary Heroes:

Good enough

Freakin' Bad

Happy Death Day

Strawberry Cake

Test Me

You can provide explanations if you wish! Or not. Up to you! 🩵

Hello bestie! Thank you for this amazing and very entertaining ask!🥰

Sorry for the late reply, it took me a while to figure out how to change font colors💀

I’m going to pick Nirvana for this one because I have some opinions I suppose instead of LZ or the Beatles where I would love every one!

Smells Like Teen Spirit: years of me skipping this song has made me actually like it quite a bit.

Come As You Are: this one is always a banger. It makes me feel very cool every time I listen to it

Heart Shaped Box: this song is one of my faves and honestly I think In Utero might even be higher rated or equal for me than Nevermind

Lithium: this song is so iconic and probably what made me a fan in the first place. Kurt’s vocals are amazing and so is the instrumental work

Something in the Way: its popularity on TikTok and reels when Batman came out has made me stay away from it. Even though before that, I loved it a lot. I still love it, but it’s pretty overplayed

All of this is pretty much subject to change haha but I had so much fun with this

[riverstardis]

schoolboy crush:

ethan wakes up on the sofa of alicia jez and max’s place and jez and max are laughing at him and he asks how alicia is🥺

cut to alicia in the ed hiding in admin and louise is like “explain?” “i’m avoiding ethan” “why? because you look so rough?” “no, but thanks for that. basically he came back to mine last night right, and we were about to kiss, and i puked. on his shoes.” “how drunk were you?!” “i was nervous!” “right?” “so i snuck out, left him on the sofa, and now, well, i can’t face him, can i?” “well definitely not because now you’re the girl who’s puke wound up between his toes forever more!” 😭😭😭

david’s very happy because he’s texting ollie🥺 alicia asks him about his bum bag sjdkfjf

ollie! ollie >:( i’m still bitter about what they did to him

rosa smashes ollie’s phone when she finds out he’s been texting david behind her back?!?!

so he steals the car and drives to the hospital😭😭😭

max and jez still trying to win alicia over for their bet🙄

ollie says he wants to live with david and rosa starts shouting in the middle of reception saying he can’t because he kidnapped him and ran off to acapulco with a stripper😢 and everyone’s staring at them

charlie punching his old school bully in the face at his school reunion SJDKFKKG that’s pretty iconic tbh even if it is charlie

then when the guy goes to retaliate charlie just steps out of the way and he falls through a table😭😭 duffy calls an ambulance and charlie reduces his dislocated shoulder and everybody claps skdkfkfk

ollie burning photos of him and david😢😢

rosa tells david not to go behind her back but he TRIED to go through her????

the car’s on fire😬😬

bold of rosa to say “daddy’s coming ollie” instead of trying to get him out of the car herself when she’s just told david he can’t see him anymore!

it’s not ollie’s first fire apparently

david tries to subtly give ollie a psych test and rosa gets mad saying “come on, what’s the verdict? have you lumbered me with your mental son?” ollie’s literally right there no wonder he doesn’t want to live with you wtf????

i can’t hear david shouting that he’s got bipolar without hearing “i’ve got… A LOVELY BUNCH OF COCONUTS” from the bloopers😭😭

ethan and alicia trying to sneak their patient’s cat in SGSGSHDH elle figures out what they’re doing immediately and just tells to make sure there’s some air holes in the bag

again i can’t see alicia holding the cat without hearing “i don’t know how the fuck you hold a cat” from the bloopers😭

she offers to take the cat while the woman’s recovering??? i didn’t remember that, is it ever mentioned again???

david promising rosa he’ll never come off his meds again… only to come off them again a few months later

alicia got ethan new shoes and they’re absolutely horrendous sjskfkgk she’s goes “sorry, it’s all they had in the gift shop. but it’s the thought that counts isn’t it?”

oh that was another one from the bloopers where lloyd everitt says “yo chelsea” instead of “yo alicia”. man how much of that blooper reel was just from this episode alone???

elle tells alicia about max and jez’s bet on who can kiss her first. nothing gets past elle honestly

why does charlie look like a thumb

alicia finds max and jez passed out drunk and puts them into bed together and takes their pants off SKDKFKGKL DESERVED

[pwarkluv]

❝ electric love ❞ - pjs

park jisung x reader | fluff | 2k words

WARNINGS | lowercase is intended, too fluffy because it’s my fav genre to write about, kinda strangers to lovers au, idol au, idol!jisung, itzysixthmember!reader, I’M SO SORRY TO MY CURVY AND THOSE TALLER THAN JISUNG READERS y/n is called small and tiny in this fic (i still love you though), mentions hair color but just pretend it’s dyed like lisa’s hair in the hylt era, shy!jisung and shy!reader because y’all are babies who don’t know how to approach someone who you like

SUMMARY | when itzy and nct dream meet on weekly idol, one member of itzy catches a certain maknae’s eye.

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by “electric love” by borns :P yes it’s a tiktok song but it’s a good tiktok song so bite me >:( i disappeared for a bit so enjoy this trash imagine because i lost the will to write for a bit. also not edited really well i’m sorry for mistakes :(

your palms become sweaty as you nervously sit in the chair, the makeup artist diligently working on your face. wannabe came out about a month ago and the overwhelming popularity and support came flowing through, especially with ryujin’s shoulder part in the beginning. 

itzy’s fandom grew and so did the group as a whole, the six of you continuing to learn more about being an idol. 

but the one thing you were lacking in was interacting with other idols. 

itzy debuted in early 2019 giving you guys a little interaction with others like your brother group, stray kids. but when the whole pandemic hit, causing you all to isolate in quarantine to protect each other, talking to others outside of your company became rare. 

you were extremely awkward when it came to other idols. sure, you could talk to fans. you knew how to act and talk to them since that was a part of your training. but talking to idols, another person who wasn’t a fan, was different. 

unfortunately for you, on the episode of weekly idol you are about to appear on, another group was going to be present. and of course they just had to be one of your favorite boy groups of all time: nct dream.

you’ve always looked up to nct as a whole, but nct dream has always been your favorite because they were young when the six, originally seven, first debuted. you were twelve when you saw their debut stage. dancing has always been a passion of yours. it made you feel free and alive. music has always been a part of you as well. you taught yourself how to write songs and produce them, even releasing music on soundcloud under an alias. 

so ever since you saw nct dream debut, you decided you wanted to be an idol too. three years later and you’re in itzy, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. but now that you were going to be in close proximity to the people you’ve looked up to for so long, even talking to them made your head hurt. 

ryujin bumped your hip teasingly as the six of you prepared to go on screen, knowing how you felt about nct dream. she was casted during a got7 fansign so when she first met them after her debut, that girl was a statue (though she would never admit it). 

“don’t worry y/nnie, i won’t mention your crush on park jisung.” ryujin slyly said before moving to escape your wrath. 

