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sw1mmingfoolz · 3 years ago

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🍌 bananas 4 u - lee felix 🍌

requested? Y/N

genre: domestic fluff (they're baking together and having a ball), once again me getting overly poetic about little situations

content warnings: like one mildly dirty joke that kinda implies reader is an afab anatomy haver (but can be interpreted differently if you so choose, i have explained this poorly lol)

pairing: felix x reader

wc: 1.7k

a/n: my mouth n head still hurt from dental anaesthetic lol today was a busy day :') i baked banana bread and was inspired as always so i again wrote something insanely gooey and oddly poetic. is it the best thing i've ever written? no, but it is warm n fuzzy, and that's what i'm going for rn with my sore mouth and sleep deprived disposition lmao 😌 feedback is always very appreciated and encouraged, it keeps us writing after all! all the love 💞💞

Felix had to know you weren’t annoyed with him.

Cancelled plans were common; he was a busy guy after all. You didn’t really tend to see them as commitments anymore anyway - just ideas for ways you could spend the time together should he end up actually having any to spare. When he walked into the dimly lit living room and saw you curled up watching TV—enthralled face illuminated by harsh artificial light glaring from the screen—and saw the understanding look in your eyes when you eventually did look up at him with a sincere smile, he had to know that you got it, and it didn’t bother you in the slightest.

So why had he apologised like, twenty times already?

You asked yourself the question silently, mulling it over, tossing it around in your brain as he dropped another apology into the collection you kept a relatively noncommittal count of in the back of your mind. You asked yourself again as he set to washing his hands, to decorating the countertops with bags and tubs, to washing the few dishes in the sink and scrubbing down the stovetop to make a tidy working area. And you asked yourself again as he preheated the oven the way his phone told him to, focused as he pulled butter from the fridge and checked the ingredients list once more.

“Aren’t you tired?” You finally managed to ask after what felt like a lifetime of perplexed observation, quirking an eyebrow at him as he finally stopped his rapid prepping and stood in front of you to hold your gaze.

“Kinda,” he shrugged, planting a ghost of a kiss on your nose with curved up lips. “But I promised we’d try this banana bread recipe today, and I feel horrible for constantly letting you down.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that it doesn’t bother me?” You chuckled, returning his nose kiss before going to wash your own hands. You’d protest, and reassure him, and insist you could wait for another day; but you knew he’d be unrelenting as ever as he pulled the food scales from a cupboard next to the oven and checked how clean they were against the overhead light. “I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to date an idol, y’know.”

“Still,” he pouted, face impossibly cute as he again stopped simply to look at you while he spoke. “I don’t want you to feel ignored, or like I don’t care, or like I don’t want to spend time with you.”

“Lee Felix, do not make me kiss your nose again,” you spoke with faux warning in your voice, eyebrows raised pointedly. He grinned, feigning fear.

“Yeah, that would be terrible,” he snorted, rolling his eyes, to which you could only think to respond by peppering his face in tiny kisses. The giggles he let out with every peck were so sonorous they felt like a soft caress to your eardrums, sounds you were sure could only come from angels themselves. Perhaps if you looked hard enough you’d find wings scattering trails of feathers as soft as his smile, and as dazzling as the glint in his eyes. You kept his face cupped in your hands as you finished your barrage, eyes boring into his with a palpable seriousness.

“I love what we have, regardless of how many plans we end up cancelling. We always make new ones, and they end up being my fondest memories, so please. Don’t beat yourself up over it when I don’t even mind.”

“Okayyyy,” he drawled, pouting once more in a silent request for yet another kiss, which you happily accepted. “I’m really in the mood to bake now, though. You don’t have to join if you’re too tired.” You looked at the time on the oven display beaming lazily at you, by now past midnight, and shrugged.

“We’re here now, might as well.” He looked so overjoyed at your participation that he looked about ready to burst, swelling your heart to feel quite the same. You took his phone to scan the recipe he’d sent you a few days ago (with accompanying insistence you make it together) and surveyed the countertops to make sure nothing was missing before starting to make small talk about his day as you both assumed roles without needing to discuss them.

You began melting butter in a Pyrex jug and beating an egg in a cup while Felix set about mashing the bananas you’d spent so long ripening with overdramatic tenses of his arm muscles whenever he caught you looking, chuckling at your unabashed awe every time. He was the same while mixing, jostling you slightly as you weighed out dry ingredients and screeching when you threw a small handful of flour into his hair and face in retaliation. Baking with him always went this way, airy laughs and lighthearted tomfoolery alighting your kitchen with a weighted atmosphere of warmth and light, aptly settling alongside indulgent aromas of whatever you’d decided to attempt that week. Your entire apartment was forever alive with a buzzing, jubilant kind of love, still budding and beginning to bloom akin to the freshest, most fragrant blooms of spring, and that was undisputedly concentrated in your kitchen a lot of the time.

He shook the flour you’d so meticulously dusted him with at you, a fine snow tickling your skin and erupting peals of unbridled laughter from deep within your lungs. It caused him to join in just as vivaciously, stomachs aching as you strained to keep the baking session somewhat on track, trembling hands and shaking shoulders sending specks of sugar across the counter to join the mess he’d already made. You knew when all was said and done a lot of the tidying up would probably be left to you tomorrow, though you couldn’t find it in you to care when you were having so much fun.

“Do you think this is too much?” You asked, showing him the bag of macadamia nuts in your hand. He hummed, more focused on stirring everything together as it thickened enough to give him a decent forearm workout, and shook his head distractedly.

“Nah, there aren’t that many,” he responded after a second, to which you poured the entire contents of the bag in at his reassurance. He blinked, stunned, at the small yet significant pile they formed on the top of his expertly blended mixture, the reality of what he’d implicitly told you to do setting in as his body again began to shiver with tired waves of laughter. “Maybe there were more than I thought.”

“At least we both like them,” you responded with a snort, watching them slowly disappear as Felix began moving his arm again. You followed them with walnut halves, causing him to yelp in surprise, head shaking as he continued stirring resignedly.

“You were supposed to cut those up,” his overdone sigh was sardonic, but his impish grin betrayed his admittedly weak act of irritation. “And that’s so many nuts.”

“I mean, we’re making two loaves, so maybe they’ll spread out?” You shrugged, lining long tins with paper liners and gesturing for him to start pouring as you held the sides rigid. “It smells good. Besides, if it’s too much for you, that means more for me.”

“I never said it was too much,” he derided, focusing the best he could on dividing the mixture evenly. “I can out-nut you any day of the week baby.”

“biologically speaking? I beg to differ,” you responded instantly, great effort going into keeping your voice steady as you earned the shocked, wide-eyed look you’d both expected and desired. The atmosphere continued to wind down, but lively laughter remained a constant as you continued throwing things into the bowl.

The tins went into the oven, its small encapsulating warmth a mini imitation of the bubble you and Felix had expertly crafted for yourselves, where time seemed to stand still and glances and giggles seemed to say more than words ever could. He set a timer on his phone, taking the opportunity he saw in finally having free hands to pull you into his arms and wrap them tightly around you. You smiled as you pressed a kiss to his forehead, both of you beaming between each other, eyes twinkling with unadulterated adoration. Minutes were flying by in throes as you switched continuously between clinging to one another as if every kiss would be the last, talking about every random thing that came to mind and peering impatiently into the small glowing window you never strayed very far from.

As always, the vaguely consistent sickly sweet smell surrounded you in your joy, sugar teasing at the tips of your tongues as they darted out to wet the lips you so diligently kept against one anothers’ at every moment that allowed it. Your stomach yearned for the bread to finish baking already, yet by comparison your heart already felt so full. It thrummed happily in its bony cage like a bird in song, calling out to Felix’s and waiting for its equally resonant reply. Call and response, soft and trusting, connected so inherently within the space you crafted for yourselves in time to simply be with one another; to exist in love, and to feel sure the melodies would not silence any time soon.

You helped each other tidy up as cracks began to form in the hardening surface of the baked goods, rinsing dishes to be washed properly in the afternoon when you would muster the energy and countertops once again being wiped clean. After storing away the remaining butter he took your hand in his, face soft as he pulled you flush to him and began swaying with you to nothing but the faint buzzing of the dazzling light coming from the fridge and the tap dripping idly in the corner. You smirked as you rested your head on his chest, searching for that songbird, searching for its exuberance.

“We’re doing this trope now?” You hummed contentedly, frankly too comfortable in the easygoing happiness to mock all too much. He chuckled into a kiss to your head, twirling with a languid flair.

“We’ve covered so many of them already, why not tick some more boxes?” He grinned, holding you just a little tighter. His phone’s timer would go off soon, and you’d break from the bubble just a little to finish the job, but for now you allowed yourself to revel in heady delight as you danced to the tunes your entwined hearts passionately sang.

#stray kids #lee felix #skz #stray kids fluff #felix fluff #skz fluff #stray kids felix #stray kids x reader #felix x reader #skz x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #felix scenarios #felix imagines #skz scenarios #skz imagines

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fatbottombucky · 5 years ago

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Three’s Company *Ransom Drysdale x Reader*

Summary: M!Reader’s girlfriend, Ella, wants a threesome. After discovering it’s going to be with another dude you set some ground rules, a clear rule being “no gay shit!”. Despite not being gay, yourself and Ransom find yourselves intently wanting Ella to be gone throughout the fucking.

Pairings: Male!Reader x Female Original Character/ Ransom Drysdale x Male!Reader / Ransom Drysdale x Female Original Character

Rating: [+18] Explicit

Warnings: Internal homophobia. Threesome shenanigans, female and male oral-giving and receiving. degrading talk. Swear words. Two men wanting to fuck one another, but they can’t cause of their internal homophobia.

Word Count: 2854

Note: There’s nothing against gays in this, lmao I am gay. It’s just mostly reader and ransom wanting to fuck but being like “we shouldn’t cause we’re straight! But I am going to look directly into his eyes as this girl sits on my dick!”

“When you said threesome I expected another female to be joining us,” you exasperated.

It was only a week ago when your girlfriend of eight months had propositioned you with the idea of a threesome. It had caught you off guard, nonetheless you agreed wholeheartedly. You weren’t a guy to shy away from sex adventures, you’ve seen and done plenty with women.

It’s what made Daniella, or Ella to you, so interested in you. You aren’t exactly in her social class, she comes from old money and has a trust fund, whereas you come from- well, no money and you work everyday of your life just to scrape by. You’ve often had the thought she’s only with you to rebel against her family, bringing you along to social gatherings to cause a fuss. It’s whatever. She’s beautiful and nice, so you’re willing to go along because, hey, you’re not alone then.

What caught you off guard was the third member she wanted, a male. You expected one of her high-class girlfriends, they’ve always had a keen interest in your relationship with Ella. Wondering why she’d be with you and for so long.

“Hell, no.” Ella grimaces like the thought of kissing another girl is repulsive, “I’d prefer to have another guy having their way with me.”

There’s a glint in her eyes, a playfulness. Her fluttering lashes normally work on you but not this time.

You’re apprehensive. The photo of the man in question serves him well; sharp jawline, piercing blue eyes and a wicked smirk, he oozes some sinful confidence that you severely lack. Who even is this guy? Where did she even meet him? Had this guy been the reason all along for the threesome to be brought up?

“Ransom Drysdale,” Ella smirks and flicks her eyes back to her phone, the picture still blindly on display. You almost snap the steering wheel off, deciding to focus on driving her Audi through the bustling New York streets. “He’s in New York right now, our families know one another and I’ve always wondered if the rumours are true about him.”

