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the-firebird69 · 10 months

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You people you Trump's here wants you trumps are completely oblivious to what's happening you're ignoring tons of people saying stuff just to stand there and do stupid s*** like follow Lily around and try and capture her I see you doing tonight and the FEDS do too and all sorts of people you don't want attention from is it going after you using her as bait. Cuz you don't want to leave her alone you say she's trying to get you out and they haven't evicted you yet and now they're going to cuz you're pushing it she has not done it yet he is the one doing it and has not done it yet yet he's doing it to the neighborhood because you're sitting there pushing him and pushing him to do Max job and you are a a failure do you see what you're doing wrong he says no so you going to go to prison get sick guy get burned and say you're not that's fine the rest of us including him they don't want to go that route and can you see the logic it's a little late now he says but you pushing and pushing and pushing them until they get the idea and then they get motivated and then they get what they need printed the macs facilitating it but really you look atrocious he lost tons of stuff sitting there what are you stuck to him for it's kind of a curiosity isn't like you he's throwing you off and viciously and effectively you're going to court with the feds with the state, he's not really doing it but you are nailing yourself pretty good and we think a lot faster and harder and all of us are in a massive tailspin tell you what they're doing it to stop from being ridden and they keep on planting too and he can't stand it between the two of us are around it's going to be gone. And you ignore stuff that was making money and then you ruined all the factories I mean what happened to you you're doing nothing this helps us he's picking on the adventure guy inventor guy and he's like alone and looks really pitiful what you're doing and people beat you up and kill you all the time guy person he's a defenseless person I'm gonna kill you myself you're such an a******

Rey

I'm sick of you following people around you two assholes and kidnapping them and d****** with a harming them releasing them your cover for this guy Tommy f you stupid f****** assholes what do you want with Lily she doesn't know anything she's got a couple stories she told like a million times so get off my back I told people yeah the baby's got passed around and I got confused what do you think are they trying something if I knew the hell I could have or should have that's what she says what's your f****** problem is so dumb and what are you stuck to him for. You have an extorted damn thing from anyone doing this s*** Trump you're a freaking failure what we're going to have to drum you out of town everyone is and he's been saying you got to force the slime ball to stay away from me I can't believe how bad it is it is exactly why it's happening you're a wimp and a p**** you won't leave and he needs you out you try to do your ex and make up for it and all the s*** you said no way and it shouldn't be in this apartment he needs to do something that has plywood between I'll tell you what it's foreigners and the girl said it you know he said it he didn't have to but he felt to hey fish that's Mike Tyson as it's probably you, he's just the kind of a****** that challenged Mike Tyson and you probably should it's in there screw around with everybody and they have to because of your cops and you're such f****** assholes it's a nightmare you're a f****** nightmare and you go up to people for no reason and you're doing police harassment like 20 days in a row it's unbelievable I'm just going to shoot you from now on cuz I know better that's the only thing that works

I told you to get away from me Joe Watts and you look at what happens to you like nothing your brain becomes freaking batter I mean you're a f****** idiot already and you keep getting shot in the head a lot cuz you won't leave people want you to leave. What part of them saying leave here or we will shoot you in the head don't you get and it's not your compadres a****** you too Dan you don't understand that leave or you make your brain jelly. They don't say it directly but that's what's happening to you and why can't you just leave or you want to get shot in the head all the time

Zues Hera

So harassing you to tell us to leave and if you don't they shoot us in the head and that's what you're saying they're doing and everybody else does too what we say is we can't leave they shoot us in the head he says b******* it's because you're still here harassing me so I follow something I got stuff to get out it says use a stick later in your own ass I sort of get something the shooting is in the head cuz we keep coming back here Dan sounds stupid cuz it is

Trump

I sort of get something if we're getting shot in the head because we're here we should probably not be here and we keep coming back and people say we're stupid but we're getting hit in the head he says you don't get hit in the head every day but s*** I've heard stories and I don't have real Intel but I do see you getting arrested a lot and I guess that's not enough for you to do anything different about. And yeah they're the rest of us if we end up in prison we can get sick and die in the furnace I guess what we're saying is we don't feel like moving since I don't care if you feel like moving you get the f*** away from me you f****** turd there's some stupid ass parasite it's latched onto something that kills you dumb f*** I don't know what the f*** you're here for Dan you get the f*** out of here stupid s*** you people are so dumb people tell you to your face don't go there we're going to shoot you and here you are and you're going to be shot tomorrow or tonight you get shot like every f****** night it doesn't matter where idiot. I suppose if it's true we should probably ask people

Dan

Usually these two are being facetious we should probably ask them and they get shot because of being facetious and they also get shot because they're still here and this is everybody they do it every day and everybody's telling them you get shot and they don't listen and they start these night ass remarks and responses it gets them shot again and it won't stop coming back here this is something wrong with these two idiots I don't like them they're not my friends I don't want them here I don't need them here in any way and I certainly don't do anything except trying to get them in trouble and they get slaughtered now and I mean their armies and they said they themselves are getting slaughtered who's this idiot she's been killed every day stupid cuz you keep coming near me I don't want you near me what part of you getting shot every day when you come near me do you not understand

Zues Hera

We're not aware of it and stuff now we're aware of it I was being very mean and says to get away from you you say it all the time so we can't

Cheeseman

I'm simply saying get the f*** away from me you're dead and what you choose to do is come here and die that's your life you have to like respond to someone that way even though you die every time what kind of f****** moron are you but the ultimate moron

Zues

You're so effing stupid cheeseman people should shoot you for being stupid but seriously you're getting killed all the time for coming back to this apartment and they don't want you here bja doesn't and all his kids all the minority will lock we don't who the hell is having you come here but your own idiots so they're getting slaughtered out there you make up stories and then whoever you make up stories about goes after your people now there's something wrong with you people he just says you shouldn't be here there's other places you can be and yet you have to sit there cuz you're making him up uncomfortable and pissed off that's what your life is get yourself shot and shot in the head lose all your stuff your entire Army eventually be moved out cuz you want to sit here and be assholes to someone that's ridiculous you're mentally completely freaking gone

Hera

I'm sick of this we're going to pay someone to get you the hell out of here okay each other I mean this is so gross You're such f****** assholes we don't want you in any of our business driving by us with anything you'll start taking everything you have I'm so sick of hearing from you talking about him about everything turns out it's not him at all and he's f****** huge win bags and blow hearts I am so sick of you too f****** assholes in the third one he's such a f****** losers