“ryu!” you whined, trying to smack her moving body. your face flushed, the heat rushing to your cheeks at the mention of the older boy. though you’ve never said it outloud, you’ve always had a thing for the maknae of nct. how could you not? he’s tall, polite, has a really good voice, and is the main dancer just like you. his style and the way he moved was beyond impressive, causing you to fall for him even more. 

the girls found out about your so-called “crush” (quotation marks to make you feel better even though you’re head over heels for him) when you saw nct dream in an award show. yuna saw the way you blushed and how your eyes strayed to the tall then pink haired boy a couple tables away from the six of you. since then they’ve all teased you about it whenever they can, making you whine in embarrassment every time. 

you shakily wipe your hands on your outfit, a stylist making a sound of disapproval before you turn to give her a small smile. moving towards a small mirror, you examine how you look with a worried face. your pale blue paper bag jeans were slightly baggy and you cringed knowing you were gonna perform wannabe in those. you adored the flowery top you had on though. it was white with tiny black flowers printed all over, the puff sleeves adding to the look. your hair was slightly curled, the blonde highlights peeking through from your jet black hair. 

you let out a worried breath as the management ushered you to hurry. showtime, you thought to yourself as you anticipated for the words “action”. 

in the middle of the room was the iconic white stage where weekly idol have always held their episodes. on one side was itzy waiting to enter and on the other was nct dream. 

“today is a very special episode for we have two awesome groups joining us today!” one of the hosts exclaimed excitingly, adding on to your nerves. lia sensed your distress and reached to give your hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“give it up for the hottest girl group of their generation, itzy!” the other host yelled before the six of you partied onto the stage. each of you had an excited expression on your face as the two hosts continued on before introducing nct dream.

“let’s warmly welcome one of our favorite teams to have on this show, nct dream!”

your heart raced as you saw the six of them walk on stage goofily, trying not to laugh at how awkward jisung looked. as if he sensed your eyes, jisung’s gaze met yours causing you to look away in shock. suddenly the floor became more interesting than the boy you’ve been crushing on for almost a year. 

“all in us! hello, we are itzy!” the six of you greeted towards the screen. unknowingly to you, the boy you were caught staring at was looking at you too. 

❝ baby you’re like lightning in a bottle ❞

jisung likes to think he’s a simple boy. he doesn’t like breaking the rules and is mostly a good kid. but gosh from the moment you two made eye contact, the brown haired boy was ready to run away then and there. you were pretty. like beyond pretty, and he’s never felt this way before.

sure it was a little creepy and slightly concerning for his image seeing as he currently has heart eyes for you while the cameras are rolling, but jisung couldn’t help himself. that flowery top of yours made you look soft and small, as if he could scoop you up in his arms like a child. jisung knew he was tall but dang, seeing you from afar made him think he was extra tall. the boy chuckled under his breath seeing you wear boots, knowing that gave you an extra boost.

she’s so small, he thought, smiling a bit.

renjun nudged him, noticing the younger was spacing off before following his eyes to a certain member of itzy. the elder smirked a bit as they all did their introductions.

“to the world here is, nct.” 

the boy smugly looked at their maknae who was currently blushing at being caught by his hyung for looking at you.

young love, renjun thought before turning his attention back to the hosts. 

❝ i can’t let you go now that i got it ❞

“so you guys have two main dancers in itzy right?” one of the hosts asks as the 12 idols sit together on chairs. yeji nodded and spoke up.

“yes it’s me and y/nnie but y/n’s a better dancer than me.” she replied, pointing a shoulder to you. you quickly rebutted and waved your hands in disagreement.

“no way~” you denied, turning red. “yeji unnie is the best.” you replied shyly, an awkward thumbs up to try and back up your claim. 

everyone cooed at your shy face. although you were the second youngest in itzy, 4 months older than your maknae, yuna’s much taller than you which made you look like the youngest. because of this everyone, including yuna, tended to child you because you were just so baby. 

“weren’t you a part of a highlight reel?” the other host asks you, once again embarrassing you. the girls laughed, the other six boys looked at the host in confusion.

“y/n unnie was apart of bts sunbaenim’s love yourself highlight reel!” yuna exclaimed. although she too was in the highlight reel, yuna always thought you were much cooler because you got selected for your dancing skills. 

everyone gasped in surprise (the hosts a bit more fake since they already knew that) at the revelation. 

“i was able to dance with j-hope sunbaenim and jimin sunbaenim for that highlight reel.” you responded, smiling a bit at the memory. the boys were beyond shocked knowing this must meant you were good. 

“how was it?” a host asks.

you marveled at the thought. “they were such good dancers and really really nice!” you said with a happy expression. “i would definitely love to dance with them again if i were given the opportunity.” the look on your face was clear you loved dancing and loved working with the pair. 

“can you show us the dance?” the host asks and just like that you immediately become a shy mess.

“o-oh um i mean yeah i could do that.” you stuttered as chaeryoung softly pushed you off your chair and into the middle of the room. she smirked a bit at your timid form, knowing what she’s doing. from the moment you walked in, the maknae of nct seemed to be head over heels for you and she knew he was the main dancer just like you.

i swear if they don’t end up together after this i’m suing, chaeryoung thought as she looked at the starstruck boy watching you expectantly. 

❝ and all i need is to be struck ❞

jisung wasn’t surprised to hear that you were one of the main dancers in itzy but to hear that you worked with bts’s j-hope and jimin? he was beyond impressed and (though he would never admit it) was lowkey really excited to see you dance. 

he watched as you timidly walked towards the middle of the stage, calming down your nerves. jisung watched with a faint smile until the music started playing, and just like that he was a goner. 

❝ by your electric love ❞

the way you moved, your technique, your facial expressions. everything was mesmerizing. the whole room watched in awe as you danced to the routine you burned into your mind as a trainee, knowing that this was one of your biggest projects ever. in that moment jisung completely fell for you, and everyone in the room except for you knew that. 

“and that’s the end of today’s episode of weekly idol!” you all cheered with the hosts, jisung’s heart beating fast knowing he wanted to talk to you after this episode but not knowing how to. 

“cut!” the director yelled out, a little excited to know what was to come. they of course noticed jisung’s lovestruck expression and the way your eyes lingered on the boy, and of course they didn’t catch it on camera. knowing you two were young and idols, they didn’t want to ruin what you two might have since they were all rooting for you two. 

“if you don’t talk to her i swear i’ll tell her embarrassing stories of you.” donghyuck threatened. just like the others, he too noticed jisung’s attraction to you throughout this whole episode. the boy’s eyes widened in shock, yelping as chenle pushed him towards your way with a small smirk. 

“unnie no.” you cried out, beyond terrified as you watched jisung walk towards you. as soon as the episode ended you were pulled away by the girls who quickly explained to you that jisung “had the hots'' for you (ryujin’s words, not yours). 

your mind was going at a million miles per hour, heart racing as jisung came closer and cleared his throat.

“h-hi.” he said, his voice never not taking you by surprise. jisung was towering over you, looking down at you nervously.

“h-hello.” you smiled and jisung could’ve sworn he melted just a little. 

“get together already!” lia and jaemin yelled out together, making the two of you blush and unconsciously lean closer. 

❝ electric love ❞

“wanna hang out sometime soon?” jisung asked, his sudden confidence taking you and him off guard. you bit back a smile before holding your hand out. 