Great.

This guy has a reputation and she’s been thinking about it.

“I don’t know how I feel about another guy fucking you,” you somehow get out and the way she snaps her head to you, well this is going to be a big L in your books. “Or being with a guy in this setting, so what? I thought threesomes are where we all participate but I don’t wanna be with some guy like that.”

Ella snorts, she’s laughing at you. “How would a girl be any different?”

“I don’t know, Ella, it just would be different.”

“That’s so pathetic,” you roll your eyes and just stare at the road ahead, “You don’t have to do anything with him and anything I do with him you’ll be there. In fact, you can say right now if there’s anything you don’t want to happen. I just want two dicks, that’s all.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Besides Ransom isn’t gay, so he won’t even go near you like that.”

“This is so bizarre,” you muttered and shifted in your seat beside Ella. The restaurant was fancy, super expensive and elite. You had already downed half a glass of red wine-of which you expected cost more than the suit you were wearing. “Why are we getting dinner with him?”

Ella snickered and rolled her eyes. “Good manners, babe,” voice sweet as she looks at you.

You’d done some Googling on Drysdale when you got back to the hotel earlier. Whole family is filthy rich due to his grandfather, Harlan, famous murder-mystery writer. You haven’t read any of his books because books are commitments, more so than relationships.

Ransom’s name pops up in headlines every few weeks; new girls hanging off his arms or some outlandish story being featured on tabloids.

He’s not the type you’d personally hang out with, then again, Ella isn’t the usual company you keep.

“Sorry I’m late, Ellie.” You snap your head up as Ella stands up, embracing the well-dressed man. “Traffic was shit. You guys haven’t been here long, right?”

Yourself and Ella both speak at the same time. “No, of course not.”- “Twenty minutes, actually.”

You’re gifted a bitchy glare from Ella as you stand up, you’ve never been one to shy away from speaking up. Rich people aren’t an exception to your patience. This makes Ransom smirk at you though, clearly not offended or peeved off by your remark.

He shakes your hand firmly. “Ransom Drysdale, sure you’ve heard from me.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, honestly, only just learnt who you are today.” The three of you sit down and then you go silent, staring blankly at your glass of wine because what are the rules here?

Ella had told you she had asked Ransom. So, he knows why the three of you are here. But now what? You order food and eat, wine and dine, then fuck back at the hotel and that’s it. Of course, that’s it. There’s nothing else to do, but you can’t help but think there must be more steps. Some kind of conversation that needs to happen.

If there is a conversation that needs to happen, it doesn’t happen. Ella and Ransom are deep into conversation about ‘old times’. You sit just drinking and listening, usually how it is in your relationship. You never really have anything interesting to say to the wealthy, mostly because they wouldn’t listen anyway.

“So Y/N, what do you do?” Ransom’s voice is smooth and deep, his face is illuminated by the candles in the centre of the table. You raise an eyebrow at the causal question, “what? I think it’s better than me asking, why did you agree to let me fuck your girlfriend?”

You dryly chuckle and take another sip of wine, able to hold off on the question as your meals are placed before you. You contemplate and mull over his questions, either Ella hasn’t told him that you aren’t rich or he knows but wants to goad you into it anyway.

“Well, I work a lousy job as an accountant and I’m mostly paying off my student loans from university.” Better to be truthful than stupid in front of the rich. “Before you ask, no, I’m not using my degree at this job. I studied for five years to use it for nothing. I’m also agreeing because I’m no prude, done a few things and whilst I’d prefer you be another female, I can sort of see the appeal of two dicks.”

There’s a few seconds of just silence. Ella is volleying her eyes between you both. Ransom chews his steak slowly, eyes intently watching you and looking you over. It’s intense. You want him to stop, but you don’t look away.

A smirk spreads across his face and he nods. “We’re going to have fun tonight.”

“Splurged on the room then,” Ransom smirks as he unties his scarf, pulling it off of his neck and throwing it carelessly on the back of the armchair. “Must be nice to have the finer things,” he pats your shoulder roughly and gives you a knowing smile.

You shrugged, the nerves being knocked away from the liquid courage you guys have consumed. “Can’t complain about the nice rooms we stay in.” You walk over to the minibar and nod, Ransom gives a curt nod.

Ella scurries off towards the bedroom, a sultry smile of her ‘freshening up’ for the both of you.

“She’s told you the rules, right?” You asked and poured yourself another drink, Ransom let’s out a light chuckle as he sauntered over to you. You lift an eyebrow in question, “It’s just for… boundaries really, I’m sure you understand.”

The corner of Ransom’s mouth curls up, bringing the bourbon to his lips and taking a thoughtful sip, he’s standing close to you. Rubbing his shoulder against yours, he smells earthy and expensive, like spicy leather and musky mornings.

“I got your rules, don’t worry.” Placing the tumbler glass down. “More rules about us not doing stuff than me fucking your girl, though.”

You looked at him hesitantly and quickly looked away, downing your own drink hurriedly. Before you can defend yourself, not that you need to, Ella calls for you both. Standing in the bedroom doorway, hip leaning against the frame and her arms crossed.

Ella is dressed in nothing but simply lacy lingerie, that you know cost more than your rent. She looks beautiful, the lilac set matches her skin perfectly, hair is styled into a relaxed mused style- so you can play with it, you imagine.

“Are you boys coming to join me or not?”

That’s all the invitation you need before you’re walking around Ransom, placing your hands on her hips and pressing your lips to hers softly, she whimpers into your mouth before pulling away. Taking your hand and then extending her other towards Ransom, you chance a glance at the taller man.

His cock sure smirks makes you look away, taking Ella’s other hand and she pulls you both into the bedroom. The big, soft, luxurious bed would do fine at handling your three bodies.

You glance stiffly at the white sheets, well, now what? You know what to do when with just Ella but now you’re left in uncharted territory. Turning to look at the both of them once you’re stood in front of the bed, hands getting clammy for some reason.

“Well, undressed yourselves.” Ella smirks as she sits on the end of the bed with a bounce, crossing one leg over her other, leaning back on her elbows as she looks at them.

You start to unbutton your shirt, looking over at Ransom to see he was doing the same. You don’t take your eyes off of Ransom as you remove the shirt, letting the pale blue fabric to fall to the floor and then starting on your belt. Ransom begins to do the same, the clanging of his expensive Gucci belt is enough to numb your other senses.

You're both down to your boxers, both black Calvin Klines. Ella raises an amused eyebrow and allows her legs to fall open. Lifting a hand and crooking a finger in a come hither motion, you follow with little relcultance. Falling to her side and pressing open mouth kisses to her soft neck. One of your hands sneaking up and cupping one of her lacy breasts, squeezing the flesh harshly as you suck at her neck.

Ella let out a breathy moan, a sharp gasp escaping her at Ransom running his fingers over her clothed pussy. You help her sit up and unclasp her bra, allowing her perky breasts to slip free of the confines. Ransom slips the panties down her long legs before pushing her thighs apart, slotting himself between them.

For a brief moment you are captivated by him, watching as he languidly licked up her core and wrapped his plump, pink lips wrap around his clit. The moans Ella whines out are white noise, your brows furrow together and you wet your lips. You’re about to look away but Ransom looks up, capturing your eyes in with his deep blue ones. His left eye drops down into a playful wink.

You break out of his spell and look back at Ella, her eyes are screwed shut and her mouth is open wide, moans and groans leaving her wildly. You’re quick to attach your mouth to her nipples, already pebbled and peaked into hard nubs, lavishing her nipple with your tongue.

“God, your mouths,” she breathes harshly.

Time seems to meld as yourself and Ransom tease Ella with your tongues. You tease her nipples and softly bite on them as Ransom pushes two fingers into her and sucks on her clit. You both work in tandem, almost competitively, trying to see who can draw the most noises from her.

“You sure I’m not allowed to fuck this hole?” Ransom asked punctuating the question with a forceful thrust of his fingers.

His crude words make you shiver, a smirk pulling up on your mouth as your eyes narrow in delight. He’s asking permission, he certainly seems like the type to just take what he wants, save the consequence for whenever.

“You think you’ve earned it?” That question throws Ransom off, it even has Ella raising her eyebrows at you but you don’t spare her a glance. Your eyes bore into Ransom’s, unable to look away like the previous times.

Ransom grabs Ella’s ankle and flips her onto her stomach, tapping her hip and she raises them wordlessly, he gives you a questioning glare.

“She likes it hard and deep,” you sit up on your knees, a hand softly running through her hair and gripping it tightly, “don’t hold back, Ran. I won’t be,” you pull down your boxers with your other hand and free your straining cock.

You haven’t felt this hard in a while; you put it down to the fact this is new and exciting. You push the leaking tip into Ella’s waiting mouth, she hums approvingly around your girth. A low groan falls from your lips and you look up in time to see Ransom rid himself of his own underwear.

A large hand is wrapped around his own cock, rubbing it lazily and, for some reason, you can’t take your eyes off of his member. Seeing him naked has stolen your air away; his whole body is immaculate and strong, truly a vision.

You shake your head when Ella gags around your length, slowly pulling it out of her before looking up. Ransom had caught you staring at him, but instead of a disgusted look like you thought he’s wearing a curious look. An unreadable look.

As he pushes in his impressive length he gives you a look, his hands gripping Ella’s hips tightly. The warm caven of Ella’s mouth envelopes you again, you moan loudly but you’re unable to look away from Ransom and he seems to not be able to look away from you either.

“That’s it,” Ransom grunts as he starts to pound Ella from behind causing her body to jolt, pushing her further onto your cock.

The force of his thrusting hips and yours into her mouth, using Ella to reach your peaks. Finding a hard and rough rhythm together. A pushing and pulling rhythm. You’re both grunting and groaning, looking into one another's eyes intensely.

Ella’s whimpers and gagging sounds are numb to your ears, only focused on Ransom. His eyebrows are drawn together, jaw is clenched and his eyes are hard; dark and lust filled.

“You like that?” The question momentarily makes you stutter, Ransom locked on you but Ella hums in admission.

It wasn’t directed at her, though.

You nod once, careful to only groan loudly and not make it seem that it’s going to be Ransom that’ll make you cum.

“Of course, you do!” Ransom chuckles darkly, thrusting into Ella harder and grinding his cock deep into her, “fucking filthy. Dirty little whore for me, aren’t you?” Again Ella answers in whimpers and spit slicked sounds, but you have Ransom’s attention.

“Going to cum, I can feel it. Go ahead, fuckin’ cum for me.”

Your hips stutter deep in Ella’s throat, she gags but groans at the feeling. You cum down her tight throat, copious amounts of cum spurting out of you, a strained growl is yelled from you. Eyes being forced shut at the suddenness of your orgasm.

Ella greedily swallows every drop, licking your cock clean as you slowly drag it out of her mouth and fall back against the bed. Beads of sweat across your forehead and chest, Ella looks at you and smiles before whining again. Ransom keeps going ramming into her harder and faster, his eyes still scorned onto you.

You watch as Ella reaches her peak rather quickly after you, trembling under Ransom and whimpering, you sit up and cup her face in your hands. Kissing her softly before pulling away, looking up at Ransom who has his eyes shut before looking down at you.

“Cum inside of her.” You demand without hesitation and Ransom seems to take it.

His whole body becoming rigid and spasming, hips stilling inside of Ella as he cums deep within her walls. It’s a few silent seconds of heavy breathing. Till he pulls out and sinks back on his hunches, chest heaving and hair stuck to his forehead.