I'm tired of this too everyone hates you stupid mother f****** trumps get the f*** out of the house we're going to rip you out tonight it's sitting there keeping them up cuz you're a f****** idiot that's why you have absolutely no concept of what you're doing you're following Lily around what the hell did she do nothing yet but she's going to evict you cuz you're following her around and we should we should force you to do it to get her to do it but we don't want you following her around yet you're still doing it and we went arrested you and here you are again bother you what the f*** is wrong with you idiots he says his idiots are doing it and his idiots are doing it and this f****** cheese ball does it because the foreigners are forcing their way in he says it's up to me it's my job stop having to do your f****** job cuz you're not going to have a job to do and you're not going to have any land or any businesses or anything cuz you just sit here yelling at these two f****** morons we should put it in the bars and and f****** throw gas at him and let him on fire I mean why is that so hard you can't figure out what gasoline does I mean these people should be burned obviously they're working for Florida's and don't know if they're stupid. And he's right you're getting four is in here and they're crushing you they hate you you just such a stupid a****** and people are talking about now don't have disrespect for him that's Mike Tyson you fish bagel what are you saying is you're sitting there being a total f****** douchebag he's not going to fight your battles he's just going to throw your tool and you just kept doing it and now you're like almost gone cuz you don't fight at all run around pissing people off I have to tell you that you two are a big problem he's not doing it either I sort of get the plan and it's his plan and it's the other clan but they're not there accepted by them and you just sit here saying that so what you die every day why do you want to get shot everyday to come to the stinking apartment it smells it's not comfortable here there's bugs everywhere everyone hates you and wants you out is this the atmosphere that you guys thriving I mean holy s*** you stupid

Mac

Read me a kind of sucks here we didn't know everybody hates us yeah there's some kind of petition and that's who wants to be us out of here and hates us it's a huge petition signed all sorts of people get out they say. And I guess we're old contraire and they come up and shoot us and that's the way it is in the head too and lots of times so I guess we don't care about it anymore Trump says

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kyberheart · 3 years

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A Deceitful Creation Part #1 - Wolffe x F!Reader

Part #2

Summary: You’ve been trying for a while now to get pregnant with your lover. Knowing that may never happen, you ask for some outside help from Wolffe on the down-low...

Word Count: 1483

Warnings: 18+, piv sex, infidelity, pregnancy/trying for a baby, cursing, angst

A/N: Heyyyyyyyy.... I’m still here! I had some stuff going on this past week so I missed my Friday fic upload, but hey! It’s Sunday, only missed it by a few days so whatever. I’m still working on part #3 of my little Techy-boy story. Hopefully will be finished by Friday the 3rd! Heh... part #3 on the 3rd... perfect. ANYWAY I hope you like this little blurb I wrote. I wanted maximum sad with lots of OOF. I kept the summary and header as vague as possible to not spoil the end. Good luck in there!

(Ao3 Link if ya want it)

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Wolffe was different with you. All teeth and tongue and nails dug into the plump flesh of your thighs. The look adorning his eyes in this moment is akin to a knife’s edge; he was holding back as not to tear you to shreds.

Your lover on the other hand, well… he was the whisper of a cool breeze in the night. A cascading avalanche of stolen breaths and languid strokes. Completely and utterly tender with you.

“C-close Wolffe, almost…I’m—!”

He nods, stooping to kiss you, but swiftly retracts his head with a tiny scowl. He knew the rules. No marks that can’t be covered up, no pet names, and under no circumstances can he kiss you. This was just a mutually beneficial transaction. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I got you… I got you…”

He’s reaching down, down, down to make contact with your clit. You keen, dropping your head back into the mattress. He fucks you through your orgasm, spilling inside of you as your legs wrap tightly around his waist. You tremble under him as you come down from your high. In a blur of muscle-memory Wolffe is reaching behind you for a pillow. He props your hips upward with it, grinding into you a few more times to make sure his seed is in there nice and deep.

“If this isn’t the one, I’m not sure if I can help. Maybe what they say is true, maybe we’re all infertile. I mean, I’ve heard rumors of defectors running off and getting people knocked up, but…” He shrugs, pulling out of you to head into the ‘fresher. You sigh, staring at the grey ceiling above you. That really wasn’t the case. Some were infertile, yes. You knew that all too well…

“I’m headed out. I have a supply run to facilitate. You alright?”

Wolffe grunts as he snaps his scratched armor around himself. He wasn’t much for conversations after the act. Rather, he preferred to be on his merry way as fast as possible. It wasn’t so much to avoid catching feelings as it was to steer clear of talking. He was undoubtedly the most stand-offish of the clones you knew. You were often surprised at how easy it was to lure him into the bedroom with how hostile his demeanor could be. Though on second thought he was just a normal guy. Sex is just as fun for him as it is for others.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks Wolffe. If this one doesn’t stick I’ll leave you alone.”

He pauses to search your face. You smile at him, wrapping your arms around your chest with a sleepy yawn. A garbled message blips from his forearm, which he answers with a quick acknowledgement before seating his helmet onto his head.

“Understood. I’ll see you around. Say hi to my vod for me when he gets back.”

And with that, he’s silently leaving your apartment into the void beyond. In the silence of the room your mind wanders once more. You think of your lover. Where was he right now? Somewhere far, far away? Somewhere he was safe? Was he warm, fed, and happy?

The cool dribble of Wolffe’s cum down your thigh snaps you from your rumination. You glance at the clock, finding it’s already been twenty minutes since he’d left. More than enough time, you think. With a quick curl of your spine you’re up on your feet and heading to the ‘fresher for a nice long shower. Hopefully when you were out you’d have a comm or a message from your lover.

----------------- He hunches low, lips hovering so close to your ear his hot breaths could have burned a hole through your head.

“That’s it baby, such a good girl. Just a—oh, squeezing me so tight tonight, huh? This’ll be the one, the kriffing ONE. Gonna fuck you full, fill you up to bursting. Make you s-swell with my baby. Can’t wait to see you like that… all mine…”

You cum so hard the world around you dissipates into nothing but him. He growls, pitching you forward with his angled thrusts. His hips crush you into the bed as he cums right along with you. His amber eyes sizzle with freshly tapped desire. Whispered adorations mingle between the two of you, lost to the spinning darkness of the night. When you’ve calmed your heaving breaths, you reach up to grab one of the pillows above you. He helps you position it under your hips before kissing you roughly. Between pecks, he speaks with a heart full of gentle sweetness.

“I’ll keep doing this—you’ll see. We’ll have a little one running around before you know it. Our little adi’ka… yeah…”

His eyes grow distant, lips stilling at the nape of your neck. You huff, smacking his shoulder with your hand.

“I know babe, don’t worry. With how much you’ve been between my legs I think we’ll be having LOTS of them running around.”

You wink at him, leaning up to kiss him again. He chuckles, reciprocating your heavy prodding tongue with his own within your mouth.

“I just… I know we’ve been trying for over a year… what if I...”

You shoot him a frown, tilting your head up to look him straight in the eyes. The fact of the matter was daunting and sat like tepid acid on your tongue. If he knew he wasn’t able to sire children, it would truly break him.