“give me your number.” you replied, jisung’s smile he let out making you fall even more for him. 

[bistevethor]

Steve Rogers Fanfiction Recommendations

Happy birthday, Steve!

I know that there are some (a lot?) of steve fans who sometimes struggle to find fics focused on him, so I am here now putting a list of Steve fics. I was going to fics that I haven't seen recommended a lot and most of the ones on this post have less than 200 kudos only, but I end up putting everything (it's probably easier to put my bookmarks as public but well...). It's a massive list (over 100 fics?), so it's will be separated into several posts/reblogs.

Not all of them are from Steve's POV or even have him as the main 'main' character, but rest assured he played an important role and is featured heavily. Lots of these are friendship-focused but I categorized them. The shippy ones are mostly samsteve, thundershield, and some rare pairings because I don't venture to other ships a lot and when I did it's to the rare ones instead lol. Hopefully, any of you can find some gems from this list and these are as enjoyable or as good as I remembered. I'll continue to update it, hopefully, every time I find new ones.

Fics are under read more.

General

The Rocket's Red Glare

Steve was born on the Fourth of July (no joke), so a party is in order! Unfortunately, PTSD decides to rear its ugly head. Fortunately, Steve's got an entire team at his back to help him through it. And screaming goats.

an entry in the scrapbook of absurdity

In which Steve turns into a baby and bites people.

Baby Steve Adventures

Captain America gets hit by a spell during a battle. The rest of the Avengers look after him.

Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't)

"Dragr," Thor called them. "Demons" Clint had said. "Thieves" is what Steve labels them as. AKA, the one where Steve is captured by creatures that feed off of happy memories, and the team is left to pick up the pieces. Post-Avengers.

In Search of (Bucky, Family, Home)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

A week following the events of CATWS, Steve recruits Natasha and Sam to help find Bucky.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Do we need to recap again? You were shot three times, beaten near to death by an enhanced super soldier with a metal arm and then almost drowned. Yeah, your ass is going to need a few more days of healing time.”

The Truth When Captains Meet

Steve Rogers wakes up on an alien’s space ship being carried bridal style by Carol Danvers. As far as first meetings go, it’s memorable.

Irish Coffee

Pairings: Jessica Jones & Steve Rogers

Jessica runs into an incognito Cap at a cafe. They form an unlikely friendship of sorts.

The Lifetimes of Steve Rogers (Series)

What happens when Steve Rogers steps onto the quantum platform to return the Stones? Where does he go? What challenges does he find? Who does he meet? How many lifetimes can one man have?

Fifty-Two Pickup

Less than a week after the fall of the Triskelion, Steve Rogers is released from the hospital. Although his physical wounds are almost fully healed, other injuries need a bit more time, and some help from friends.

little kids get big so fast

Steve ends up having to take care of the deaged Defenders.

Grampa Steve's Bedtime Stories

If Mommy was away for work, then Morgan’s Grampa Steve came over to stay with her. He’d tuck her in, let her give Mommy a kiss on video chat, then hand her the picture of Daddy for his kiss. Once Daddy’s picture was back on the bookshelf, Grampa Steve would turn off the bedside lamp so that Miss Friday could cover the ceiling with stars, and ask Morgan what story she wanted to hear.

“Captain Steve, Grampa! Tell me Captain Steve!”

Grampa Steve sometimes read to her from books and other times watched a movie with her, but her favorite by far was when he told her Captain Steve’s Adventures Through the Multiverse.

On Camping Trips

Sam is more Hermione than Natasha is, and Steve doesn't want to be Harry.

Powerful

Steve loses the advantages of the super-soldier serum. This is not a tragedy.

His Dream

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As if on cue, Steve cut him off with a loud sneeze.

"Yeah. Like that." Sam nodded. "And please sneeze into your elbow next time, dude. You could've just started an epidemic."

"Sorry. Allergies." Steve excused, and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know it's allergies?" Sam asked, and Steve sighed, putting the ingredients together and solving the mystery of what the gas had actually done.

The answer wasn't ideal. "It feels like the seasonal allergies I had before. Before the serum- and I haven't had them since the serum."

Realization clicked in Sam's head.

"The gas de-serumed you."

Steve swallowed and nodded reluctantly.

OR: Steve gets temporarily de-serumed, with his height and stature staying the same but his immune system being as bad as it was before, and has to stay in the hospital to prevent a severe allergic reaction or illness. Sam stays with him the whole time, making sure he's not alone.

A Strange Encounter

Things have gone awry and Strange is injured. With no other options, he's called for assistance from Captain America and his team.

even if we're apart, i'll always be with you

Steve finds a dirty toy bear at an abandoned gas station, on the way back from a school trip. He brings him home.

As Long as You’re Not Tired Yet of Talking

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

When Steve Rogers tells her, “Don’t be a stranger,” as they’re all going their own ways after New York, it makes her want to laugh.

Draw/Breath

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Natasha like knowing what makes people tick. She likes knowing things, about her teammates and her coworkers and herself. Oddly enough, sometimes other people like knowing her too.

AKA: Natasha wants to know why Steve isn’t drawing anymore, and takes the long way round to get her answer. Because why not.

With Magic We Do Fly

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

In Civil War we see Wanda fling Steve into the air with her magic. They must have practiced that, right?

Que Wanda throwing Steve against a wall. Many times.

Just Like We Practiced

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

Steve had said, in the movie when he asked Wanda to lift him into the building, "Just like we practiced." But just how did they come up with the idea of her lifting people with her powers, and putting them up somewhere like an escalator? Perhaps it was because Wanda accidentally sent a certain tall, blond Avenger face-first into the floor once and he decided he would help her learn to utilize this as a confidence building exercise. Natasha keeps an eye, Thor and Sam help build the training grounds, and Wanda has found her new home. Takes place between AGE OF ULTRON and CIVIL WAR.

Black and White but Red and Blue

They're watching black and white film reels, but Steve sees them in colour.

"My shield may be black and white but it was red and blue. Just like the blue sky under which red blood was spilled. Like Bucky's blue eyes and Peggy's red lips..."

The Road Warriors

Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff

It wasn't pretty, but somehow the four of them managed to make it through two years on the run.

We'll Fix It

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Steve has a hard time after his battle with The Winter Soldier and isn't sure what to do with himself. After not seeing him for a week, Natasha finally shows up to his apartment unannounced to figure out how they can get back to work. There is some crying involved.

From Here On Out

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

The Accords, the search for Bucky, the fight at the airport ... In a world where nothing will ever be the same, sometimes the road to rebuilding trust and friendship is a little rockier than it should be.

AKA, the story of Steve & Natasha and how they got to where they are.

Set post-Civil War but pre-Infinity War.

I have this breath and I hold it tight

Parings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Vision

Steve finally goes to Wanda’s tiny room and taps on the doorframe, although it’s hardly necessary, with the slightly warped floorboards creaking under his feet. “Hey,” he says. “Got a minute?”

Wanda's been a little withdrawn since Steve broke everyone out of the Raft. She's had a lot to think about.

to you.