Despite the fact you both had such an intimate moment during this, you can’t bring yourself to look at him in the eye now. Knowing you orgasmed because of him, that you likely got hard because of him.

It’s weird. It’s odd. Ella stretches out on the bed, a low hum of approval to what just happened coming from her.

“Give me a few minutes and we can change positions and one of you can stick it in my ass.”

A deep part of you wished she’d fall asleep and it was just yourself and Ransom.

(Let me know what you think!!! So, yeah... I am writing a part 2 where Ransom and Male Reader get some alone time and get to... do some activities ;) but I wanted it to be like this whole weird sexual competitiveness between them with little moments of mxm - Rosalie)

#ransom thrombey #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x male reader #ransom drysdale x male!reader #ransom drysdale smut #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale one shot #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut

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angelicmichael · 4 years ago

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Hoax - Prologue

Michael Langdon x Mallory

Summary: After failing to kill murder house Michael; Mallory must travel back in time to Sojourn era to try again. However; she finds to her horrific discovery that jumping through time repeatedly does not come without its consequences.

Words: 3.0k+

Warnings: Death, They both almost die (or do die) so.. a lot of describing wounds and nearly dying and that jazz ✌🏻, major wounds, lowkey a dark fic, Mallory discusses wanting to kill Michael and finds celebrates it??, angst, Mallory goes and sees his dead body, blood

A/N: this takes place right after Mallory drives away from Michael in the finale btw!! I literally didnt intend on making it this dark but it just happened LOL. I feel like most of the dark stuff is vague so.. it should still be chill. This is the first time ive written millory/character x character so please go easy on me!! I also tried to follow canon and stay accurate to details the best I could but knowing me I probably fucked up somehow LMAO but enjoy 💖💖 major plot twist is coming in the next chapter btw! Also Mallorys thots are italicized.

As soon as Mallory drove away; she knew nearly immeadietly that it was too good to be true. Things could never be this fucking easy.

She felt a pit in her stomach almost instantaneously once she was in the year 2015; Even though she couldnt decipher if the anxiety was a warning or something else.. She continued on with the dark destiny she was put on this earth to fulfull.. to kill the antichrist.

Even though she was fully aware of this; and had come to terms with what she had to do - she learned the hard way that it didnt seem to make things easier at all; like how she dreamed it would. Although, even now as she continued to speed away from the infamous 'murder house', the drop in her stomach seemed to only grow; along with her self doubt.

Was he really dead??

Did I really do it??

She knew that the answer to both of those questions should be yes; but the longer she remained driving in her car, getting farther and farther away from where the incident had occured.. she knew something was wrong.

Mallory suddenly jolted the steering wheel into a sharp left; continuing to turn it until she was doing U-Turn.. She couldnt help but to feel completly bewildered at her own actions - never doing something so impulsive, like going back to a crime scene let alone commit murder, in her life.

Although Mallory felt a bit disgusted with her recent previous actions; she couldnt help but imagine how disgusted she would feel with herself if she didnt pull this off. She mulled over the previous thoughts she had had about this moment and how dreamed it would feel; she thought she would feel joy, elated, and at peace but.. instead she still felt as if she was being suffocated by his presence.

He wasnt gone. Not yet.

She pressed her foot down on the gas, she knew she hadn't gone too far away from Michael's residence yet it seemed as if it was a millenia away. The task she was supposed to complete was starting to seem more and more increasingly impossible the less distance was put between them.

If running him over with a car three times wasnt enough to kill him, whose to say anything else would? What if Constance had brought him inside?? What if she was still out there with him?? Mourning?

Mallory wasnt a monster; she wasnt going to tear away a dying boy from his grandmother in his (hopefully) final moments, even if he was the antichrist.

She felt as if she was a total loss for what to do; which made her grow sick to her stomach because she knew that was a cruel form of denial. She was destined for this moment; every moment thus far had led up to this.. so why did she feel like such a failure? Her thoughts grew more foggy and distant with panic; her throat became entirely dry as she slowed the car down. The murder house now in view; the first thing she noticed.

The red bricks and stained glass windows shined brightly in the sun. The house, which Mallory was sure typically looked beautiful, radiated a terrifying aura.. even more so this time versus when she was here only a mere minutes ago. The expanse and exterior of the house was intimidating; it held a certain danger to it that she couldnt pinpoint her finger on where the source came from.. it certainly was not Michael. Mallory knew that even if he wasnt dead; his powers would fade out for atleast a few minutes from being so wounded.

Mallory stopped the car once she saw Michael's dead body; which still resided in the middle of the road. Her feelings of panic and nausea only amplified once she saw his body - her gaze lingering upon it. She approached him with no hesitation; she could nearly feel that he was gone.. his spirit momentarily missing.. somewhere else.

She studied him carefully and nearly pitifully as she crouched down to kneel next to his body. His body was littered and splattered with bright red wounds. His pants looked as if they were dip dyed in red paint; His once pale skin along with the majority of his clothes was covered in a bright red splatter. Long, dark red lacerations decorated his face. His mouth was still agape; his once white teeth were coated in the same shade of red his clothes were.

Even though he looked absolutely horrible; Mallory still felt absolutely no remorse for the antichrist. Knowing what he would become, and his sick ways of manipulation deserved no mercy. However, knowing only seconds ago he was nothing but a mere bloody, suffering child.. she couldnt help but to not fight the tears she felt budding at her eyes; letting one slide down her cheek before quickly wiping it away - she knew it was naive to assume she wasnt being watched.

Mallory wasnt stupid - she knew her powers and what she was capable of, like the back of her hand by now. The past few months practically consisted of her testing and expanding on her limits... She knew that healing Michael in this exact moment wasnt out of the question. In fact, it almost seemed to be more difficult to restrain herself from healing him.. but she knew better.

He deserves to fucking suffer. He deserved to rot in his personal hell; wherever that may be.

She couldnt help but to nearly laugh at the thought that he finally got what was fucking coming to him.

Mallory could feel herself shaking with how close she was to Michael now. She couldnt stand how he made her feel when they were this close - almost touching.

She now was kneeling next to his body on the concrete, her knees aching from the rough surface but she couldnt go just yet. Not when she still had no fucking clue where to go from here.

The world seemed as if it came to stand still; nothing seemed like it existed outside of the small bubble that Mallory felt her and Michael were suddenly trapped in.. The birds stopped singing, no cars happened to drive by.. everything just stopped.

All the spirits and souls that Mallory could feel that were trapped within the grounds of the house, didnt bother to make a appearance either. But she knew they were still there... she could still feel their eyes on her. Watching; waiting.

The sun's warmth, which normally Mallory chose to bask in, was starting to make her itch. She could feel her skin start to moisten with sweat.. Instinctively she knew that her sudden newfound state of being uncomfortable was her cue to leave... To go where though? She wasnt sure.

Why am I still here? If everything had happened correctly; if I really killed him.. then why havent I woken up yet??

Mallory continued to stare at him grimly; not quite brave enough to speak but still managing to maintain the courage to sit by him and look at the damage she caused. The most jarring feature of Michael's current appearance would be his eyes. Mallory couldnt help but to stare at them; and it certainly wasnt because they were beautiful.

His once vibrant, sky blue, irises were now starting to look oddly dull. A faint, milky white color looked as if it were painted over them instead.

His skin was now a bruised white; Mallory shakily extended out her hand - pressing the back of her knuckles softly to his forearm. She wanted to see how cold his body was; and when she made contact - she pulled her hand back so fast as if it had been burned. She hissed, the coolness of his skin stunned her. She stared at his body intensely - shocked that she even dared to touch him, let alone even stick around for this long.

The sounds Michael started to make is what finally drove Mallory to wake up out her near trance she found herself amidst in and to realize the reality of the situation. After minutes of silence and stillness, and sure death, Michael's chest finally started to move. The amount at which his chest moved was nearly minuscule at first; but he was recovering rather quickly.. too fucking quickly for Mallorys liking.

It was almost sickly ironic how Mallorys chest started to move faster and faster as soon as Michael's did; she couldn't help but to feel entirely panicked. The rest of her emotions; her thoughts; her feelings; everything that used to make up her was now fleeting.. rapidly leaving until as she could focus on was the oxygen briskly escaping her.

She watched the color from his skin start to return; the off putting stark whiteness leaving and a very subtle pink gracing his skin tone. More noticeably; she observed how the color in his lips and eyes returned back.. almost appearing normal.

She unconsciously found herself rising; panic still occupying all of her senses. She quickly unfolded her legs and steadied herself as she stood up.. One thought and one thought only rang through her mind like a sick mantra..

I need to get the fuck out of here.

Mallory tried to gasp as she suddenly felt her throat grow incredibly dry; she let out a desperate dry cough. Her eyes started to tear up unwillingly as she felt a enormous amount of self doubt suddenly surge into the core of her being - the feeling slipping momentarily into her soul.

The world around her began to spin and melt away simultaneously; until she felt her physical body melt away from Michael and the Murder House incredibly rapidly before she could even fully process what was happening.

She felt the harsh coldness of the bath tub water for a split second before she emerged; the black water engulfing her as she stayed partially concealed within the water. Immeadietly she found herself gasping and gagging on her tongue from not being able to breath possibly fast enough... The next thing she felt was otherworldly pain. She felt so much fucking pain.

Mallory gripped the edge of the bathtub until her fingertips turned white and her nails threatened to split. She stayed like that for a moment; spitting and gasping, trying to find a way to consume as much oxygen as possible while managing the nearly unimaginable pain. Her entire body throbbed but her eyes felt a different pain; a sickly stinging.

Keeping her posture and preventing herself from slipping entirely back into the black water was a fucking mission in itself, she quickly learned. She didnt even bother to pretend to be quiet.. Her breaths and groans were far too loud to even begin to ignore.

Is Michael still alive? Where is Myrtle?

Mallorys lungs seemed to return to normal capacity after a while, her gasping decreased until she was utterly and completely quiet. She arose from the water as quietly as she possibly could, biting her lip to prevent making any additional noise from the sudden cold air she felt against her body.. stinging and torturous..

Her eyes still ached, bringing her hands instinctively to her eyes to stop the pain - she realized ones of her hands was still balled into a fist.. holding onto something.

Was that.. is that MICHAELS hair??

Mallory stared at the once curly, perfectly golden strands of hair that lie in her balled up fist in complete horror - it was now a dark red from the blood that had washed off her skin and into the water.

There was no way this was HIS hair. It had to be someone elses; anyone elses! She refused to believe that she was holding onto anything that belonged or had to do with Michael... complete disgust and delirium rendered her from thinking that.

Her first instinct was to drop the hair; but something told her to keep holding onto the lock, it would only serve her well in the future.

Her vision was inky with blood; dark red clouding her vision and making her feel even more impaired and utterly hopeless then she already felt.. even with the large wound still gaping and bleeding from her stomach. Her stomach wound made her entire body ache, trying to stay conscious was a fight within itself.

It happened again. I failed.

She wasnt sure if she was just being cynical or if her thoughts were even to be trusted anymore when she was in this state.. she only knew she wanted this horrible nightmare to be fucking over with already. She wanted to wake up in Robichauxs and see her sisters; Misty, Madison, Queenie, Zoe and more than anyone.. Cordelia... Oh fuck.

Cordelia... She was still dead.. because of me.

Mallory blinked slowly a few times; taking her free hand and wiping as much blood away from her face and eyes as she could - just enough so she could fully take in her surroundings.