“NO! You are perfectly fine the way you are. I’d know, remember? I’m chief medical officer here dummy. You—WE have nothing to worry about. It’ll happen when the time is right. Trust me.”

He smiles at you, the sight of which could warm even the frostiest planet of Hoth into the dunes of Tatooine. All your love, all your patience and turmoil and sympathy and curiosity and… kriff, you’re everything was him. All him, always was and always will be. Him.

-------------------- The vividness of your dream wakes you with a start. It seemed to be recurring the last few days, a memory of the last time you and your lover were together. You shake your head of the images that haunted you. If only he was home, you wouldn’t worry so much about him.

It had already been a few weeks since Wolffe had occupied your bed. A queasy feeling was beginning to settle low in your stomach. Your lover hadn’t been back in a long while, and you were starting to think something wasn’t right.

You rise to pee, realizing in the dimly lit hush of dawn that this was becoming a frequent occurrence for you. When your shirt brushes a bit too roughly against one of your nipples you yelp. Were they always so sore in the morning? Wait…

Could this be it? A surge of adrenaline hits you like a Hammerhead Corvette as you rush into the ‘fresher. Not long after, you have a small white strip laying on your counter. Your knee bobs with anticipation, head in your hands as you sit on the hard tiled floor. This might just be it!

As the lines swell in the tiny viewport, you force yourself to breathe as deeply as possible. The memory pushes it’s way to the front of your mind once more to taunt you, to make you feel a twinge of guilt at what you’ve done. With a groan you run your fingers soothingly through your hair. You knew you could do this. Joy, passion, and relief would pave over the deceit from which this baby would be born. Your lover would never know the truth, but it was unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Forging a life, a family for the two of you was all that mattered right now.

The time is up. The minutes counted down with bated breaths. A scream tears its way from your throat as you see the result:

Pregnant

Before you can have a full-blown excitement meltdown, a beeping from the other room draws your attention. Your comm sits on your nightstand, signaling you of an incoming message. The words flash on the screen as you wipe tears from your eyes:

Dropping in to save a Jedi Master on Lola Sayu. Don’t worry, should be home before your pretty little head hits the pillow. See you soon my love. My heart is yours, forever.

Oh, you were squealing with delight now. It was finally happening! For REAL! This was a dream come true. A baby… you were going to have a baby! And your lover was going to be home by the end of the day. You wanted to comm him, send him a picture of the test, yell it to the kriffing UNIVERSE that you were fulfilling a long-awaited dream. Both of you were. You calmed yourself, resolving to tell him in person when he got home.

You couldn’t wait until Echo was back!

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watevermelon · 3 years

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Jealous | Eita Semi x Reader

✧ Summary: You thought you were content with your relationship so far - Semi was your best friend and these past few years were some of the most memorable. But all of that quickly changes with some outside forces. ➳ Tags: Angst with a happy ending; some humor

Navigation

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Four years ago, it would have been a strange sight to see you, an up-and-rising wing-spiker, sitting on the sideline of the Shiratorizawa volleyball team. Being the female team’s manager was nice, but just as ambiguous as the adjective. You sorely ached to be back as an active member on the court and you seemed to radiate that very thought throughout the schoolyear.

At the end of your first-year you were switched from official wing-spiker to sub-pinch server. That was a huge demotion in your eyes, but a position you would gladly accept now. You knees were deteriorating from overuse and it was only facilitated at the Spring Tournament during your first-year. A bad-land from a spike and you tore your ACL. From that injury, there was no going back. That took you off the regular team for the rest of the year, since your doctor recommended six-months of healing.

Torn ACL’s do not heal and you did not want to undergo surgery, since it would only prolong your time away from the court. That decision was terrible in itself, but you reasoned that your volleyball career would end after high-school. So the long-term implications did not affect your future in sports since you did not envision one.

But your career ended sooner than you thought.

You did not seek the advice of the athletic trainer or even your coach and attempted to do the same work-outs as the rest of the team. And for a good amount of time, they bought your act. It seemed you were a miraculous healer, despite the urgings of both your parents and physicians. Dates set aside for physical therapy were skipped and you opted to make yourself useful to the team.

But you were doing just the opposite.

The women of Shiratorizawa’s volleyball team had their eyes set on nationals and it seemed that you were on the right track. The team earned their spot in the finals of the Interhigh Tournament, garnering attention against Niiyama High. You were set to serve, aiming directly for the serious face of Amanai Kanoka. Mid-stride, something did not feel right and you landed, not on your feet, but on your front-side.

You looked up from your prone form on the ground to see the horrified faces of your teammates and opponents. The usually loud section of Shiratorizawa’s student body was stunned silent and everyone’s eyes were fixated on your figure. First aid was able to hoist your motionless body onto a stretcher and time seemed to momentarily stop. You could still distinctly recall the perturbed faces of your friends and family. In that very instant, you felt your heart crack and silently whispered goodbye to your beloved sport.

Your torn ACL developed into a long-lasting chronic deficiency and you were slowly losing control in knee movement.

Pity.

That was the only word to describe the certain expression other people gave you after the fact. Volleyball held a large amount of prominence on campus and the fact that nearly everyone saw your fall – it was humiliating. You were taken completely off the team and instead ushered into surgery and rehabilitation for your knee.

Many of your teammates attempted to show compassion and understanding for your situation, but they would never truly understand. You had accepted, deep in your heart, that even if you had undergone surgery early your knee would continually depreciate. It was only a matter of time.

The coach could understand your reasoning, but cursed your insolence. It hurt her that you desperately wanted to help the team, to the point of sacrificing your future. If she had known, she would have taken you off the starting-line in an instant. But there was no second chance, no benefit in asking what if’s.

The previous manager of the women’s team was leaving with graduation and you inherited her spot. On more than one occasion, you wondered if staying on as manager would really help you emotionally. It was your own personal hell, watching your previous teammates engage in volleyball and never getting the chance to join.

Graduation liberated many of your friends and majority of the people who observed your deterioration first-hand were gone. New volleyball teams were forming and you missed most of their names. Without the use of it on the court, it was harder to connect and really converse with the fresh first-years. You knew the names of the promising few – Goshiki Tsutomu was a hard one to miss. There were also two exemplary female wing-spikers, but Shiratorizawa’s team ran both deep and wide.

With all this distance, you would often miss much of the drama from those outside your year. Many of the other volleyball players made an effort not to bar you and updated you daily on news. Tendou was the number one instigator and you would often hear a warped version of the gossip from him first.

None of the male players were in the same class, ironically. There was one in each class and you shared yours with Eita Semi for the past three years. You were the closest to the mom of the group and he would usually clarify new gossip to you.