Pairings: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff & Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Tony Stark

It's Wanda's birthday today. She's not sure how to feel.

New Love

Pairings: Diana (Wonder Woman) & Steve Rogers

Near the end of World War II, Diana Prince finds herself attempting to reconnect to her long-gone, beloved Steve Trevor. However, she comes across Steve Rogers instead.

Sharing Life (And Canned Green Beans)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

It’s Thanksgiving, and Steve is hiding in the second living room on the 8th floor of the penthouse apartments with a can of green beans.

I'm Fine

Steve slowly began to realize that the problem with being a national icon, a hero, and a role model, is that somehow, he became more than human. He become a symbol, not a person. So when he becomes increasingly unhappy, deeply depressed, and utterly adrift in a world where he doesn't belong, the loneliness and isolation are unbearable. How could anyone believe that an iconic hero like himself was really just an ordinary kid from Brooklyn, dying inside because everything he'd gained still wasn't enough to replace everything he'd lost? How could he possibly bring himself to bleed on the ones he loves? So he tells himself the same lie over and over, hoping one day, he'll believe it.

dogpile

"My dog ate my mission report" An injured Steve remembers something he has to do. Unabashed Steve and dogs fluff. "Didn't peg you for a pet guy." "Allergies."

Alone In This World (Together)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

“We’re fugitives,” Steve said finally. “It might never get better.”

“The world’s always going to need saving," Sam replied. "We’re still Avengers. No one can take that away from us.” Then, like they hadn't been having an entire conversation before, “So when do we leave?”

“Once night falls.”

Do we have any idea where she is?”

“No.” Steve took a sip of his coffee. “But I know where she’ll be.”

it gets the worst at night

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Here's how it goes: Natasha sometimes shares a bed with Steve. It's not what it sounds like.

(In which there are Colombian drug lords, awkward boners, cuddly super-soldiers and the Avengers are all giant dorks.)

Shelter

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Sam and Steve, right after the fall of SHIELD.

Princely Bickering

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Jane Foster, Steve Rogers & Thor

Steve allows Sam to lean up and inspect his head for bruises and blood. He then checks out Steve’s eyes. ‘Do you know where you are?’ Steve rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t be an ass, Cap, apparently you can break.’ ‘London, England, chasing apparently useless Hydra intel despite having about five hundred international arrest warrants out for us because we’re just that stupid,’ says Steve. Sam pats him - gently - on the shoulder. Life on the run isn't easy, especially not after an injury. Fortunately Steve still has a few allies left.

And The Seconds Tick Down

AU of Civil War. How the world ended in twenty steps when Steve died.

"Grant" and "Francis" Go Shopping

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve and Clint both have holiday shopping to do for their family of choice, so they make a day trip to an outlet mall, have a few heart to hearts, use some coupons, buy a bunch of presents, and eventually get through their shopping lists.

A Tune Without Words

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As he and Sam prepare to begin searching for Bucky, Steve gets various offers of help—some more unexpected than others.

Purpose

Tony Stark wins the fight in Siberia completely by accident.

Steve Rogers does not resist his arrest as he is taken to the Raft.

Sam Wilson, T'Challa, and Pepper Potts pick up the pieces.

Full of Wounds and Still Standing on my Feet

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

The five times Steve looked out for Wanda, and one time Wanda decided someone needed to look out for Steve.

Three Awakenings

The first three times that Steve Rogers woke up during his first twenty-four hours in the twenty-first century.

Making Your Own Future

Characters: Steve Rogers, Diana Prince, Steve Trevor Five times -- plus one -- that Diana Prince and Steve Rogers encountered one another.

Better Living Through Pizza

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve takes some time off from soldiering and Avengering to get his head on straight, and Clint is assigned to keep an eye on him, because apparently SHIELD believes in the blind leading the blind. Steve really needs a hobby, since modern television shows baffle him, but Clint keeps bringing him DVDs and pizza.

Five Times Clint Barton Spoke with Steve Rogers about Growing Old and the One Time He Didn't.

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

When Steve Rogers reappeared from the past as an old man, there was a lot of catching up to do. Clint Barton made sure nobody got left behind.

Hammer's Totally Heavy-Handed and Incompetent Revenge

"So, at the end of IM2, Justin Hammer swears revenge on Pepper. He waits until Tony and Rhodey are halfway across the world to launch his attack.

Unfortunately for him, thanks to SHIELD, Iron Man and War Machine aren't the only superheroes in Pepper's rolladex. Steve thinks Pepper's just swell and doesn't take too kindly to somebody trying to hurt her."

Cue badass!Steve and competent!Pepper

Fan Mail

Steve starts getting his fan mail and receives an invitation to the prom. Written for a prompt at the Avengers kink meme. It was a great prompt, and so much fun to write and get feedback for!

Prom. Steve 'Grandpa Iceberg' Rogers at a 21st-century high school prom. "This isn't happening. This whole conversation is just an elaborate practical joke. Bruce really just has orders for widgets or something."

Bruce waved the printouts at him. "Fraid not. I don't really do practical jokes. Messing with other people's moods just seems. I don't know. Karmically unwise."

Mascot

Steve runs. People see Steve run. Steve gets adopted by the neighbourhood he runs through every week day morning. He finds this confusing. Tony finds it amusing.

Locks Not Replaced

Tony angsts back at Avengers' HQ, Ross is a bully and Steve makes sure he doesn't get away with it. In other words, there is much regret, a bit on the philosophy of locks, adventure and far too many Robin Hood metaphors.

woof

For a prompt on the avengers kinkmeme: "...something different happens when Steve gets Dr Erskine's serum plus the Vita ray treatment... Steve does get taller and stronger, but when the first full moon hits, he turns into a big friendly looking dog. Yes, he's a weredog, not a werewolf."

Mission: Baby

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

The Asset finds himself in charge of the care of a small baby, but somehow he knows—he has to protect the baby from all harm, whatever the cost.

14 Tracks

Pairings: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team 14 tracks from Steve's iPod and how they got on there.

Life Will Rattle Your Bones

Pairings: Erik Lehnsherr & Steve Rogers

Captain America and the Howling Commandos find Schmidt sooner than they thought... wait, what do you mean this is a *different* Schmidt?

In war-torn Germany, the paths of Steve Rogers and Erik Lehnsherr cross, part, and cross again.

come build me up

Pairings: Sharon Carter & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“Do you ever feel like -- like you joined up because you wanted to do good. You wanted to do the right thing but somewhere along the way, you just lost the whole fucking plot.”

“All of the time.”

Or: the one where Captain America and Agent 13 give long distance friendship a whirl.

Down in the Worn Out Place Again

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

“You don't look a day over 85, Captain,” Wanda says.

Natasha smiles, just barely, and nudges Steve with her elbow. “She makes jokes now.”

(Post AoU, stories about friendship.)

Satellites

Characters: Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Nick Fury Pairings: Natasha Romanov & Steve Rogers, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

In the immediate aftermath of SHIELD's collapse and Steve's plunge into the Potomac, Natasha considers her place in the world. Also the fact that Steve is depressing.