If she could feel her stomach; she was sure she would feel it drop because as much as she looked, she saw no one. Absolutely no one. Tears slipped down her cheeks but they werent bloody anymore. She knew she was completely fucked; he had her cornered.

Well not literally anyways. He still managed to lurk somewhere within the vast empty walls of Outpost Three; most likely looking for her.. but he had to know she was fatally wounded.. right?

That's when out of the thick silenceness, she heard the first sign of life. Loud; but distant heavy footsteps.

Michael.

She knew she was fucked right away. She could almost feel his spirit itself within Hawthorne; the feeling slowly flowing to her until it forced her to be frozen. Petrified, still sopping wet and with some left over blood dripping off her chin - she knew what she had to do.. and she only had seconds to do it. Mallory knew he was approaching closer and closer the longer she stood docile in the bathtub.. like a idiot.

She took deep, heavy breaths. Fully; for the first time, cherishing the feeling of oxygen in her lungs - knowing that she very well might not make it out alive. Preforming time travel once alone was a enormous feat; but she had already done it twice.. but three times?

The thought simultaneously scared and excited her; she continued take deep breaths before relaxing. Closing her eyes and focusing; searching for a moment in Michael's history to go back too.

There had to be another time Michael was weak besides when he was with Constance at the murder house.. Another time that he felt abandoned.. lost.. confused..

She swallowed as she felt and focused on the soft strands of hair that she held onto; trying to search desperately for the answer that she needed as she took the next step and plunged herself under the water, first barely managing to weakly whisper, "tempus infinituum".

The water tore at her skin as she felt herself letting go from the past reality... slowly yet rapidly her senses seemed to all melt away at once before she was floating- until nothing.

Suddenly Mallory opened her eyes, blinking as she kept calm as she adjusted to her new surroundings.. an open, nearly empty forest was what welcomed her as she slowly spun around.

The smell of pine leaves and the heavy scent of the forest consumed her senses. She first felt calm and at peace; the forest was beautiful. She almost felt tempted to forget about what she came here to do and to lose herself within the sea of greenery but.. something was terribly wrong.

More so; someone was here.

Mallory first stood still; puzzled as to why she was now standing in a vacant forest with pine needles at her feet.

She didnt dare say a word out loud, just in case, but she knew she was waiting for something before she dared to take a step.. she was waiting for a sign. She didnt bat a eye when she felt a soft, warm breeze tousle her hair forward. She felt it continue to crash against her body - almost like soft waves crashing upon rocks. She felt it on her warm skin; her skin getting goosebumps as she knew what this meant. She was getting her sign.

This is it. Is he here?

Mallory giggled at the mere thought; the anticipation and glee of imagining how this nightmare perhaps could be over in the near future was making her experience true euphoria.

She began to walk through the forest; passing several trees as she searched for what she was yearning for. The breeze was far gone by now but she knew to keep going; to keep looking. She looked at the forest landscape that lie ahead of her; a sea of moss and blended greens and blues. The forest didnt have the same magic it typically held though; something was missing.

It was because she was getting closer to him.

Mallory had to suppress a scream as she suddenly felt herself step on something that wasnt the forest floor. She felt a painful shiver run directly down her spine, almost as if someone was running a blade down her back. She was becoming consumed with panic once more; and with the sudden realization what was happening.. What this meant.

It was pure reflex which caused her to take a step back; even before she had the opportunity to look down and confirm her suspicions, she knew exactly what she had stepped on. A body.

She quickly looked down at what she had stepped on - not able to take the anonymity of the individual any longer.. and of course..

I fucking knew it.

She recognized who it was immeadietly, curly blonde hair that was mangled with dirt and a typical black outfit.. it was too easy to guess the identity of the body. He was face down, his body sprawled out unnaturally and in a uncomfortable manner..

It was once again; Michael Langdon.

Taglist: @mina672 @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakewaterxx @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @beyond-repentance @lizzy-claire-fandom

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handsoffmyfriends · 5 years ago

Text

NOT HAPPY TOGETHER - PROLOGUE

—

PAIRINGS: ex!Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!Reader, platonic!Akaashi Keiji x gn!Reader, ex!Sekimukai Kouji x gn!Reader, pining!Akaashi x Bokuto Koutarou, pining!Sekimukai Kouji x Izumi Yukitaka, Kozume Kenma x Hinata Shouyou

WORD COUNT: 7,065

WARNINGS: dumb choices, drinking, sex mention, kissing your best friend lmao, unhealthy coping mechanisms, pining, so much pining its a pine forest, lovesick fools, angst, really really self indulgent like look at the ships lmao

A/N: so this thing became an entire au that has evicted the actual paying tenants in my head to squat rent free lmao just a bunch of maybe chronological events beginning with The Breakup and leading up to Getting Back Together

i totally lost steam at the end rip but i need this out of my drafts since scrolling 34 years to find my smau drafts is killer

tags: @samanthaa-leanne @finnydraws @peteunderoos @lowermoons @deestielluv @angyboibakugo @carmomo18 @kuroirl

Part One

The day started with melancholy. The weather seemed to disagree, not a cloud in the sky as the morning sun filtered into your room through poorly drawn curtains, the warm rays scattering along your faces.

It was your last day together before you moved to the other side of the country for college for the next four years. Hokkaido had offered you exactly what you wanted to pursue, you just had to sacrifice your life in Tokyo to take it. Kuroo had been overwhelmingly supportive when you received your acceptance letter, rambling on and on about how Kenma would make sure he had a decent computer setup so you could video call every day, how the physical distance wouldn't matter in the long run.

You didn't tell him how much it meant to you that he would go to all those lengths to be with you. You didn't tell him how you couldn't ask that of him, how unfair it would be of you to tether him to you like that. You knew he deserved better than that, better than text messages and video calls. He deserved to be with someone that could be physically by his side, and that someone just wasn't you anymore.

You woke up somber, despite the warm, comforting arms wrapped around you like a cage. You allowed yourself several minutes to relish in his warmth, to commit to memory how perfect it felt to be by his side, since you knew you would never have this again.

Usually, you were both slow to wake, indulging in early morning cuddles and kisses, but today you couldn't bring yourself to bask in the little world of happiness the two of you had cultivated over the three years of your relationship. You were going to tear it all apart, but you knew it was for the better. There was no happiness in a relationship that would be held together by loneliness and longing, of staring at phones and wondering when the next text would come, when the next call would come. It would be torture and no matter how much you loved him, you couldn't bring yourself to demand that of him.

So, you didn't roll over and kiss him awake like you usually would. You don't stare at his sleeping face for minutes on end, marvelling at how peaceful he looks in slumber. You already knew every facet of his face, every emotion he was capable of expressing, so you don't need to commit anything to memory.

You pull yourself from his grip, despite him trying to tighten his hold on you as he came to consciousness. Even in sleep, if you tried to wiggle away, he would pull you closer instinctually. He looked up at you bleary eyed, a little confused, but happy to see you nonetheless, a sleepy smile gracing his features. The pure adoration he held for you sent your heart plummeting.

You gave him a tight smile back before leaving the comfort of the bed, the beginning of a bigger departure. You left him to doze off as you mulled around the bedroom, picking out some clothes and heading to the bathroom without a second glance. If you had looked at him again, you would have noticed him watching you with furrowed brows.

He knew you were worried about moving to Hokkaido, he was feeling down about, too. Today was your last day together in person, but he meant every word when he said he would be on top of calling you. Part of him knew your behaviour wasn't off because of the move, he knew you were keeping something from him, but he wasn't about to pry. He knew, deep down, that something was wrong, but he ignored that niggle of anxiety, just like he ignored the space that had suddenly grown between you.

It continued in the little actions throughout the day. You could barely look him in the eyes, could barely respond to his numerous assurances that he would call you, that it wouldn't be different, not really. You tried to wear a polite smile and nod, but it felt worn, like a terrible disguise and you knew he could see through it. It caused him to lay it on thicker, that by being overconfident and overbearing in his determination to make things work, it would smother the uncomfortable atmosphere that you had created.

"It's going to be fine," he repeats for the hundredth time, rubbing your shoulders soothingly. "I know you're nervous about the move. Hell, I would be, too!"

You hum, an acknowledgement that he's spoken but nothing more to contribute to the conversation. You're sitting in the living room, your bags packed and ready to go. You get the notification that your ride is here, that will take you to the airport and send you to the faraway island.

"You can call me when you're settled," he continues. "Or when you land. Whenever you want, kitten. I'll always answer."

It's almost sad, how desperate he is to convince you it will be okay. You have no doubt in your mind that he would hold true to his word, that things might even work out in the end, but you also know that would demand crippling loneliness. It would demand that each of you be on each other's beck and call, that when that phone rings or a text comes through, you're expecting to answer or reply. It demands that you're both hanging on the edge of your seat, waiting desperately for that phone call, that text message.

"Kitten?"

You hum again, looking up at him in inquiry. It's a mistake, he's looking down at you with all the love in the world. It wavers your determination, makes you falter in your resolve. You want to reciprocate that love so much, with every fibre of your being, and you do, you really do, which is why the next words out of your mouth are, "let's break up."

The next few moments go by in a blur. You barely register what he's saying, if he's saying anything at all, or what you're saying in return, if anything at all. You know deep down, this needs to be done, neither of you can live happily hanging onto that next text message, that next phone call. He deserves better than that, and so do you.

You gather up your bags in a daze as Kuroo is speaking fervently, questions and compromises falling on your deaf ears. You give him half hearted responses, barely formed excuses that you both know are bullshit. You don't look at him the entire time, knowing if you gave in and looked at the pain you had inflicted, you would cave and take it all back.

You leave without another word. Kuroo is torn between chasing after you and demanding a proper reason, but he knows it would be to no avail. He lets you go, knowing he has no chance to get anything out of you today. He tries to convince himself it's because you're leaving, that your nerves are wound up, that you're stressed and anxious about the move and about the new school, that you aren't thinking properly. That in a few days, you'll realise how silly you're being and you'll take it back.

He lets you go because he's confident he can change your mind.

He's calling you the next day.

It startles you out of your light slumber. You'd been going non-stop ever since you left, arranging your new room, organising your college schedule, finding the closest shops and most effective public transport, being thrown way out of your depth at the sudden independence that this new life demanded of you. Thankfully, you had a week to get used to it before college started handing your ass back to you on a silver platter.

You scramble to see the caller ID and your blood runs cold when you see. Everything in you is telling you to answer, to apologise for your actions and to take it all back, to even beg his forgiveness, but you just stare at the phone as the call goes to voicemail. You breathe a sigh of relief, though it's short lived when you get the text that you have a new voicemail.

And then he's calling again.

It goes like this for a solid fifteen minutes. Call after call, your heart desperately wanting to answer him, but your mind knowing you shouldn't. You've repeated it to yourself a thousand times already, that it's better off this way, that you both wouldn't be happy.

You're starting to hate yourself for being so stubborn.

The next day you're introduced to your roommate. Which, to your surprise, is someone you recognise. You hadn't expected to know anyone here, and if you're being honest with yourself, you don't really know Akaashi Keiji all that well. To you, he was just the friend of your boyfriend's best friend, who went to a completely different school.

Well, ex-boyfriend.

Akaashi seems to be surprised to see you as well. He introduced himself politely, finishing with, "you're... Kuroo's parter, right?"

It stabs you in a way you didn't think possible. You can feel your heart skip a beat before it picks up in double time, loud in your ears as Akaashi regards you with polite interest. You clear your throat, avoiding his gaze as you say, "ah, n-not anymore."