The groupchat shared amongst both the men’s and women’s volleyball team usually went ignored in your pocket. Once in a while, you would contribute a dank meme or comment. But for now, you tended to silently witness the drama unfold. Amongst the newly minted third-years was a groupchat just for you guys, both the girls and boys teams, which was the one you and Tendou seemed to haunt.

As such, you were texting away in the middle of class. You sat with Semi, who was diligently writing notes and following along with the teacher. Neither had yet to see you, but no matter who it was, they would pluck the phone right out of your hands.

GC: We’re the captains now. <(￣︶￣)>

12:43 From:s u f f e r i n g (。□°） I’m just saying, we can fight him.

12:43 From: Ushiwaka-sama I would prefer to leave the setter intact

12:43 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ） Are we ignoring the problem of Goshiki????

12:43 From: Captain-Sama! He’s a wing-spiker not a middle-blocker. You don’t have to worry about your spot

12:43 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ） ExCuSe youuuuuuuuuuu

12:44 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ) I wouldn’t be afraid even if he was

It was severely clear to all volleyball members that your spot as a regular was never safe (unless of course your name started with a U and ended with -shiwaka.)

The coaches of either team were relentless in their words and would drop a team member if they showed enough weakness. And you would not be surprised even in the slightest if the essential vice-captain of the men’s team was benched for the newfound first-year. The anomaly of Goshiki Tsutomu could be found in the fact that he seemed to be the complete foil of his older teammates. Despite this, he showed the most promise and you almost wanted to bet money that he would be a regular by the Spring High Tournament.

12:44 From: Ushiwaka-sama Your numerable amount of question marks show your lie.

12:44 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ） Why don’t you shut the fuck up

12:44 From: Ushiwaka-sama But I didn’t say anything

12:45 From: Captain-Sama! LMAO but seriously Soekawa has nothing to worry about

12:45 From: s u f f e r i n g (。□°） Even if he does I think we can take the coconut-head.

12:45 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ） O mi god good one (f/n) I’m about to set his nickname as that

12:46 From: Okaasan/Eita Why don’t you take your own advice and stfu salami

12:46 From: Captain-Sama S C R E A M I N G

Okaasan/Eita has changed “Guess Monster (▼へ▼メ)” ‘s nickname to, “the most tender Salami”.

12:46 From: s u f f e r i n g (。□° ) I can’t breathe

12:47 From: Ushiwaka-sama Lol

True to your word, you were laughing with almost no control while Semi was trying not to have his smile break his stern façade. You covered your mouth to stifle the giggles and the fact that the literal volleyball idiot wrote “Lol” you had no doubt he was laughing as well a few classrooms over.

Those in your immediate vicinity subtly turned to look at you and you had to pretend to bend-down to pick up a pencil to hide your laughter. You thanked Semi for the umpteenth time for grabbing these seats in the back that were far from the teacher’s reproach.

Once you were settled, Semi commented, “The aim of my remark was to calm you all down.”

It was hard to focus in class usually, but after a morning like that you were done. English was your forte and you had no problems with the subject, even in an advanced class focused on the western world’s literature. The Great Gatsby was your shit.

13:34 From: Captain-Sama I have detention now Eita. I hope youre happy

13:34 From: Okaasan/Eita What did I do????

13:34 From: Captain-Sama I literally started screaming at the name

13:34 the most tender Salami At least someone else is suffering too

13:34 the most tender Salami My ass is getting blasted on the shared gc help

13:35 From: s u f f e r i n g (。□° ) Hey remember that time you locked me in the men’s locker room

13:35 From: s u f f e r i n g (。□° ) Karma beyotch

13:35 From: the most tender Salami LMAo thanks for that reminder ugh that was the funniest day I almost feel better

You frowned at your phone and Semi noticed your reaction, “That’s your fault. You brought it up.”

The two of you were done with class for the rest of the day and were casually lounging around his dorm room. His roommate, Reon Ōhira, was in class 4 and had a different schedule from the two of you.

You were laid-out across his bed, backpack carelessly thrown on the floor against his desk. Semi was previously occupied with whatever he does on his laptop, but now he was catching-up with the groupchat. This was incredibly normal and it was almost second-nature for you to lounge in his room. Your roommate, the captain of the women’s team, often noted this with certain intentions.

It was no secret that you and Semi were something.

You flirted nonchalantly and he had an overall friendly personality — it seemed entirely natural. Your relationship had blurred lines and no clear mutual understanding. The two of you could hold hands and he could get away with the occasional kiss on your cheek. And if anyone asked if you were in a relationship, you would say no. Semi would do the same.

There was one occasion during your second-year that pushed Semi’s buttons to the point where he made your relationship known. You could count the amount of female third-years on your hand and still have fingers to spare. This, in Tendou’s eyes, left barely any possible suitors that he would seriously be interested in. And of all people, the eyes of the guess monster settled on you.

Tendou was a somewhat of a Kuudere, in your words. He was not cold, but incredibly blunt and cared on the inside. He had the type of attitude that would not seem to care if their crush noticed them. Instead, he took it a step further, to compliment said crush to other people and claim not to like them. And because he was so damn loud and incredibly obvious, the other male volleyball players seemed to notice and their gazes would casually linger on you.

You would dismiss their sudden interest as only aesthetic-deep and not take any other crushes seriously, especially Tendou. His crush bounced from girl to girl and this was a well-known fact, simply because he could admire a good looking person and not get emotionally attached. However, this was easier when the girl was in his class and not as immediate as on the volleyball team.

Tendou would highlight the specific beauty of your smile or hair casually and the other third-years would calmly agree. Semi could see it all. He was in a private groupchat with those boys and you were the topic of their conversation more than once. He would see the friendly pat on the head from Reon as he complimented your cross-spike. Or how you would converse with Ushijima and his eyes would loiter even after you walked away. Or how you would smile brightly at Yunohama’s jokes.

Tendou and Ushijima’s shared dorm was secretly party central, the later surprisingly okay with socializing on a daily basis. But you normally hung-out with Semi, in his room. And recently you had been getting more and more invitations to their room. He was hella annoyed and would often drag you right after class to chill with him instead.

This did not change the fact that Tendou was aggressive and this led to the day of Semi’s snapping. Tendou was waiting outside of your classroom and once he spotted you, he stepped right between you and Semi to sling a lazy arm across your shoulders.

“Finally we are graced with Friday. No homework to worry about for tomorrow and even better, it’s a rest day for volleyball!” Tendou was narrating the day as the three of you walked, Semi pushed all the way to the side. “Shall we let go of our inhibitions to celebrate this rare occasion?”

You lightly attempted to push off his hold on you, but he did not budge. “Sorry Tendou, not exactly in the mood to go off campus tonight.”