Timeless Classics

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Avengers Team Five An undetermined number of times (six, apparently) Steve unexpectedly got the reference (sort of), and one time everyone discovered something new together.

you just wait and see

Pairings: Rocket Raccoon & Steve Rogers

“Thor said you’re the captain.” Rogers says, his voice distant, sad smile growing into a sadder grin. “Tough job.”

The Small Hours

Pairings: Steve Rogers & T'Challa, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

"I'm not getting him back, am I." The words were flatly delivered – not a question so much as fatigued resignation. "We will do everything we can to help him," T'Challa quietly replied, but he wouldn't lie, not about this. Not to a fellow warrior he respected on and off the field of battle. "The possibility does exist, however, that the triggers are permanent."

The Man We All Remember From the Newsreels

Still getting used to the twenty-first century, Steve comforts himself with memories of long-gone friends. But Howard Stark, the man Steve remembers, is nothing like the man he sees in the newsreels.

we're all choir boys at best

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

You are totally getting laid tonight. "Please stop talking." You hijacked my brain first, this is totally not my fault.

Epistaxis

Steve doesn't worry the first time he gets a bloody nose that won't quit. But when it happens a second, third, fourth... He, and his teammates, start to get concerned.

You Close Your Eyes and the Glory Fades

His body isn’t his own, he knows that, knew before the procedure that everything would change. That was the easiest thing to wrap his head around, actually, the physical changes. He’s used to his body betraying him, so this is just another thing to learn his way around. But the colors of everything, even the sliver of blue sky he could see, craning his head at the tiny window, look different.

Looking For Answers (From The Great Beyond)

After the Battle of New York is over, and Loki and the tesseract are returned to Asgard, Steve takes a road trip across the country, and tries to figure out what he wants to do next.

Mourning the Future

Steve's ties to the past and the future are pretty tenuous, and the serum ensures he lives in an eternal present state of ever-youthful vigour. When an old war buddy gets handed his last marching orders, Steve has to wonder if everyone will eventually leave.

Riviera Life

Sam and Steve have been traversing Europe looking for Bucky. Not everyone is convinced it isn’t an open invitation road trip.

Voluntary Bros.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

"Dude, you could be twins, they tested you before they defrosted you to see if you were a clone or something, or if he was a clone," Clint said.

"I want to talk to him, I think. I mean, a girl threw her latte at me last week for not calling her back and this dude felt me up at an art gallery yesterday," Steve said.

Two Brooklynites and One Big Apple

Pairings: Miles Morales & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

“You did good out there today,” Captain America said, brushing a layer of detritus from his unfathomably broad shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”

“Not if I see you first,” replied Miles, fingergunning with one hand as he sent a web rope fwipping off into the distance with the other, catapulting himself away at tremendous speed.

... in which two superheroes battle with bad guys, embark on community art lessons, and a friendship forms along the way.

Battle Fatigue

Steve thought he was doing okay. Things weren't going great, but they were fine, manageable even, and then suddenly they weren't.

We Become New Yorkers (or: Five Times Steve Rogers Looked For Home, and One Time Home Found Him)

New York is a million cities at the same time. This is how Steve found his.

A beautiful day in the neighborhood

In which Steve and Peter learn that the best way to get through a bad situation is together. And to avoid collapsing buildings. And that concussions are terrible, terrible things.

Leviticus 25

"You want to save Bucky Barnes? You are going to have to put your own house in order first because he is going to need a rock to cling to. You are not ready to be that rock for him. You owe it to him -- and more importantly, you owe it to yourself -- to figure things out, figure out how you can be happy in this time and place, whether or not Barnes is with you."

Strike

Sometimes the road to recovery involves bowling. Conveniently, so does the one to the Grand Canyon.

Conversation in Wakanda

“I have been told that you had the privilege to share a training session with some of our Dora Milaje,” T’Challa says. “May I ask how it went?”

“Well,” the Captain huffs. “There’s no polite way to say it: I had my ass handed to me. Repeatedly.”

He sounds and looks utterly delighted.

Contact Light

Everyone thought computers would be the thing that really blew Steve's mind about the 21st century. They were wrong. When he finds out that he missed the moon landing, it's the start of an ongoing obsession with space that maybe involves Neil deGrasse Tyson, Twitter, and Star Trek marathons.

Twenty-Two

“This is Lucky,” Clint said when a dog got between him and Natasha. Lucky’s vest was bright, like desert mornings and night explosions.

“Does he help?” Natasha asked.

Clint pressed his hands flat on the counter behind him. “He saved my life.”

Natasha looked at Steve, her expression fierce. Steve resisted the urge to yank down his sleeves. Instead, he dug his nails into the puckered skin on his forearms.

AKA An AU in which Steve is a veteran just trying to survive (or not).

Gray

Peter doesn't expect Steve to show up at his house one night when he gets home from school. He also doesn't expect to have a long conversation with him, and choose to be on his side instead.

We're Happy, Free, Confused, and Lonely at the Same Time.

"Tony isn't sure, but he *thinks* Steve Rogers is going to try and argue with him about not being a kid, while wrapped up in a fluffy blanket and plaid pyjama pants watching a Disney movie. Tony really hopes that is the case. The Captain America voice looses all affect when wrapped up in that blanket and Tony can't wait to inform him as such." - The one where Tony realises that Captain America and Steve Rogers are not the same person, and Steve is so much younger then he thought.

This Isn't A Love Song, This Isn't A Fable

Steve's not OK with people's perception of Captain America, no matter what he says or how much he pretends otherwise. It's like no one in this time period realizes that there's more to him than a spangly outfit. And yes, he's including the Avengers in that. ... or, the one where everything's all right, until it's not.

it's safe here in our new world

Post TWS. In which Natasha and Steve go shopping, have Thursday night movie nights, and learn that Natasha loves to platonically kiss Steve. Which is good, because Steve loves being platonically kissed by Natasha.

Shadowboxing

Pairings: Matt Murdock & Steve Rogers

It doesn’t matter how many times you fall – what matters most is how many times you get back up. Steve Rogers knew this lesson far too well and it was one Matt Murdock had endured all his life. With both men at their lowest, could a chance friendship bring each of them to their feet again?

Everybody Eats When They Come to My House

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“You’ll ruin your dinner,” Sam says, gesturing with Steve with his spatula.

i fear for the calendar; its days are numbered

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Before she goes off the grid, Natasha gives Steve her phone number. He’s honored that he’s the only one to be trusted with it, but quickly learns that she spends most of her free time texting him Dad jokes.

Status Quo Ante

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

A tale in which Sam suspects he should be used to this by now, for values of 'this' that involve certain folks he hangs out with and situations he finds himself in, Team Cap becomes Team Ex-Cap becomes TBD, and nobody but Clint really wants to know what happened to Scott Lang's GI Joes. (Sam Wilson from the final scene to the mid-credits scene.)

The Glass Parade

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

Steve thinks that he’s seen Natasha be at least three different people in the short time he’s known her, and he isn’t sure which one is real.

In which the most confusing part of the future is how much Steve has in common with Natasha, and the fact that she seems dead-set on being his friend.