You find that Akaashi isn't a very expressive person. If he's shocked at the revelation, he doesn't show it. "Oh, my apologies." He doesn't pry any further, his voice devoid of any genuine feelings towards the matter. You don't know if you should be annoyed or relieved that he doesn't ask you about it.

It's then that your phone, from the very traitorous place on the kitchen counter, starts to go off. Akaashi glances at it before you're able to clamber over the sofa to the offending device, Kuroo's face and ID lighting up the screen in an entirely offensive display to your pride.

You hastily hit the reject button rather than letting it ring out, which earns you a raised eyebrow from your roommate. You can see the gears working in his brain as he pieces together the facts, though you're not given a chance to recover as your phone is going off again.

Apologies spill out of your mouth as you escape the communal area, shutting yourself in your room and away from Akaashi's judgement. You clutch at your phone like a lifeline, the feelings of remorse and desperation taking you over as Kuroo tries to call you over and over, the tears falling relentlessly for as long as he tries.

He gives up after ten minutes this time, though he leaves a voicemail for every unanswered call.

It's later that evening that you finally emerge from your room. Kuroo didn't try to call again, but he's been texting you non-stop all day. You've been reading them, how could you not, your heart breaking all over as you read the begging. It would almost be pathetic, how desperate he is for your attention, if you didn't reciprocate. You ask yourself for the hundredth time if this is the right course of action.

Akaashi, to your surprise, has made dinner for the both of you. He's still in the middle of serving the meal, his eyes flickering up as you enter the room.

"Are you okay?"

The question throws you off guard. You sputter, "I— what?" like a moron, feeling entirely off balance. You'd expected a lot of things to come from Akaashi, mostly negative, but not concern for your wellbeing.

"I asked if you are okay," he repeats, setting two bowls of food onto the low table by the couch. The apartment made use of the minimal space, meaning it was an open living layout with no dining area.

You gaped at him like a fish, unsure of what to say. He's patient with you, taking a seat and waiting for you to catch up to the present moment. You eventually do, wordlessly taking the floor across from him, staring at the meal like it held all the answers to the universe.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he continues. "I don't mean to be presumptuous, but I find myself in a similar sort of situation."

You glance up at him like a rabbit staring down the jaws of a fox. He's regarding you with a carefully neutral expression, his hands busy with his bowl and chopsticks. You open your mouth to speak, but it's dry, and your voice comes out a lot raspier than usual. "What do you mean?"

"A long distance relationship," he says simply. "Bokuto suggested it, but I talked him out of it. We came to the agreement that we could try again once I graduate college, since he's going professional." He arches a delicate brow when he looks back up at you as he says, "I assume you had a similar conversation with Kuroo?"

You feel the knot in your belly tighten. You swallow thickly, willing yourself not to cry. "Not really," you admit, voice laced with emotion. "We didn't... discuss anything."

He studies you in a relaxed way as he eats, prompting you to start on your own meal. You thank him quietly for the meal despite not feeling hungry at all. You eat it all the same.

Akaashi is remarkably understanding about your decision. The only thing he doesn't agree with is you shouldering the decision, but he knows Kuroo well enough to know that there would have been no convincing him otherwise.

Kuroo continues to try to call you daily. Usually, its towards the evening, when you and Akaashi are either eating or watching TV to wind down for the day. You ignore it every time, Akaashi growing increasingly more worried about you as the weeks go by.

The two of you talk about your not-boyfriends a lot. The difference being that Akaashi maintains a friendly relationship with Bokuto, the two texting on the daily and video calling every other day. You had been present for one of the video calls, milling around in the kitchen behind Akaashi. Bokuto had greeted you politely enough, but you could tell he was angry with you. You didn't blame him, he was Kuroo's best friend after all, and you were surprised to find him tolerating you at all. Akaashi must have explained things to him, because the next time you accidentally crashed their video call, Bokuto had been much more pleased to see you.

Kuroo's unanswered messages to you deviate from their begging to be more casual, recounting his day in a one sided conversation. Somehow, it makes it all the harder to continue reading them, but you don't have the heart to block his number and you feel like you at least owe it to him to keep reading them. You don't touch the voicemails, knowing that if you heard his voice, your resolve would crumble.

It comes to a head one day, six months later, when you're lying in bed, unable to sleep, when he's texting you again. The frequency has died down considerably, the daily texts and calls turning into weekly ones. You watch with tears in your eyes as he recounts his day yet again, how much college is kicking his ass and how much of a recluse Kenma is when given the choice. He mentions how he's been spending time with Bokuto, suggests that the four of you should all have a video call and how is Akaashi going by the way?

He calls you after he's finished, and you nearly answer. Your finger hovers over the green spot, and you're ready to give up, this clearly isn't working, but for the first time he doesn't call until it rings out to voicemail. It leaves you feeling hollow. You had finally come to terms that you weren't going to hold out, that you were going to answer him and beg for his forgiveness.

He sends you one more text that sends you over the edge. You only read the first line of the preview, "I'll always love you, kitten," before you're opening up your messages with Kenma, begging him to talk to Kuroo and ask him to stop contacting you. You couldn't do this anymore.

And just like that, Kuroo goes silent. You feel your heart shatter at the realisation that you finally got what you wanted, that Kuroo would finally stop contacting you. You aren't sure when Akaashi made his way into your room, but you're bawling into his shoulder as he holds you close, rubbing soothing circles into your back as your heart is finally able to fully break.

Things get better. You're able to focus more on your college work and your friendship with Akaashi becomes more than a pair of lovesick fools. It becomes genuine, and strangely domestic. Akaashi's a lot better at cooking than you are, so in turn you handle the cleaning. Usually, you'll watch him cook and narrate the process like you're on a cooking show, and you'll rate the dish and give a critical analysis that's full of bullshit words and terms you don't fully understand. Sometimes, you'll even get into the kitchen and have Akaashi instruct you on what to do. He almost always takes over.

You both prefer to study in the communal area, quietly enjoying each other's company, and you regularly watch TV together. You don't necessarily talk a lot during these times, but you both relish the companionship and how comfortable it feels to be around each other.

You take each other out on platonic dates on the regular, too. Usually just to the coffee shop on campus when you're both run down from a lecture, swapping who pays for whom every time. Sometimes, it's a little more elaborate, a casual night out at the local izakaya.

Friendship with Akaashi comes as easy as breathing and he quickly becomes your closest friend. You confide in him as much as he confides in you, though the topic of conversation deviates from your mutual pining to more substantial things. You find that your original assumption of Akaashi not being very expressive was entirely false. He's just extremely guarded, but he feels at ease around you, almost as much as he feels around Bokuto, so you get to see his rare smiles and listen to his laughter.

There's a day where you're both exhausted from the week, feeling especially touch-starved, when you cross the line. Akaashi is the one to suggest it, his reasoning very sound. You're both craving physical contact, you're both helplessly in love with someone you can't be with right now, so why not give it a try?

"You can pretend I'm him," he says in a low voice as he moves into your space. It sounds so unhealthy, but he would be doing the same with you, so it would be okay, right?

You find out very quickly that your relationship with Akaashi could never be anything but platonic. When he kisses you, and you kiss him back, you both recoil with an almost repulsed expression mirroring back to each other. You're the first to laugh, the small giggle escaping your lips with Akaashi hovering over you on the couch. He sits back and laughs along with you as you trade compliments for your kissing style, but come to an agreement that it felt wrong.

You never speak of it again.

After that, you're somehow even more comfortable with each other. You start calling each other by first name. You often gravitate to his side, whether it be huddled down on the couch, completely invading his personal space, or be it out in public, where he carelessly throws his arm around you.

The two of you could never see each other as anything but platonic friends, but you're still able to satisfy the cravings of the skin, in the form of casual touches and friendly embraces. It becomes the norm for you two to be touching somehow, whether it be hand holding or just standing shoulder to shoulder. It's therapeutic.

Some of your classmates ask if you're dating. You laugh at the questions, there's no way you could date Akaashi. You assure them that you're just best friends. It doesn't seem to convince anyone, but you don't really care. They don't understand and you don't want to make them. It's between you and Akaashi, and probably Bokuto, too.

You're at a party, entirely too drunk, when you're being pulled into a bathroom and you're being ravaged by someone you don't know. He's probably a classmate, someone you see every other day, but right now you can't find a name. You find that you don't care, and you lose yourself to his ministrations as he peels back your clothing and presses wet, drunken kisses to your skin.

It's when you muse his black hair into something far too familiar, moaning out a name you thought you'd never say again, that has you scrambling from the sink in a panic. You barely give the man another look before you run, out of the bathroom and out of the building, onto the cold, dark street. You fumble for your phone with ragged breaths, dialing Akaashi.

You're panicking and you're damn near in tears on the phone to him. It takes him no time at all to come to you, you were somewhere on campus, and he's wrapping you up in his scarf and jacket, holding you close as you come down from your hysterics.

You walk home in silence, your hand firmly clasped in his. He sits you down on the sofa, wrapping you up even more like a burrito, setting a glass of water in front of you as he prepares tea for you both. You're dazed, or you're just still really drunk, because suddenly Akaashi is next to you and pressing the warm mug into your hands.

"What happened?"

You shrug helplessly. "I don't know. One minute it was fine, I was about to get the dicking of my life—" You stop yourself, your brain catching up with your words. "No, I wasn't. I was in a fucking bathroom of all places. No, that would have been a shit fuck," you murmur this to yourself, voicing your thoughts. You startle slightly when Akaashi places a hand on your shoulder, bringing you back to the present. "Oh. Um. For a second, all I could think of was Kuroo, so I panicked."

Akaashi sighed, rubbing your arm comfortingly. "I'm glad you're okay. Next time, let me come with you."

You wiggle your eyebrows stupidly. "Why, you wanna get down and dirty with me?" The question barely makes it out before you're laughing. The idea of sleeping with Akaashi has become laughable. You suddenly grow somber as the thought crosses your mind and you look up to him with the biggest eyes you can manage. "Hey, can I sleep with you tonight?"

He snorts, an affectionate smile dancing on his lips. "You are so horny when you're drunk."

"Not like that!" you exclaim, a little too loud, a little too excited. "Just... you know. Sharing a bed. No funny business."

He can barely hold back his own laughter, giggling softly at you. "No funny business," he agrees with a giggle, patting the top of your head. "Alright, give me a minute to make my bed."

Akaashi is on a video call with Bokuto when he has to excuse himself for the bathroom, leaving Bokuto to spot you in the background and excitedly hollering your name, calling you over.

"We haven't spoken in forever!!" he whines as you take Akaashi's place on the sofa.

You laugh as you say, "I'm pretty sure we spoke last week, man."

He playfully pouts, but excited all the same. "Yeah, but last week you hadn't kissed Akaashi yet!" You freeze and Bokuto bursts out into mirthful laughter. "Or slept with him!" he adds for good measure, and you feel like your entire existence should just cease to be.

"Well, uh, you see, about that," you try to explain, but you're stumbling over your words and Bokuto is having the time of his life on the other line.

"I'm just teasing," he assures in between bouts of laughter. "He told me all about it, but I've been dying to know your side of the story. C'mon, tell me, is he not the best kisser you've ever kissed?"

You pray for some divine being to smite you on the spot, to spare you the embarrassment of the conversation, but your prayers are not answered and you're forced to go along with Bokuto's asinine line of questioning. "Well, uh, no offense to you or him, but no? Like, objectively he's a great kisser, but like..." you trail off helplessly. "I've kissed better," you end up saying fruitlessly.