“That’s perfectly alright with me,” He deflected the rejection, “Waka is leaving tomorrow morning so we can chill in the dorm.” Certain ideas were undoubtedly forming in the minds of two growing teenage boys and Semi did not hide his disapproval. Instead, he sighed loudly and had the urge to grab you right out of Tendou’s grasp.

“What do you plan on doing with just me tonight, Tendou?” You teased.

He only laughed and ignored your question, “So how about it?"

“I prefer to get my homework done before the weekend, so that’s what I’ll be preoccupied with tonight.” You answered and Semi smirked at your response.

He bristled at your retort and kept pushing, “Well. I know you like that cheesecake place downtown—”

“Can’t you take a hint, Tendou?” Semi asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, but once I lay my eyes on a beautiful girl there’s no way I’ll let her go.” Tendou affirmed and tightened his hold on your shoulders.

You blushed at his confidence, “Ha. Well, determination is a dangerous thing.” Semi noted your flushed appearance and the fact that you had not pulled away from his hold.

No way, not on his watch.

Your flustered looks and affectionate embraces were meant for him and him alone.

Was Tendou’s unwavering resolve really getting to you? The red-head would constantly shower you with compliments and it was only a matter of time that it would infiltrate your brain. Meanwhile, he would offer you vague responses and a sparse amount of sentiments.

With his mind made-up, Semi grabbed you right out of Tendou’s filthy arms and into his own. “Sorry. But she’ll be busy with me.” You were nestled underneath his neck and his arm was wrapped lightly around your waist.

The message he was sending was clear and if it was not, Semi sure as hell would be ready to provide more.

Instead of being heart-broken or defensive, Tendou immediately turned the situation around, “Busy doing what?” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“Staying the hell away from you.” Semi sassily replied and attempted to walk away with you in his grasp.

Tendou took the message in stride and went further to ship the two of you together for the rest of the schoolyear. The others must have received the message and they laid off from their previous flirting. Well, most of them. The only person unaffected by Semi’s wrath was the great volleyball idiot himself. But it was generally understood that he never really knew the implications of his actions.

Since then, there was no real progression in your public and private relationship with Semi. You hit every milestone with stride: prolonged hugs, kisses on the cheek, and even a sleepover when your roommate was away with her boyfriend. You were happy with how things were now and you feared if you talked about it, it would end. With no real reason to address the subject, the two of you continued with your relationship. He was there when you were sad and you surely did the same for him.

The second-year of high-school was your turning point. Your first-year friendship could be described as average, simply two members of the same game. Classmates and admirers of volleyball, you were cordial for ordinary reasons. After your injury, it was hard to personally connect with anyone.

But Semi could do what the others could not. Your second-year came with the introduction of Kenjirō Shirabu. He was a salty little douche and before the Spring High Tournament he was the official setter for the men’s volleyball team. The teammates that Semi had fostered and grown with since middle school were suddenly dragged away from him. And there was nothing he could do. His best was suddenly not good enough and he fell short to a first-year.

You connected on a level that the others could not understand. Being cut from a team was like being abandoned, but it was no one’s fault but your own. And that fact hurt more than anything. Try as you might, there was nothing either of you could really do to regain your prominence.

You found comfort in one another and it was highly noted by the other team members.

“What’s with the face?” Semi asked, noting your saddened facial expressions.

You paused and then sat-up, “We’re graduating this year.”

“Just because we’re leaving this school, doesn’t mean we’ll stop being friends.” Semi comforted. Friends… That word would continue to haunt you. You were friends, incredibly close with few secrets between the two of you. Your relationship was once in a lifetime and soon there would be more than emotional barriers separating you two.

It was not until the autumn formal that you recognized first-hand the complications of desire.

Someone asked Semi to the formal. And it had not been you. But he still said yes.

You heard this secondhand from Reon, a week after the girl had initially asked. Did he hesitate? Did he even think of you? Did he… have feelings for the girl?

She was someone unrecognizable from Ushijima’s class and you had spotted her after having lunch with just the ace. Social Media was a big thing and of course Shiratorizawa Academy had a team-spirit page that highlighted all sorts of shit. And of course, there were the posts about who was going with who to the formal. ((promposals cough))

You were unsure if you had ever seen her before. But after noticing her, you seemed to see her everywhere. She was beautiful in every way you were not – incredibly feminine and keeping up with her appearance. Flowing blonde hair that went past her elbows and she seemed to always sport a dress. Semi was not distant in any way and it seemed like he was never going to bring it up with you unless you took the initiative.

You asked once or twice about the girl and he waved off that she was very pretty and very determined. She seemed to exceedingly fancy him and would not take no for an answer. And he had no real reason to say no. No real reason. Your heart ached at his simple words. If you were no “real reason,” then you sure were not going to continue this way.

There was a month until the formal and that meant an entire month with having this loom over your head. Semi never indicated he wanted more than friendship and it seemed that was not enough for him. So you pulled away. This was hard since you sat together, but it was definitely different than usual.

You would brush off his invitations to hang-out, which was increasingly hard since you literally spent every waking day together. It hurt you, but it was a good wake-up call. If he did not think more of you, then it was about time you lessened this heavy dependence you had on him. It was an eventual problem that he would find a significant other, but now it was finally before you. You were no masochist and distanced yourself from the constant sorrow. On one occasion, you replied, “Why don’t you hang-out with your date instead?” It was petty and low, but true. You were being replaced. Why would he hang-out with you if he’s got another female on his line?

You addressed this with Reon, but he defended Semi saying that the two were only friends. Semi agreed on a whim, with no real intention of dating the girl or progressing as far as he had with you. But you denied this and stopped talking about it with the two altogether.

You were gleaning out the window, ignoring your lunch and sitting with the guess monster and his ace. “Stop frowning, (F/N)-chan. If it bothers you that much just talk to him.”

“Why should I even bother? He already made up his mind.” You pushed your already minute lunch away.

“Wow, giving up already?” Tendou mocked.

“It’s been three years. If he wanted to do something he would have.”

“You’re wrong, (F/N)-chan.” Salami countered, “Semi has already done something. He told me off, that’s for sure.”

“That was so long ago.”

“What have you done?” Ushijima interjected.

“I’ve never accepted any other man’s affection - not dates, chocolates, late-night talks.” You outwardly groaned and nearly slammed your head on the desk, “I’m about to graduate high-school and I’ve never been kissed.”

Even Tendou laughed at this fact, “Wow, (F/N)! I’d be willing to volunteer.”

You lifted your head to glare at him, “That is unnecessary.” Ushijima stated. “You have proven a great loyalty, it seems.”

“Great.” You mocked, voice dripping with sarcasm, “And this worked out so well for me.”

“It is a rare quality, one that I surely admire you for having.” You sat-up completely, back straight from surprise and eyes glued to the auburn-haired ace that continued eating like his words meant nothing. Even Tendou paused from his causal demeanor to narrow his eyes at Ushijima.