Still Life

Steve Rogers and a very modern form of art therapy. (The one where Steve draws himself out of despair and into some notoriety when his cartoons hit the internet, but he's still not allowed to look at Tumblr without an okay from Pepper.)

Selective Service

The serum's given Steve a lot, but it hasn't taken anything away from him. Not even the things he never wanted in the first place.

I'm a Hustler, Baby

Steve Rogers has a talent for pool--and for making others believe he's terrible at it.

The Healing Properties of Felt-Tip Pens

Rapid healing has worked wonders on Steve Rogers' body, but occasionally it really screws with his head. In the aftermath of torture, Bruce Banner helps Steve to reconcile mind and body.

If I Die Before I Wake

It's his job, as their leader, to endure the sadistic focus of their captor, and that is the one thought that carries Steve through.

Even Gods Do

Captain America doesn't have a good relationship with sleep anymore. Also, he's not a toy.

Under My Skin

Written for a prompt on avengerkink: I want to see something where, for whatever reason, Steve's accelerated healing turns out to be a bad thing. Something where the faster healing is making things worse. I would prefer something other than the standard, super-healing allows for more torture without death. “He's lucky – to have the serum, to have you all.” Tony wasn't sure about that first part. When one faced death and destruction every day on the job, there were many advantages to having a healing factor...and a great many disadvantages as well.

A Glossary of the 21st Century

Pairings: pre-Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

Steve's sick of not understanding what's going on, and the team are not all that helpful, so he starts keeping an illustrated notebook for further research. With the help of wiki, google and Logan he starts to settle in and find his place in the twenty-first century.

Blanket Gift Policy

“You didn’t,” Bucky said, with no real hope of being contradicted. Clint shrugged helplessly and passed him the large, soft bundle wrapped in shiny purple foil.

“Sorry.” Tony covered his eyes with one hand.

“I’m getting a migraine.”

“So,” Bruce said wearily, “counting Clint, me, Bucky, Tony, and Sam, that brings it up to five.”

“Excuse you, mine’s not a blanket,” Sam said. “Mine’s a slanket. Big difference.”

Bucky resisted the urge to throw the whole heap of parcels at Sam’s head. “Because it has sleeves? It’s still a blanket, Wilson. They’re all blankets. Even Thor’s direct-from-Asgard raven gift delivery was a cloak, which just means it’s a blanket with a strap. We all got Steve a goddamn blanket.”

One Tin Soldier

Written for a prompt at avengerkink: Because really, under any other circumstances, why would they follow him when he's some guy who's younger than the rest of them (time as a Capsicle aside), who goes around wearing that spangly outfit, who's not even used to the modern world? Why Steve Rogers, rather than a Norse god or the CEO of Stark Industries or anyone else?

“Love is for children,” she'd said, but respect knew no such bounds. The five times the Avengers accepted Steve as their leader, and the one time they followed without question.

and if there's life we'll see it

Steve is instantly taken with this idea of having the picture of the person calling you flash on your screen when they ring your cell.

Secure Your Own Oxygen Mask (Before Assisting Others)

Steve keeps going, because they need him. Being Captain America - having the serum - is a responsibility and a privilege he takes seriously, and he won't waste it by sitting around resting in the middle of a crisis. But then the work is over, and the original victims of the crisis aren't the only ones needing looking after.

Way of the Eagle

Clint introduces Steve to kung-fu movies. Things escalate quickly.

Walking Wounded

In the aftermath of the battle against the Chitauri, Steve's doing just fine. Until he's not. Fortunately, Thor is a perfect mother-hen, Tony makes decent back-up, JARVIS is a genius, and Soap Operas are life-changing. (Or, Post-Shawarma Feels.)

[bleep-bleep-richie]

part one

part two

He's not panicking.

Just because he knows Eddie had court at 9am and they had plans to talk at lunch, and it's now 7pm and he still hasn't called.

Nope, definitely not panicking.

He isn't pacing the apartment either. No, he's just taking a leisurely stroll back and forth across his living room. There's just nothing good on TV. He isn't panicking, there's no reason to panic.

He had texted him at 1 and, after getting no answer, again at 5. He picks his phone up where he'd thrown it not even five minutes ago face down on the couch. He swipes his way to his messages.

Nothing.

He clicks "💖Edwardo💖" and scrolls through their messages from the last couple days. He sighs and clicks the text box.

Hey, I'm gonna stay up until I hear from you, so call me whenever.

He sends it and throws the phone to the side, collapsing against the back of his sofa. He picks up his laptop, clicks on the video chat app, and stares at the stupid picture Eddie had chosen as his icon. The edge of his mouth lifts in spite of the sick churning in his stomach. "Eddie fucking Kaspbrak," he mumbles with a shake of his head. He's still looking at Eddie's picture when he starts to doze off.

He has no idea how much time has gone by when he's woken up by the sound of a call coming through his computer. His vision's blurry, he pushes his glasses back up on his face, and sees Eddie's smile way too close to the camera. He accepts the call. "What the fuck, man?"

"Richie!" Eddie cries. "Did I wake you? You said you were staying up."

Richie stretches and yawns before picking the laptop up and putting it on his coffee table. "Guess I fell asleep." He narrows his eyes. "Where are you?"

"Out! With Matt!"

Richie wants to ask who the hell Matt is but the camera is on the guy before he gets the chance.

"Look, Matt, it's my boyfriend," he hears Eddie say, "the guy I was telling you about!"

Richie has a moment of disconnect. "Uh," he says cleverly.

Matt leans closer. "Wait, holy shit, you really are Richie Tozier." He grins. "When Eddie said he was dating a celebrity, I didn't believe him."

"Fuck you!"

"Uh, hi?" Richie says. He's still reeling from 'boyfriend' and 'dating.' "Sorry, who are you again?"

Eddie turns the phone back, his face swims into view unsteadily. "My new manager! I hired him last week, he's gonna manage the New York branch when I leave."

"Okay, you're screaming."

"I'm celebrating!" he yells, raising a glass. He knocks it back and drains it to prove his point.

It's loud, Richie can hear the sounds of other people talking and laughing. He guesses they're in a bar. "Can you go outside or something? I can barely hear you."

Eddie's nodding as he gets to his feet. "Shit, yeah, sorry," he says when he swallows. "Matt, I'll be right back."

"Take your time, boss. Nice to meet you, Mr. Tozier!"

Richie makes a face. "Did he just call me Mister Tozier?"

Eddie laughs. He leans against the cool bricks of the building once he gets outside. "Yeah, he's like that."

"So," Richie starts after a beat, "how'd it go?"

"Oh! We found a place!"

"A place?"

"Yeah, an office building," Eddie replies excitedly. "Matt found it on the computer. And! He put up an ad for people to email me their resumes. It was so much easier than I was making it, big shocker there, right."

Richie tilts his head for a second. "That's fantastic, Eds, but what about court?"

"Oh, oh! Richie!" Eddie's smile splits his face. "She signed the papers! She dropped everything she was asking for, a share in the company, all the alimony. She told me on the way out it's because she's already engaged, and all I could think was 'that poor schmuck." He laughs, open and cheerful. Richie doesn't know if he's ever seen him so happy.