Bokuto's eyes shine with glee. "You mean, my best bro, Kuroo? Oh, hey, that rhymes!"

You chuckle at him, ignoring the little pricks to your heart. "Yeah. He's spoiled me for life, I think," you say, truthfully. Neither that drunken mishap nor Akaashi could compare to how it felt when you kissed Kuroo. But, you very purposefully do not follow that train of thought, and you're blessed with the return of Akaashi.

He gives you a quirk of the eyebrow as he takes a seat next to you, very much in your personal space, going so far as to rest his head in your lap as he looks up to the screen with pure adoration. "Are you behaving yourself, Bokuto?"

"Always!" he barks back cheerfully. "Just sharing stories of what it's like to kiss you!"

Akaashi buries his head in your lap and you feel like a furnace, no doubt your face is as red as the shirt you're wearing. Despite it all, you pat Akaashi's head comfortingly, and Bokuto actually squeals, an impossibly high pitch from the man, as he coos at how adorable you two are.

"Is your partner as cool as I am with you being this affectionate with Akaashi?" Bokuto blurts. You miss the narrowing of Akaashi's eyes.

"We aren't together, Bokuto," Akaashi murmurs. Bokuto waves him off with a grin.

"I, uh, I'm not seeing anyone," you announce, forcing a laugh. You nudge at Akaashi ever so slightly, smoothly sliding out from under him. "It was nice to talk to you again, Bo, but I've got some shit I need to do. You kids keep it PG13 in the living room, okay?"

You don't see the stern look Akaashi gives Bokuto, nor do you hear the reprimanding when you close yourself in your room. You aren't privy to the conversation that follows, nor Kuroo meekly poking his head into frame.

"This isn't healthy," Akaashi scolds. "It's been over a year, Kuroo."

"Then tell me with absolute certainty that I don't have a chance," he counters. "Tell me that it's a lost cause."

Akaashi opens his mouth to say just that, but knows it would be a lie. He frowns as he says, "it still isn't healthy."

College starts back up with little fanfare. You and Akaashi sign on to stay as roommates for the duration of your courses, which was a no brainer. You couldn't imagine not living with Akaashi, and for the time being, you'll let yourself live in the fantasy. You know you'll eventually have to let him go, when you both graduate and he returns to Bokuto, and you're fine with that. You don't know what you're going to do, but you figure that isn't something to worry about for another few years.

Bokuto comes to visit, though it's barely for a weekend. You try to give the two men their privacy, you know that despite not dating that they would want their alone time, but Bokuto is very insistent that you all hang out together.

Once, you would have said you were better friends with Bokuto over Akaashi. How could you not have been, you were dating his best friend and you all got along. Kuroo would often drag you along to their joint volleyball training camps, and he would often want to catch Bokuto outside of school hours. Bokuto was funny, easy to get along with, and charming in his own way. Akaashi would often accompany Bokuto on those outings, but the two of you just never hit it off.

Funny how things work themselves out.

Akaashi's having a shower when you drop next to Bokuto, throwing your legs over his lap and leveling him with a serious look. "I'm going to ask you something and you're not going to read into it or tell anyone about it," you say as you get comofrtable.

He raises an eyebrow impossibly high. "I can promise none of that," he answers truthfully. "I can't keep things from Akaashi."

You muse for a moment. "Okay, Keiji doesn't count." He suppresses a squeal of delight at you using Akaashi's given name. Something about your friendship with Akaashi really tickles Bokuto's inner fangirl. He schools his face into something more serious when you cock your head to the side. "Right. Um. How is... Kuroo?"

His eyebrows shoot even higher, eyes sparkling with intrigue. You're quick to deny any special interest (lie), you fell out of love with him long ago (lie), you're completely over him (lie). You're probably being too insistent on these facts (lies), but if you repeat them enough, they'll eventually become true, right? (Wrong).

"I haven't even said anything yet," Bokuto laughs, silencing you. "He's doing fine. I think he's seeing someone, but he's so tight lipped about it," he says with a frown while the news causes your heart to skip a beat. "He's still living with Kenma. Oh! Kenma and Hinata started dating, did you hear?" he trails off excitedly, and you find it difficult to pay attention.

Was Kuroo really dating someone? You had no right to feel as upset as you did, it is what you wanted to happen, after all. The whole idea was so you could both find happiness in someone a lot closer. Really, you should be happy that he managed to find it, but instead you feel bitter that you haven't been able to. You've been too busy denying your feelings, denying that you're still hung up on him nearly eighteen months later, but even if you decided to accept them, to take it all back, it seems it's too late for that now. You wouldn't deserve it anyway, not after how you callously threw him aside.

Akaashi joins you a little while later, and he knows something's upset you. He slips in easily between you and Bokuto, returning your legs to lay atop both of their laps, and he rests his hands on your thigh in comfort. He doesn't ask what's wrong, but he manages to steer Bokuto's topic completely away from all your old friends, to what the three of you should do tomorrow before Bokuto has to leave.

You start dating.

It's a lot harder than you ever thought. You never really dated in the first place, since it was in your first year at Nekoma High that you met Kuroo and very quickly fell into an easy relationship with him for the following three years. You didn't know how to date, and you were too embarrassed to ask Akaashi for advice. Part of you told you that he would be just as clueless.

Most don't go anywhere after the first date. It's surprisingly time consuming and you'd rather spend your free time with Akaashi. Some see a second date, but things just don't feel right and you don't pursue a third date.

You're walking through campus, on a haphazard video call with Hinata. He's not even in the country, he's in Brazil now, learning how to play beach volleyball. You'd always been friendly with the Karasuno middle blocker, but you'd made an effort to keep in contact since you found out he and Kenma were dating. Next to Akaashi, Kenma was your best friend, which meant Hinata was now your best friend, too.

"Sounds like you're having a wild time there," you remark to his latest misadventure. "Keeping it interesting so Kenma will keep sponsoring you?" you add as a tease, giggling with delight when Hinata gets all flustered and embarrassed.

As Hinata tries to save face, you notice a young man looking at you sheepishly, like a child that's lost their parent. He couldn't be older than you, maybe he's younger than you. "Ah, I'll call you back, Sho," you interrupt, quickly ending the call and giving the stranger a kind smile. "Can I help you?"

He looks about as awkward as you feel as he takes the two extra steps to approach you. "This is probably really weird, but were you just on the phone to Hinata Shouyou?"

That's how you met Sekimukai Kouji, who just so happened to be Hinata's old friend from elementary school. Your world in Hokkaido didn't seem nearly as detached as it once used to, and you struck up an easy friendship with Kouji.

It didn't take long for the two of you to start dating. It felt freeing, for a little while. You felt happy, or at least you had tricked yourself into feeling happy. As the months ticked by, guilt began to gnaw at you. Were you actually happy or were you just using Kouji as a stand in for Kuroo? Should you even get to feel happy after how you broke Kuroo's heart?

It came to a head one day, several months after that fateful encounter, when you were getting hot and heavy with Kouji. You'd invited him over, it wasn't the first time he'd been over, with the intention to study until your brains were mush. Studious as you were, study took a backseat after an hour, when the numbers and letters started to swirl around your head and make even less sense than usual, when Kouji's hands found your thighs and your attention was very much no longer on the nonsense alphanumerics.

His hands gripping at your sides, pressing hot kisses into your neck, your hands in his hair, tugging fervently, when you both moaned different names. Neither name belonged to the present company.

You might have been more upset with yourself for allowing it to happen again, if Kouji hadn't done the exact same to you. You both break away with mortified expressions, apologies ready to spill from your lips, when you both register that you both fucked up. A tense second passes before your chuckle breaks the silence, and the tension with it, and you're both laughing at how ridiculous you both are.

Kouji opens up and explains how he's in love with his best friend from elementary school, has been for countless years now, how he's never had the courage to admit anything, too terrified to lose their friendship, and how he hoped you would have been able to distract him, for lack of a better word.

It's almost funny, if it weren't so damn sad. You were both using each other as a stand in. You recall Akaashi offering the exact same scenario to you almost two years ago and how ridiculous it had seemed at the time.

You explain yourself in turn, and you're both laughing with tears at how pathetic you both are. You encourage Kouji to shoot his shot, that having been friends with Izumi for so long means a confession couldn't possibly ruin anything. Kouji suggests you at least try and talk to Kuroo again, though he understands that your side is a lot more convoluted than his.

You break up that day, but you maintain a solid friendship with him, to the point that you still call each other by first name. You're the first person he calls after he confesses to Izumi, telling you with tears in his voice that he lasted a whole week being single. You congratulate him, just as teary eyed, so overwhelming happy for him, and insist on meeting his new boyfriend.

It's a bittersweet moment when you do finally meet Izumi, several weeks later. You're genuinely happy that it worked out, that Kouji is the happiest you've ever seen him in the short time that you've known him, but you can't help but feel a little bitter regarding your own feelings, on top of feeling like you don't deserve to feel badly about it, since it's all your doing.

You still spend time with Kouji, though the majority of your spare time is dedicated to Akaashi. When you're out on campus, Kouji will join you in a video call to Hinata. He doesn't visit you in your apartment anymore, which is just as well, since you've decided that your home is for you and Akaashi only (and Bokuto on his rare visits).

Your last year of college goes by uneventfully. In the final week leading up to your graduation, and your eventual eviction from the college housing with Akaashi, you're reminded that you need to find new housing in Tokyo. Hokkaido was only ever temporary, you loved the lifestyle of Tokyo, you loved the people in Tokyo.

Akaashi already has you covered. He doesn't take no for an answer when he tells you of the apartment he's secured, that the two of you aren't parting ways just yet, that Bokuto is still abroad and besides, you're just as important to him as Bokuto is. It makes your heart feel as light as a feather, makes you even more excited to graduate.

The new apartment is a lot more spacious than what you've been living in for the past four years. You decorate it together, going to the store together to find more space fillers, more indoor plants, to make the space something that's entirely you and Akaashi. Despite how perfect the place ends up becoming, how truly at home you feel in your new home, uncertainty gnaws at you. This isn't really your place, not really, not when Bokuto returns.

"Hey, Keiji," you lean over the island bench as Akaashi prepares a simple recipe for dinner. Bokuto is visiting this coming weekend, and you need to air your concerns before then. "What happens to me when Bokuto moves in?"

Akaashi regards you with a slight frown, as if he doesn't understand why you're asking, as if the answer is obvious. "Nothing," he says with a tone of obviousness that matches his expression. "This is your home, too."

You hum in thought, feeling your heart soar. "Yeah, but... won't it be weird for you? Having me around when you start getting serious with Bo?"

He stops what he's doing so he can give you his undivided attention. "My getting serious with Bokuto doesn't mean you have to leave. We've been living together for so long now, I think it would be weirder if we weren't." He places his hands over yours, giving them a gentle squeeze. "If you do want to move out when that happens, it'll be on your terms. I'm not going to force you out, and neither is Bokuto."

You blink back tears that you didn't know were welling up. You clear your throat and pull your hands back, feeling way too loved. You aren't sure what to say to such brutal honesty, even though you're used to his brand of honesty by now. Despite not replying, he seems satisfied enough with your reaction to continue with dinner, glancing at you occasionally with a soft smile. You can't help but reciprocate.

Bokuto moves in six months later, when he's finally released from volleyball hell. You find it isn't as uncomfortable as you first feared, and you continue to live with the happy couple for a following six months before you decide to move out. It pains you to do so, to leave your best friend of five years, but you aren't really leaving, not when you're moving a few blocks away. Akaashi insists that you visit frequently, which you do, and for the most part it's like you never even left.