A grin reappeared on his face, one that surely spelt trouble, and he proposed, “Why don’t you two go to the formal together?”

You both paused and shared momentary eye-contact. His eyes appeared mostly impassive, but you had spent enough time with him to notice his questioning gaze. His left eyebrow was slightly upturned and you tilted your head in question.

“I cannot see an immediate reason not to.”

“Me neither."

“Then it’s settled!” Tendou got up to stand by the middle of the table, flippantly placing his hands on both of your shoulders, “Let’s send a post to the Shiratorizawa page so it’s official. Ah so cute, Waka and (F/N) at the dance together!”

Ushijima commented that was extremely superfluous, why should anyone care/know? You reasoned the same way, but Tendou claimed that it was not official until it was on the social media page. You both shrugged and prepared to pose for a picture over lunch.

“No, no. This looks totally lame.” He ended up dragging the both of you outside, in the middle of the quad during common hour. Tons of students were walking by and watched as Tendou modeled the two of you.

He settled on putting Ushijima’s hand on your waist and angled your front facing the ace. Your head was turned back towards the camera and you had a hand on his chest. This position was entirely intimate and even the dense Ushijima commented this, but Tendou waved it off. You wondered what crazy things Tendou could get his roommate to do.

Tendou was having a blast, taking multiple pictures from different angles on his phone. You wondered: how good could it possibly look? You were sporting your Shiratorizawa uniform and Ushijima was in his usual track-suit. You could hear the whispering and it seemed that posting the picture would be redundant, almost everyone saw the two of you posing like this!

The three of you returned back to your lunch table and upon sitting down, you received a brand new notification.

[Instabook] Slide to unlock and see new tagged post

Looks like the two most elusive volleyball bachelor/ette’s have snagged each other! Be sure to check-out this cute couple at the fall formal! Tagged: Ushijima Wakatoshi and (F/N)(L/N)

Attached: 1.jpg, 2.jpg, 3.jpg, 4.jpg

“Was it really necessary to send in all those pictures, Tendou?” You asked.

“They tell us to send multiple and they’ll pick the best one! Whoever the account owner is, they are the ones who decided on showing all of those!”

“But four?”

“I sent in ten. And four is the max they can post, so they must really like you guys.” Tendou teased. Almost instantly, you were getting more and more notifications.

People you had never met before were liking the post and it was embarrassing at how much attention this was garnering! You weren’t even dating! Your phone was constantly vibrating from Instabook and you muted the app entirely – you’d return to it later at the end of the day. Sadly, the volleyball team was quick to react too.

GC: Caw Caw SHIRATORIZAWA ୧༼✿ ͡◕ д ◕͡ ༽୨

14:57 From: Captain-Sama! um wtf is this Attached: THEpost.jpg, receipts.jpg, wtf.jpg

14:57 From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` ) Not the otp but I still ship it

14:57 From: Coconut-head Senpai’s gf is so cute (๑꒪▿꒪)*

14:57 From: the most tender Salami You can thank me

14:57 From: Captain-Sama! y tf would I do that

14:57 From: the most tender Salami I got the ship sailing

14:57 From: the most tender Salami And got usiwaka to ask (f/n)-chan

14:58 From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩ And u stil cant get urself a date??

14:58 From: the most tender Salami I’m going to ignore that and show off this CUTE COUPLE Attached: lunchdate.jpg, imthechaperone.jpg

Tendou was showcasing photos he literally took then and there, of you and Ushijima conversing over lunch. It could be viewed entirely as innocent, but after the previous posts it seemed to imply something. Tendou noticed that Semi had seen the chat already, but had yet to respond.

14:58 From: Captain-sama! Are they dating???????????????

14:59 From: the most tender Salami Nah, but theyre too busy to respond to the chat ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

14:59 From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩ OH SHIT

14:59 From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` ) WE’RE NOT OLD ENOUGH ( ಠ - ಠ )

15:00 From: Captain-Sama! I WANT PICS

Reon and Semi were discussing the subject in the comfort of their private dorm. It was clear to the tan boy that you were bothered by Semi agreeing to go to the formal and not even telling you! It was only now that Semi was understanding this and he looked to his roommate for guidance.

“I already told that girl I’ll go with her…” Semi was attempting to sort his thoughts, “But I don’t want to hurt (F/N).”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Reon interjected, “You already did that.”

Semi burrowed his head into his hands, “Does (F/N) think I’m replacing her? She means so much to me, that’s absurd.”

“You didn’t exactly tell her that you were going to formal with someone else.” Reon explained, “How would you feel if your closest friend was going to an intimate dance with a date that you never met before?” Semi massaged his temples further, feeling the oncoming migraine that usually came associated with a certain second-year setter.

His thoughts were unclear and the constant vibrating of both their phones were not helping his mental state, “What is happening?”

Reon browsed through his phone first and frowned, “Well. It seems a certain someone’s affection never fully disappeared from last year.”

Semi narrowed his eyes and picked up his phone to see your face splayed across the screen. A smile graced your face and it was clear who was the cause behind it. Ushijima’s smile was rare and came at random moments, but it was encased in memory through the photograph. He almost screamed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Semi threw his phone on the bed before collapsing face first into it.

“On the chat, it seems Tendou was the one who pushed them together.” Semi punched his pillow at the mention of the brash Salami. “And they’re not dating, just going to the dance together.”

Semi let out a string of incomprehensible words into his comforter. “This is Ushiwaka. He’s not like Tendou, with the endless list of crushes. He’s genuine all the time and complimented (F/N) without hesitation. As in, I’m fucked.”

Reon was inwardly rolling his eyes, it was only when Semi was entirely comfortable with the other person or very enraged that he let loose his short-tempered side. And it seemed Semi was both, right at this moment.

You broke off from Tendou and Ushijima to retreat back to your dorm room. Ushijima agreed to have dinner with you later, in hopes of coordinating your outfit for the formal. It seemed the post of the two of you was the most popular on the entire page and you would have to dress to impress the audience.

Upon entering, you were ambushed with questions from both your roommate, Reon, and strangely Shirabu.

“(F/N), what the fuck.”

“You better not hinder his abilities as ace!”

“Did you just come from lunch with him?”

You blinked at the assault and then sat-down. “One, we’re not dating. So I will not be a distraction for him, I assure you. This is mostly Tendou’s doing anyway.”

Shirabu nodded at the explanation and then walked towards the door, stopping to put a hand on your shoulder first, “Good enough. Have a good time then.” And with that he walked out of the room. Shirabu was a special type of kid, everyone knew. At least he had the best intentions at heart?

“Seriously?” Your roommate and captain of the female volleyball team asked, showing off her impeccable vernacular.

“Come on.” You threw your bag to the side of your bed.

“How did this even start?” She sat down on her own bed as Reon rested on your desk chair.