"Wow, that's awesome. Congratulations."

Something in his voice must give him away. Eddie's eyes soften and his smile fades. "Oh, Rich, I'm so sorry. I was supposed to call. I was just so excited to get everything done, we worked right through lunch. I'm booking a flight to LA tomorrow. Richie, we're going to he together before the end of the week." His eyes are so bright and happy, Richie wants to drown himself in them.

"That's- Wow, Eds, that's amazing." He pauses. "You're amazing." Eddie's eyes start to water and Richie figures he must be way drunker than he's letting on. "Wait, how are you video chatting from your phone?"

Eddie blinks. "Oh, there's an app for it."

"Yes, I know there's an app for it. How in the hell did you know there was an app for it? The only app you have on your phone is a calculator."

"Matt downloaded it for me. I saw your text and mentioned I needed to call you, so he showed me how to do it."

"That's great," Richie says flatly. "Matt's great."

"Yeah, he really is a whiz at the technology stuff."

"That's what happens when you hire a 20 year old."

"He's 25." He considers Richie a moment. "Wait, what was that?"

"What was what?"

Eddie eyes him. "That tone was hostile and, like, jealous. Are you-"

"I'm definitely not jealous."

Eddie's eyes widen. "You're lying! That's your lying face!"

"I have a lying face?" Richie asks, raising his eyebrows.

"You do, and you're making it right now. Why would you be jealous of Matt?"

"I'm not!" he protests. He sighs. "I dunno, man, it's just like, the most important day of your life and that's who you're celebrating with."

"Richie," Eddie says. His voice is gentle, like trying to coax a wild animal into a cage. It makes Richie want to punch a wall at how ridiculously easy it is for Eddie to turn him to mush. "I would rather celebrate with you than anyone in the world. But, baby, you're not here."

Richie's mind short circuits so hard over the word 'baby' that it takes him a full 30 seconds to process the rest of that sentence. He scoffs a laugh, completely humorless. "Yeah, and whose fault is that?"

Eddie's face crumbles and he looks down and away from the camera, like he's ashamed. Like Richie is embarrassing him.

He instantly feels like a jackass. "I'm sorry, Eds, I'm not trying to rain on your parade. I was just worried, when you didn't call."

"I said I was sorry. I got busy."

"I texted you three times," Richie replies. He feels like a petulant housewife who spent all day cooking a dinner that her husband never came home to eat. He guesses that's exactly how he sounds, too.

Eddie turns his sad eyes on Richie. "I didn't even look at my phone until like fifteen minutes ago. I called as soon as I saw them."

"I know, I know." He shakes his head. "'I'm sorry, 'm being a dick."

Eddie smirks. "Imagine that."

Richie breathes out his nose and wills himself not to be angry. Always understanding, never upset. Always with a joke but never with a complaint. How he's been all year, all his life with Eddie, if he's honest with himself. Never too emotional or serious, just in case it overwhelms. "I'll let you get back. Just let me know when you book your flight, I'll clean the guest room."

"The guest room?" Eddie's face falls. "I have to sleep in my own room? You're that mad that I forgot to call?"

"No, it's not- I just didn't want to assume-"

"Or is it because I'm out with Matt?" Eddie continues like Richie hadn't even spoken. "Because I barely even know him, Rich. I was just in a good mood and we both needed to eat. It doesn't- I don't know if he's even gay."

Richie feels green. "He's cute," he says neutrally. "He's there. You're drunk."

"Richie."

He shakes his head, rubs his palms against the denim on his knees. "I know, I know. I'm being stupid because I miss you and I missed today and I- I'm sorry."

Eddie eyes go big and wistful. "I would never- Rich, I've spent the entire time since I've met him waxing poetic about you. Besides business shit, you're the only thing we've talked about. He's probably getting sick of it, honestly."

The sudden leap of his stomach makes him want to puke. "It's okay, Eds, you don't have to-"

"Richie," Eddie cuts him off. He pulls the phone closer to his face. "Richie, I'm crazy about you. You know, sometimes-" He laughs, blushes, glances away for a second. Richie wants to look at him forever. "Somtimes after we hang up, I jerk off to the memory of the sound of your voice. It's kind of pathetic. I'm completely gone on you, is the point I'm making."

"I-" he stops himself. He'd sworn at least a hundred times over the passed year that he wasn't going to say it until Eddie is in front of him. And he's going to keep that promise. "You're- you're everything, sweetheart. I- You know how I feel about you, don't you, Eddie?"

Eddie's smile is blinding. "Yeah, I think you waiting on me for almost a year while I got my shit together is a pretty big clue."

Richie grins back.

"I have to go settle the tab," Eddie says after a moment.

"You could call me," Richie tells him, "when you get back to your room. Jerk off to my actual voice, instead of the memory. I could say something worth jerking off to."

Pink rises on Eddie's cheekbones and flushes down onto his neck, right where Richie wants to bite him. "Thanks, now I have to go back in there at half mast."

"Oh, you are so very welcome. No need to thank me. The pleasure's all mine, really." The sad thing is, he isn't lying. Nothing gets him going faster than the mere idea that Eddie wants him. The evidence of it, the confession, has him rock hard in his pants already.

"You're insufferable."

"Insatiable, Edward. The word is insatiable."

Eddie rolls his eyes with a chuckle. "I'm going to call you in 45 minutes," he promises.

Richie nods. "I'll have my script ready. The never ending list of things I'd do to corrupt the pure and innocent Eddie Kaspbrak."

"Insufferable!" He pauses, still smiling even though he's griping. "45 minutes."

"I'll be here, Eds." He flushes with the honesty of it. "I'll always be here."

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Thurs 18 March ‘21

The Zayn/ Zach Sang interview is happening, for real this time (fingers crossed)! It’s scheduled for tomorrow!! Zach promises to ask lots of NIL questions. And I really believe it’ll happen this time, Zayn OUT THERE doing promo-- he did multiple radio spots yesterday and answered every question thrown his way however stupid, even throwing caution to the wind and taking on the one they’re all always trying to avoid (though not so far to the wind as to choose any of the other options each of which would be a scandal in a different way- you can take the boy out of the media training but...)- “I’ll tell you what,” he said, “Niall is my favorite. How about that? There you go. Niall makes the best music. Yeah I will say that he makes better music than me. Yeah, I’m a Niall fan." About the grammys he said, “It's nothing to do with my own personal gain because even if they nominated me at this stage, I wouldn't even go and accept the award because it doesn't mean anything to me.”