But, now you have somewhere to go when Bokuto wants to have his friends over. More to the point, when Bokuto wants to have Kuroo over.

Bokuto never said anything about it, never asked if you would be okay with having Kuroo visit for the day, never even suggested it. He would only ever invite Kuroo over if he knew you weren't going to be home, and he would always make sure Kuroo was gone by the time you were due to return. He probably would have kept that up for years, but when you caught wind of what he was doing via Akaashi, you felt terrible. The apartment had become just as much Bokuto's home as it was yours, but you were making Bokuto have to treat his best friend like some kind of sinful secret.

Living alone wasn't bad. It took some time getting used to, and you very quickly had to learn how to cook on your own. You often phoned Akaashi during meal times, asking him how to do this or that, and sometimes he would just come over to help you. It was a good excuse for the both of you, as he missed you as much as you missed him.

As the fifth year ticked over and Bokuto's birthday inched ever closer, you came to terms with the inevitability that you would have to face Kuroo again. It was probably childish of you to hope you could avoid him for the rest of your life, to continue avoiding the truth of your feelings. It was amazing you'd managed to avoid him for over a year since moving back to Tokyo, especially during those six months where you lived with Bokuto. You told Akaashi that you were ready, that you weren't going to miss Bokuto's birthday for something so silly.

"I don't think it's silly," Akaashi disagrees. "Bokuto will understand."

"We're adults," you say with a shrug. "I can’t avoid him forever. I might even be able to apologise.”

#kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu #kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #kuroo tetsurou x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #kuroo tetsurou x y/n #except hes your ex in this lmao #please free me from this prison #i didnt want this to become A Thing but it did

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purplesurveys · 5 years ago

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815

At what time of day do you normally feel the best? I love the evening the most. I get to have my coffee, it’s quieter around the house, and it also gets a little bit colder so it’s more fun to hang around by then. Do you normally have to hem pants? I’ve never had to do that before. If I need my pants fixed, I usually ask my lola to do it since she’s good at that kind of stuff. Name one reason why someone should not commit suicide. I can’t speak for other people, but I personally stay because I don’t want to leave Kimi behind and because I’ve seen countless mini-documentaries of parents who were left devastated by their kids taking their own lives. What would you do if you had no one to love and support you? That sounds so fucking bleak. I imagine bringing myself to therapy so I can learn how to deal with such a situation, and so that I at least have one person to talk to. If you didn't have love and support, would you feel life was worth living? No. But that’s why I imagine I’d be going to therapy, so my mind can be changed.

If you had no family nor friends nor money, would you feel life's worth living? These questions are so stressful to mull over and a tad bit triggering lmao, can I pass at this point? If you're unhappy, what would it take to make you fulfilled? Depends on what I need, which differs every time. Sometimes I’d wanna be alone, other times I’d want to be with other people, other times I’d need to drive and take longer routes than usual, or to binge YouTube videos, or a good nap...it’s always different. What was the last thing that upset your stomach? The meds I had to take for my UTI. Feeling poopy was one of its side effects, so even though it didn’t upset my stomach per se I did have to have several trips to the bathroom then. Do you have to go the pharmacy a lot? No, only when something’s wrong with me which doesn’t happen too often. Are you sunburned? I haven’t been sunburned since I was like 10. The tendency just suddenly stopped at some point. Do you wish someone loved you? I have a lot of people who already do, fortunately. Do you call yourself stupid often? Like every other hour lmao. What's a song you love? From Eden - Hozier. Do you miss anyone who was mean to you? Not to my knowledge. I’m glad they aren’t in my life today. Name someone you know who is a cancer survivor. One of my former Filipino teachers in high school. Are you friends with any cancer survivors? I don’t think that I am. Does God often answer your prayers? How was your day today (or yesterday, if it's morning)? It was average. Nothing out of the ordinary happened today but I did like the fact that my parents still left the living room aircon on for most of the day even though summer’s over and the weather’s already begun to be a little colder. Do you wish the sunrise and sunset lasted longer? Not really? I’m fine with the ones we’ve got lol. Would you want to relive your childhood again? Fuck no. It had some nostalgic bits, like the shows I used to watch or me playing outside, but it was far too traumatic for me to miss it as a whole. I’m happy being a grownup.

Were your college years the best years of your life? Not fully. My time in college only peaked by the second half, so it wasn’t all that great. Junior and senior year were very fun and eye-opening, though. Would you rather re-live high school or college? Ooh that’s quite a pickle...both periods had their highs. High school was a lot easier (academically), it was a time when I could fuck up and it was okay, and I found my first group of friends. College was a time of independence, a lot of growing up to do, and I also found my second group of friends. As miserable as I was during my freshman year, I ultimately have to go with college because I hated most of the people in my high school anyway and because I really loved the independence I gained in college, from being able to drive on my own and managing stuff on my own time to being free to choose my class schedule. And also, duh, I passed my dream school? I’d relive my years in UP in a heartbeat. What is the dumbest sports-team mascot you've heard of? Not really familiar with sports mascots to begin with. Are you a sports fan? Err, not really. I’m a pro wrestling fan, but it’s not 100% a sport. Where do you feel like you fit in the most? In my college and in my org. I’m sad that I only get four years with them – three when it comes to my org. Do you hate social classes? Yes. Do you think talent should have anything to do with social class? What? I have no clue what this question is insinuating but lmao of course not. I know some crazy talented people who wouldn’t be considered rich, and I know some bland-ass wealthy people who can’t do anything impressive at all. Name a country who's history you know nothing about. Australia. Name a religion you know nothing or very little about. Zoroastrianism. I only remember the founder. Don't you hate know-it-alls? I hate when they start getting conceited. What is your favorite store at the mall? I love visiting Fully Booked every chance I get. When was the last time you went to the mall? That would be when I had my eye checked last early March, because the clinic I visited was inside the mall. Aside from doing that, I also had late lunch at Marugame Udon which apparently would be the last time I’d have their food for a while, unbeknownst to me :( Do you have a bed or do you sleep on a mattress on the floor? I have a bed. When was the last time you went for a run? LOL never. Have you ever tried hard drugs? No. Which school subject did you hate the most? Back in high school I really hated the advanced math and science classes e.g. chemistry, physics, calculus, trig. In college, I found myself hating philosophy and economics the most. What was the last thing you wore from Aeropostale? I don’t think I ever wore anything from them. Which devotional do you read? I don’t read those. Do you appreciate classic literature? I appreciate and recognize their impact, but I don’t like reading them.

What is something you find strange? People who keep pushing for the All Lives Matter narrative. Cringe. Do you like your natural hair color? Sure. I’ve never actively complained about it, that’s for sure. Would you rather get a pixie cut or get dreadlocks? Pixie cut, because I’m pretty sure getting dreadlocks as a Filipino is a form of cultural appropriation? Would you rather dye your hair or get a perm? Dye it.

Do you keep Christmas lights up year-round? No, we don’t. Have you ever started a new trend? Just me? Lmao no. Do you have any artwork of yours from high school? I definitely don’t. Whenever a teacher would give our artworks back, I crumpled it up as soon as I got it and would throw it away. I just simply rejected all of my attempts to be creative lol. What did you win a scholarship for? I’ve never gotten one. But my university did start implementing free tuition for all undergrads starting in 2017 when I was a sophomore, so it’s kinda like the same thing. Did your college meet your expectations? Yes, and more. UP taught me far more than classroom lessons as it opened my eyes to the more important societal issues happening outside of school. It made me recognize our farmers who never earn the income they deserve; the factory workers stuck in poor working conditions; the jeepney drivers whose work is never respected; the millions of working class Filipinos who simply deserve better; and the government that is more corrupt than I thought. My college on the other hand taught me to be fearless and to never hesitate to search for, report, and defend the truth, and to disseminate just that to the masses. Bottomline is that words can’t even begin to describe how grateful I am to have studied there and I will always be very much in love with my school. What was the best thing about college? The best thing about mine, at least, was the throng of life lessons and eye-opening realizations it gave me. Each of them has been more valuable than any lesson I learned in the classroom. UP taught me that there were a thousand other issues far more important than problems I face in my own privileged bubble, but that I can help facilitate change if I wanted to. How old were you ten years ago? 12. Easily the worst age I’ve been in. What's the best piece of advice you can give someone ten years younger? Stay. It’ll get better. Not instantly, but it does get better. Do you feel like you are old enough and experienced enough to give advice? I think anyone’s fit to give advice no matter how old they are. Even kids can be quite insightful. The differences just lie on the topics people give advice on. How old were you when you started to feel mature and experienced? 17, after I had a series of shitty stuff happen to me at one point in 2015. When I got past those, I could tell I wasn’t the same person that I was, like, two months back. Were your 20's hell? I’m only in my second year lmao, can you get back to me in eight years? What type of bug do you see the most often in your home? We don’t get a lot of bugs at home, fortunately. We have tons of ants though. Do you put off things until the last minute? If I’m not passionate about the task, yes. Do you have the air conditioning on right now? Nope, just the fan. Is your mom the same size as you? She’s slim but she’s still ever so slightly a bit larger. We can technically share clothes but some of them would still look loose on me.

Does camping appeal to you? I have moods where it does and moods where it doesn’t lol. What color is your sleeping bag? I don’t have one. How often do you pray? Do you surrender to Christ daily? When was the last time you went to church? Do you know any Christians who aren't judgmental? Only a handful, and it’s usually people in my age group. Most of the others suck, and I can say this because I’ve had coooooooountless personal experiences with rude, hypocritical, sexist, homophobic, and transphobic Christians and Catholics. Do you believe there are any good people in the world? Of course. What's one thing you are scared of? Flying cockroaches.

#survey #surveys

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tartrazeen · 6 years ago

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How Endgame Delivered on Irondad (more than it didn't)

One thing someone pointed out to me was about how Tony Stark invented time travel.

To me, it looked like Cap, Nat, and Scott walked up, Tony shooed them away, then he saw that picture of Peter and decided to give it a shot, odds be damned.

What they corrected me on was that the night we see in Endgame (the one where Tony invents it) is, in fact, the night he FINISHED. In that this particular model that Tony ran was started that night, simulated that night, and worked that night - after an unspecified amount of time in those five years where he'd been trying and trying and trying.

Tony wasn't tossing out reasons for why time travel was a dumb plan based on academic research and theory. He'd BEEN trying. Bruce's baby-Scott mistakes were the rookie, early ones that Tony was so far beyond screwing up on at that point. He'd exhausted every idea he could think of before Cap and his crew came by. The smartest (surviving) man on Earth, and the guy who'd cross off every single stupid option just in case they missed something obvious (e.g., "Why don't we just throw the Time Stone down the garbage disposal?"), had not only already thought of something as insane as 'time travel', but didn't rule it out until he was actually incapable of doing it.

Then we have Morgan. New life. This is so, so important for his relationship with Peter and whole Irondad fandom: what Tony had with Peter was an assumed and close relationship that went kind of unspoken because "Tony Stark should never be a dad" and "Peter Parker doesn't need a third one". Or whatever your particular trope is - I love 'em all, but there was always that little something that kept them from being full-on, on-screen, publically Irondad and Spider-son. And now Peter is dead. And Tony can't change that. And then - in the midst of the entire universe's grief - there's a new life: Morgan.

Morgan is Tony's blood relation and a burst of tangible hope - his 'second chance,' he says to Cap (of what, Tony? Oooooh subtle Irondad) - in the waking knowledge that he failed and he's never going to fix it.