“I was talking about y’know, what’s been bothering me recently. And Tendou suggested that there was no real reason to stop Ushijima and me from going to the formal together.”

“And what? Ushijima just asked on the spot after that?” She asked.

“Yeah, pretty much. And then Tendou made a big spectacle of it by making us pose for a picture.”

“A top three ace in the entire country and 190 centimeter of pure man, and you are the one to have tamed him. Holy shit, good job.” She commended.

Your eyes nearly fell out of your head and Reon could not stop his sudden coughing fit. “We are not dating.”

“Just the pure fact that Ushijima had no reason to not ask you, wow.” She commented. “If it was any other girl he would have scroll of reasons that would hit the floor with a speech to go along with it.”

“There’s no way.” You countered.

“Do you honestly think there are no implications?” Reon asked.

“Yeah, if anything he’s doing it as a favor.” You answered offhandedly, realizing your mistake instantly. It was natural to speak candidly to the two. However, it was clear that Reon would die defending Semi and thus you stopped speaking to him previously about the situation.

“A favor?” He asked, just as you had thought.

You hesitated. It was not in you to lie and it was only a matter of time before Tendou gave further details to the rest about the situation. “We were talking about Eita-kun before he asked me.”

“What about Eita?”

“Just how really messed up this situation is.” You decided on being vague.

Reon did not take the hint and continued to push the subject, “Why is it messed up?”

“You know why,” You gave him that look, like really bro, “I guess that’s what I get for assuming.

“What did you assume?” Your roommate asked, this time.

“I stayed loyal to him and I never gave into anyone. Never accepted chocolates or dates or anything. And I just assumed he would do the same?” Reon sat back in the chair, obviously mauling over your words.

“Well that is mostly true, with the exception of one person.” Both you and your roommate shot him questioning looks, unsure where he heard that from. “Isn’t it true you did extra practice with Wakatoshi for a whole month?”

“I don’t think volleyball counts as accepting affection.” Your roommate countered.

“Do you see who we are talking about?” Reon explained, “Our beloved ace lives and breathes volleyball. And he shared a good amount of that time alone with you. If you wanted to practice so badly, why not with Eita? He was the official setter.”

“Because Ushijima asked me personally.”

“And you accepted. You voluntarily spent an extended amount of time with him, engaging in the sport he loves and you didn’t think anything of it?”

“Of course not! I would have accepted practice from anyone else on the team.”

“I think that’s where you do not understand.” Reon paused, attempting to fully devlop his next few words before conveying them to the two of you. “You’re treating this extremely casually. But these are all boys who had no problems with showering you with compliments last year. Take a step back and really think about the situation.”

Your roommate interjected, “Okay, hold on. So Tendou and the boys tried to carelessly compliment (F/N) and after that she accepted one of those boy’s request to spend time with him.”

“We are not talking about some irresponsible boy. This is Wakatoshi, the most serious and straight-forward idiot to exist.”

You were sat on the bed, hands currently encasing your head in obvious stress and over-thinking. “But that’s not how I saw it! Ohmyfuckinggod.”

“I suggest you amend the situation, (F/N)-chan.” Reon advised, “I left him alone in the dorm, please talk to him.”

But you were already out the door. You had a growing list of reasons why you were an idiot and this misunderstanding definitely topped the list. You had to tell Eita that Ushijima would never hold a place in your heart like he did. It was impossible for Ushijima to have feelings for you, that was definite. Ever since your unofficial parting from Eita, you had spending more time with the ace. However, you would often be expressing your sadness about Semi and he knew entirely about your feelings. Wakatoshi was a bro.

And it was important that Semi knew that.

You tapped on his door, rapid and loud enough that you were sure other people in the hall heard it. There was a light shuffling inside and it seemed like there were multiple voices.

Semi opened a slight crack of the door with narrowed eyes, but when they landed on you they widened with obvious shock. “(F/N), what are you doing here?”

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I was talking with Reon and I think I need to say something before I regret it. Can I come inside?” Semi scratched the back of his ear in thought and did not move to allow you in.

“Who’s at the door, Eita-kun?” And right before your eyes was the blonde date he agreed to go to the formal with.

Semi could literally see and feel your heartbreak. When your eyes traveled from her smiley disposition to him, he saw the narrowing – the pure anguish written across your face. It was something he never wanted to see ever again. The poor boy would do anything for you and it physically pained him that the cause of your sorrow was from him.

You swallowed your pride and yelled out, “I’m sorry for interrupting!” You ran down the hall, not caring that the door to Tendou and Waka’s room opened as you sprinted past it.

“Did you hurt her?” Wakatoshi asked a stunned Semi, who was standing in the middle of the hallway with a hand outstretched.

“I hate my fucking life.” Semi slapped a palm to his forehead. He had something to do first before he addressed you. He slammed the door behind him quickly, so neither volleyball players could throw questions at him.

“What was that?” The blonde girl asked, still standing and silently waiting for Semi. He had called her here a few minutes ago, saying that they needed to talk.

“We can’t go to the formal together.” Semi stated. “I’m really sorry if I’ve led you on.”

“Is it because of (L/N)-san?” She asked, smile still evident on her face. He nodded lightly. “You two honestly suit each other. Even I was surprised when you said yes to me.” She moved to the floor to grab her bag and leave, “May I ask, why did you agree to go with me?”

“I don’t know.” He sat on his bed and wanted to scream, it was rare for him to be so confused.

“You better get your shit together, Eita-kun.” She gave a small laugh and then exited the dorm.

There was no way that you were returning back to your dorm. You knew that your roommate and Reon would still be there and expecting details. You should have known! If you kept distancing yourself from Semi, it was only a matter of time that he found comfort in another person’s arms. You deserved this, really. You had been so petty and jealous without actually affirming your feelings to him.

Text Messages:

17:32 From: the most tender Salami What was THAT?!

17:29 From: Ushiwaka-sama! Where are you???

The only place that you knew would be free of any volleyball idiots would be the on-campus café outside of the nursing building. It only accepted money and not swipes from the meal-plan, which in itself was a turn-off from most of the volleyball teams. It was on the complete opposite side of campus from the gyms and you were sure that none of the people you knew were enrolled in medical-specific programs. Of course, everyone except from her.

It had been a full hour of dodged texts and missed calls when she neared your table. “Hi. You probably don’t want to talk to me of all people.” The blonde started, but still made a motion as if asking if she could take the empty seat across from you.

“You can have the seat. I was on my way out.” You grabbed your various things from the table, readying to leave.

“Wait, please just listen.” You paused in your movements and nodded, “Semi called me to his room to call off our date for the formal. He never meant to upset you and I’m sure he’s looking for you as we speak. Please give him a chance.”