Zayn talked about how he just wanted to do a song with Ingrid, he didn’t know what, “I didn’t expect it to be anything less than great but it was better than that… it hit the nail on the head” and “the fact that it’s an important message in the song makes it better.” He also said that he listens to a lot of country music and would really like to collab with Chris Stapleton. OKAY! TBH I can hear how that makes sense- amazing, I am manifesting this, come on universe! He also said that he will have new music this year in an old school R&B style though and that he would like to do live shows after the pandemic!! If I didn’t think he was just saying things I would be LOSING MY MIND right now but omg WHAT IF?? He said Khai is an easy baby, a good sleeper and eater, that he likes singing to her, and that Gigi is a “wicked mom” and “a big help,” LMAO (RIP Zayn, strangled by his baby mama). RCA posted a couple more gorgeous new Zayn pics, and Ingrid raves about how Zayn’s fans are “the sweetest most supportive people” and she feels “like I’ve been hugged by a million stars today.” Am I to understand that it’s possible for stans to treat a woman working with their fave with kindness?? My mind is REELING!

Hopefully Harry has had enough time to process having achieved a great industry honor, because yesterday brought another- he was on Beyonce’s insta! She included a picture of the two of them talking backstage in her big grammys wrap up post (plus he’s visible behind her in a shot of her winning- say what you will about the orange jacket it’s great for visibility!) And Lil NasX, perfect as always, has something to say about Harry too- he says “stop using me as a bait against harry styles. I love harry, if y’all fw what I wear say it without mentioning him,” and posts a couple examples of the types of tweets he means such as “we have GOT to stop acting like Harry Styles is a male fashion icon when lil nas x is right there.” Stop pitting girls against each other2k21! Nas gets it, bless him. Oh yeah and an old pap video from DWD set of Harry going into Olivia’s trailer posted which I ignored because it was so completely uninteresting but apparently that’s a BIG DEAL to some people. My bad! You’re so right, the only reason someone would possibly go into a room with a coworker is obviously that they’re fucking! They probably had sex right there while the paps were outside! I mean there were a bunch of other people visibly in the trailer too but whatever. Oh and as long as we’re doing nonsense catch up- he was seen with a FEMALE in Malibu the other night omgggg they’re clearly dating. Oh but actually it might have been Mitch! LMAO, but that’s okay we can have discourse about how they’re obviously fucking anyway cause like… dinner! TOGETHER!! The scandal.

Anyway Louis has a message for us, can you guess what it is? Yes that’s right-- “Hope everyone's doing alright!!” No matter how many times he says it, I still love the hello, thanks love (even if it was an afterthought and he was actually there to follow a crypto currency trading account). A bunch of old videos of him were posted today, including one from 2019 where Louis says about acting in his music videos “I wasn’t acting it’s who I am hahahaha” (ahhhhh I miss that laugh) and he’s on the wall of a THIRD MUSEUM! Louis is Art pt lll-- A Doncaster history timeline at the local museum has a big entry for Doncaster’s finest export, labeled “Louis Tomlinson Achieves Super Stardom”! Earlier entries were his face (hung up high) in the National Portrait Gallery and the science museum employee who saw their chance and took it by crediting a mushroom joke to him, a deep Video Diaries reference in the year of 2019; whoever that unknown louie is I hope they are having a very nice day every day, what a hero.

And a photodump from Zayn’s favorite member of OT4! Labeled DUMP (charming thank you) Niall posts an assortment of selfies (that sunglasses one! Ashe agrees, commenting “photo number four thank you very much”) and aesthetic pics and one tiny snippet of a piano tune, and speaking of photodumps from favorites of Zayn’s, a BUNCH of outtakes from Liam’s Grinder Tetu photoshoot just got posted and if I were a gay man I’m pretty sure I would have just had a heart attack, view with care they should probably be PG13.

[reddeadreference]

Blog Progress Update (Travel Blog Style 😎#10)

Doing Beau Grey's mission and I had to stop because Arthur's face as he listens to Beau go on and on about the love of his life. My heart… ow…

(Yes I actually spent the time to make the video above... I have too much time on my hands...)

Saw Kieran's fishing mission pop up. Went to Lagras. Realized I hadn't spoken to Mr. Gill yet. Took the camp boat across the lake. Ran back to fast travel to Lagras again. It was night. Helped a man get his home back from nite Folk. Forgot why I went to Lagras in the first place and fast traveled back to camp, remembered AS Arthur was kicking out the fire.

Back to Lagras, got the lures, back to camp .. and now instead Javier is ready to fish…

Wait, hold up… someone explain to me why I just PAID Grimshaw for making me clean up….

Alrighty fishing with Javi…

Javier: Slowly…slowly...

Arthur: *furiously reeling in the fish*

Javier: Bruh…

I was ready to just sleep to the next day to see if Kieran's mission popped back up… but then Molly called me over.. I refuse to ignore her even if Arthur will ultimately ignore her anyways…

Always interesting when Uncle is involved in missions… anyone else pronounce Lumbago like Trivago (lum-bah-go instead of lum-bay-go) because of that meme? Just me? Kay…

Went to go do the two debtors we got. Poor Gwyn… poor Mrs. Claypole….

Poor Winton… you never ever split up in a cave or horror situation of any kind.

“You’re supposed to be goin the other way”... I… I DID. I just didn't investigate the sound… I’m just tryin to save your life buddy… buh-bye… we tried Arthur, we tried…

Okay people in this camp need to stop looking so damn pretty I have so many filtered photos now it’s ridiculous…. (Idk if I should post them on this blog or my alt rdr blog… I have little collages made, each person with one filter each: Mary-Beth Red Pass, Tilly Yellow, Karen Blue, Sadie Western, Abigail Bleach Bypass, Molly Two-Split. Can't figure out which to use for Grimshaw… I was between Battlefield and Health Tonic for Kieran. )

DAMN IT ARTHUR I wanna GREET Kieran not yell at the poor boy!

The icon appeared for fishing with Kieran and then locked and then I saw him walking over with his fishing rod and it unlocked again and…. BOI the whirlwind of emotions I just went through. (Just watching the scene, this boy makes me do happy arm flaps XD. "Not much of a fisherman" "but I AM") I was taking a photo of him on his horse… and both our horses look high af XD

Caught the big bluegill ^-^ he was excited. Walked him all the way back to camp because I was curious because he started going in the complete opposite direction of camp. He went through the Braithwaite's field (we got yelled at by a guard ..) to the road. We passed by two men blowing open a safe… ended how you expected. Explosions really echo and reach far in the game don't they..

I'm pretty much putting off going into town to see Dutch for as long as possible so onto Lenny's mission!

Lenny mah boah!

Went into Rhodes to finally do the moonshine mission and I find a drunk man on a bench. Time to burn some stuff.

One question… did we have to STAB the damn squatters???

Anyway, I got that over with and went back to town. On my way to the mission I heard a woman behind the gunsmith, Arthur saved her. But of course me getting into a fight went against Dutch's "don't cause problems in town" rule. Arthur comes out from behind the building and sees Dutch and Bill on their horses… running away… neat detail, didn't know that would happen. Waited a bit and finally did the moonshine mission. Raced Dutch back and left him in the dust!! Haha! Like there was a good inch between us on the mini map.

Ah the genuine fun and good times..

--

I found a youtube channel that “datamined” the game to get clean versions of the songs (clean as in no background noise) so I’ll be able to make song posts with lyrics with those videos (obviously the videos will link to that channel still so it's not like I'm reposting the video itself) so I'm gonna start working on those soon.