Morgan is Tony's cue to assume that he has to move on. No more playing with time travel theories that he can't make work anyway, and even if he could (but he can't), it'd be to go back and get the kid he loves but isn't technically his 'real' son. And get this - he KNOWS that because now he has a 'real' daughter, and to erase a blood relation 'just' to save an unspoken one? That's insane. He can't logically prioritize this any differently, and his reaction to Cap suggesting time travel shows us that Tony's assuming the only way (at that point) to get Peter back is to lose Morgan. It's why he essentially says, "Yes, what happened is very sad, but this is my life now and I'm going to make the best of it. It's time to stop living in the past." It's also why Tony's so insistent on Bruce's snap bringing every back to now, instead of bringing the survivors back to then and erasing his daughter: because the other option is TO erase his biological daughter to save his unbiologicial son that he's only known for two years.

So just think of all those nights before Endgame, where Tony tried and it never worked. And then think of how much less he tried when he had Morgan. Think of how many times he told himself to stop trying, to give it up already, to realize that it would never work, and to think of how immoral and psychotic it'd be to continue trying to trade one kid for a fake one. Imagine him finally putting those plans away for last time and turning off the lights, not bothering to say his goodbyes to Peter's memory 'cause who says goodbye to a ghost that he's failed to save now twice? (And not only that, but the ghost of a kid who seems to have hit all the same Dad-mode buttons that Morgan does, proving that shit beyond a doubt.)

When Cap comes back and Tony thinks on it and Tony sees that picture of him and Peter, it isn't some dramatic and spontaneous epiphany that he can invent time travel. It's that he can save Peter AND keep Morgan. That's what changes: it's what gets him to go from, "I have my second chance," to "Just make sure you bring everybody back to THIS year." He finally has permission to go back to trying, and that renewed commitment is what gets the job done.

So now take all of this - all those messy, lost years of grief and failure and painful hope and hurt and hope and hurt - and tack it onto the ending:

Tony gets Peter back. It's a great, super Irondad moment. Tony has just done the impossible: keep his daughter, save his son. And you all saw that reunion (lmao spoilers), and you know he's an official Dad now with five years to have mulled over how much he lost when he lost his first kid, which was the second thing out of his mouth when he got back to Earth after being rescued. Everyone's going to be fine, and as soon as they kill Thanos, Tony gets to have the perfectly complete family he's always dreamed of.

And THAT'S why it's a sacrifice, not a cheap death.

Tony, a Dad who's missed his son enough to invent time travel, and who knows how much he loves his daughter to virtually let half the universe stay dead for her, allows himself to die in order to save everyone.

I went at this thinking they'd killed Tony off, like they somehow forgot there's this whole thing with Peter to get back to. But it really is the massive sacrifice they said it was. All those armies were going to wipe out the Avengers et al., then kill everyone all over again. Tony had the opportunity and no one else would've gotten another one, so - and this is key - in FULL KNOWLEDGE of what he was about to lose, he traded his life for his kids. And I am still psycho-pissed, but that's something I want to explore from Peter's POV now, because Tony went into that conscious choice at peace with it. He wasn't going to let his kids die, and that's the Irondaddest mood we could've asked for in this movie.

WITH THAT SAID, and like I said, this is something to explore from Peter's POV. Tony knows how huge this sacrifice was, but I want to experience Peter feeling absolutely cheated by this. He just got back, turns out his will-they-or-won't-they-adopt-me Father-Figure moved on to have a 'real' kid, and now Tony's dead. I want to watch him learn how much of a sacrifice Tony made to save Peter - twice. I want him to find, like, taped trials and simulation notes across years of Tony trying to bring Peter back. I want to find a message that Tony made for Peter a while ago, because not only was Peter not mentioned in Tony's funeral-vid as if he didn't actually expect that time travel to work in a way that brought Peter back but killed Tony, but there's got to have been some sad I Miss You movies like he made for Pepper up in space.

I am so gutted by Tony's death, but so much less so about it being a middle finger to Irondad. It's FULL Irondad from Tony's POV. But I need some goddamn deleted scenes of the on-screen grief and some long-term mourning from Peter so I can really feel like the story had an ending and not an abrupt cancellation.

Anyway. Let's all recover from this together before FFH.

#avengers endgame #marvel endgame #avengers endgame spoilers #spoilers #endgame spoilers #endgame #marvel endgame spoilers #irondad in denial #iron man #iron dad #spiderson #spiderson confirmed #irondad and spiderson #tony stark #peter parker #still very raw about all this rn

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talkingismylifewrites · 6 years ago

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Man you already have my whole heart with the king au i love dominic and how much he wants to play mix and match (lmao) with the kids and ron seems like such a sweetie it would be so funny to see little blonde regina and dominic try to get this very catholic man to Let Loose once in a while

Originally I was gonna smack you in the face with some good ol’catholic angst but I decided to be nice considering I have another angst ask waiting to be posted. so here’s something only lightly angsty but sexy!! we’ll hold the angst for another day :)

so ron is Catholic which is a big deal because

a) he’s already knocked up his wife and had to marry her to avoid the scandal but she’s a famous rockstar so everyone knew anyways and

b) he’s now in a fully committed relationship with his wife’s best friend and bandmate and her boyfriend

and he would never ever ever change a thing because there are few things in life greater than waking up to see dom snoring like a foghorn while playing little spoon to johanna or regina attempting to hold the baby, make a bottle, and fix herself a cup of coffee in the morning

like he loves them so much

and he tries to tell them every single day

he tells them by making them dinner, or running them a bath, or letting regina pick the movie even though they know its going to be some weird scifi film they’ve never even seen but WHATEVER he’s gonna do it anyways

he gives backrubs and kisses and cuddles and twice a month he brings home flowers for his girls, always two bouquets, (one for regina one for johanna) and a new six pack of craftbeer for dom

he’s also a very generous lover once he got past the whole “i’m having sex with a man and my wife is having sex with a woman and oh no we’re technically both cheating”

because while he knows he’s not cheating because it’s legit just regina and dom

part of him is like oh no i have Broken My Wedding Vows

Dom and Regina hate when he does this because they’re like, yeah, so??? your wife has too like she is right now she’s literally fucking my boyfriend/your lover in the laundry room

BUT I DIGRESS

so ron is like, hey, reg, dom, you guys know that even though i can’t show you that i love you in public...i do, right?

and regina is like duh

and dom is like, yes, but i mean, you could show it better by CLOSING THE CEREAL BAG WHEN YOU’RE DONE, RON. YOU LEAVE IT OPEN AND THEN THE CORNFLAKES GO STALE AND HONESTLY, WERE YOU RAISED IN A BARN?? WE HAVE CHIP CLIPS FOR A REASON

(dom is very passionate about food)

so ron is Very Uptight when they’re in public and is like i will only ever look at johanna i will only touch johanna and i will not give us away because that is a Sin

meanwhile

regina is like, hey ron, ron, hey hey hey ron!! betcha i can get johanna off here under this table!! watch!!

and dom is like hey ron, just thinking, but like, that closet is TOTALLY big enough for the four of us to have sex in

regina’s like ron, do you like my panties??? its the back lace ones the ones you bought me?? do you??

or they’ll be at a dinner party with trusted friends and dom will just start regaling them with tales of the bedroom with stars in his eyes about how “ron made regina come like, seven times. like i thought she was gonna die but then she rolled over and was like, jo, fetch the strap, i’ve got time for a few more”

and even johanna’s like regina wanna see how soundproof the new soundproof booth is???

and ron is D Y I N G

becuase this is not what Good Wholesome Catholics Do!!!

and johanna is like, tbh, most GWC’s don’t knock up their girlfriends OR have an actual relationship with another couple

ron, face down on the table, groans for thirty-seven seconds straight

finally, regina and dom corner ron in his Quiet Place (the guest bathroom it has the most natural light and most people don’t think to look there first) and are like Look

we love you and we want to be with you but we’re getting the feeling that we’re making you uncomfortable

so we’re gonna back off, okay? and its not because we’re upset it’s because we love you and we want you to be comfortable

and they do

no more public sex (that ron is aware of) and no more sex talk in front of people

and for the first like, let’s say month, ron is like this is what it’s like to be a GWC!!!! and he’s like finally i can look my gran gran in the eye and not remember the fact that my WIFE sucked off our BOYFRIEND in her bathroom at Easter while our GIRLFRIEND whispered in my ear about how she was gonna ride me until she broke me once we got home

but then he realizes how much he misses their sly little looks?

like regina has this Face that she makes when she’s making mischief, and he didn’t realize how much he loved it

and dom? dom is the whisper king like he could just lean over to ron and whisper how he should meet him in the bathroom in five and ron would be instantly hard

and there was something fun about it, fooling around where they could be caught

because looking back on it, they never did it where they could be absolutely caught or where someone who didn’t know that they were in a relationship could find out

it was a secret only the four of them knew

he knows that the other three are still doing it, just not him, because dom and regina are exhibitionist and they practically get off on nearly getting caught

(honestly, jo and ron are shocked that they didn’t realize how much regina and dom loved them before, considering how much public sex they had. like, half the fun was fucking where jo might walk in)

finally, one day, he just snaps

its not really his fault, alright? he and dom had gone to go for a run in the park, and well, it was hot

and dom was sweating

and obviously he had to take off his shirt

and there was one stubborn drop of sweat that ron couldn’t help but watch run from behind his ear to drop down to pool in his collarbone

so ron did the rational thing and shoved dom into the wooded area behind the park and dropped to his knees to suck him off behind a tree cuz fuck anyone who might see them

when they finish, he ends up jogging back to the house silently, mulling everything over in his brain

and he locks himself in the guest bathroom and he stares at himself in the bathroom mirror

and he comes to terms with the fact that while he can be a Good Catholic he’ll never be what his mother calls Wholesome

but he’ll love his wife and their partners until the day he dies and when he gets to st. peter all he’ll say is “god help me but i loved them”

he leaves the bathroom, and all three of them are sitting, almost nervous, on the couch

and dom starts and he’s like, look, i’m sorry, if i made you feel like you had to do something you didn’t want to

and ron’s like good. please stop being so sexy when we’re just supposed to go out for a jog like wtf how is that possible for you to ALWAYS look good

and regina just continues and is like “we’ve talked it over again and we’re going to really change, okay--”and ron’s like i don’t want you guys to change because you’ve done nothing wrong. i just want to be with you guys

public sex and all

and regina is like thank fuck because let me tell you it’s so hard sometimes to not just like, jump you in the middle of dinner

they do talk it over and they promise not to do it near any member of ron’s family, anywhere where paps could find them, or where they could be arrested for public indecency

or at the very least, be extra extra sneak about it

that weekend, the four of them go out to dinner and johanna “drops” her fork

two months ago, ron would have been horrified and traumatized and embarrassed

but now?

all he can think about as he feels her hands run up the inseam of his pants while dom stiffens next to him

is how much he loves them

and how much they love him

and that no one else gets to know about it but him

(and melina because regina is a bitch and tells melina everything)

(EVERYTHING)

(the first time melina made a very knowing joke about how big ron’s dick was he choked on his food and had to get the heimlich from a very worried brianna)

(later, as he laid on the couch and recovered while a worried dom took care of him, regina turned to johanna and made a remark that they needed to work on his deep-throating ability if he was going to almost die on a blt)

#john/veronica/roger/dominique #genderbend #ot4 to end all ot4s #caro writes #answered asks #John Deacon #roger taylor #veronica tetzlaff #dominique beyrand #send me more hcs!!!

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