“You don’t have to do this.” You interjected, ��He said yes to you and I don’t want to take him away from you just because I am the one who is upset. You asked and he accepted your affection, something we never did. We’ve only ever been friends. With Semi, all I want for him is to be happy. He deserves all the happiness in the world, even if it’s not with me.”

Your eyes were wandering around during your speech, jumping from behind the blonde and your surroundings but never focusing on her. When you gazed back at her, she was holding a hand to her nose and lightly sniffling.

“You two deserve to be together!” She shouted, “Oh god I am so sorry for getting between you guys.”

Behind you, Semi was scouring the café in an attempt to find you. He spent too damn long thinking and not acting, it was finally time that he made his feelings known. Grabbing his phone on the way out, he called Tendou and Waka and neither boys knew where you were. A quick text to Reon and your roommate and they both asked why you were not with him. Semi sighed and continued in his search. Finally, he received a text from the blonde that she found you moping around here.

Semi could spot you in a crowd of rowdy volleyball players within seconds. He found your luscious locks of hair across the very person he left. Damn, he really owed that girl. She took rejection like pro and even took it a step further to keep you here until he arrived.

“Please, you have nothing to be sorry about.” You responded.

A pair of large hands slid to lightly weigh on your shoulders, “Can I interrupt?”

“Please do.” The blonde replied and quickly gathered her belongings. “I wish you two the best.”

Semi quickly took her seat and reached across the table to hold your hands in his. “You said you wanted to clear misunderstandings before you ran off. I need to do the same.”

His grip tightened and you squeezed back. “Let me start, since I owe you an explanation.” He nodded. “Eita-kun, you’re the only man I’ve ever had eyes for. Even if I spend time with Waka-kun or Salami, they’ve never meant more to me than just friends. You’ve always held the most special and largest piece of my heart.”

Semi smiled and moved his chair closer to yours. “I want you to know that I feel the same way. It’s rather small of me, but after you spent so much time with Wakatoshi… I wanted to test if you felt the same heartbreak I felt when I saw the two of you together. I realize now how spiteful that was of me, to the very girl I had feelings for.”

You placed a gentle hand on the side of his face, rubbing rather affectionately and he seemed to lean into it. “Looks like we’re a pair of idiots.”

“But now you’re my exclusive idiot.” He staked his claim and you wondered how his seat suddenly was right next to yours!

Semi nuzzled your nose with his own, smile enrapturing you for the oomph time. You closed your eyes and leaned forward, bumping noses until you felt the gentle touch of his lips against yours. You were entirely receptive, even moving further into his body to get the full scape of his silky lips. The tips of his hair were tickling the sides of your face. And you would kill to feel this sensation for the rest of your life.

His hands lost themselves in your hair, preoccupied with keeping a steady hold on the back of your head. You returned the embrace and he took that as an invitation to glide his lips against yours, silently asking for entrance. You moaned in answer and opened up slowly, but he took it entirely in stride – not skipping a beat.

It was only when a flash went off that the two of you broke apart, gasping for air.

“Holy shit!” Tendou yelled, Wakatoshi clapping not too far behind him. You flushed with embarrassment. God you moaned in public! “This one is for the page.”

You were about to interject when Semi stated, “Finally. Maybe now you bastards will get the message.”

New notification:

[Instabook] Slide to unlock and see new tagged post

Hot momma! Finally, it seems as though the couple everyone shipped together are finally official~ Hopefully we don’t have to mark this page as 18+ Tagged: Eita Semi and (F/N)(L/N) Attached: 1.jpg, 2.jpg / 3.gif

Semi led you back to his empty dorm, your roommate and Reon were bro’s and willingly offered to have a sleepover to give you two alone time. You were currently encased between his arms, legs tangled and speaking in low voices. He had you nestled beneath his chin, but most of your weight laid across his chest. Semi did not want this moment to end. He waited three years for this, it was a moment of love in the making. You laughed lightly in his arms, not a care in the world keeping you from him. You were both on cloud nine, basking in each other's presence. You never took Semi as a closet cuddle-whore, but you were not complaining. His arms encased you perfectly and you could not hold back from placing butterfly kisses across his chest. You loved him, it was only a matter of time that you found out.

—xXxXxXxXxXx—

➳ A/N: This fic may seem familiar because it’s being brought up over from our earlier Deviantart account! <3

569 notes · View notes

gotham-ruaidh · 3 years

Text

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

This story takes place during the summer of 1987. It’s the time of the Cold War, and heavy metal, and Just Say No.

Ten chapters, each with a specific song as its soundtrack.

I’m so excited to finally share it with you.

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Also posted at AO3

—-

Chapter 3: Dancing On Glass

I've been through hell // And I'm never goin' back // To dancing on glass // Going way too fast...

Need one more rush // Then I know, I know I'll stop // One extra push // Last trip to the top...

Soundtrack: “Dancing On Glass,” Mötley Crüe, 1987 [click here to listen]

Three P.M.

Group.

Claire’s hands wrapped around the hard sides of the plastic chair, holding herself upright, watching about two dozen fellow patients? inmates? addicts? shuffle into the room.

Two people stood at the door – greeting others as they entered, handing out small packets of tissues and bottles of Coke.

Today’s facilitator – a middle-aged, bearded man – stood to one side, chatting with a few people.

“Hey!”

Claire startled – and turned to her right to see Jamie slide into the chair beside her.

“How’s it going today? Day two, right?”

She nodded. “Met with my therapist this morning.”

“That’s great! Who’ve you got?”

“Gillian.”

Jamie cracked open a bottle. “Oh, she’s great. Been here a long time. She’s married to the director – did you know that?”

Claire’s eyebrows raised. “No, but that’s really interesting.”

Jamie gulped about half the bottle in one shot. “Yeah. We owe everything to them.”

“Yeah, well. I got assigned to dinner set-up duty.”

He beamed. “Great! I’ve been on that rotation for the last few weeks. I’ll show you all the ropes.”

“Few weeks? How long have you been here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He set down his Coke. “I don’t. And I’ve been here eight weeks. The best eight weeks of my fucked-up life.”

“Don’t say that,” she chided. “Surely everything can’t be so terrible.”

He stared at her for a long moment.

“It can be, if you were the reason why a sold-out European tour couldn’t happen, and it cost your backers and buddies tens of millions of dollars, and it pissed off countless thousands of fans.”

Now the greeters took their seats within the circle.

“Couldn’t, or didn’t?” Claire hoped her words were gentle, but when her head split with pain like this she could never tell. “And what do you mean by ‘tour’?”

His eyes narrowed. “Couldn’t. My manager said I’d come back from Europe in a body bag. He’s a bloodsucker but he had enough sense to not kill the golden goose.” He finished his Coke in one long gulp – flexing the tattoos swirling on his forearm and elbow. “And I’m a professional musician – in case you couldn’t guess from the way I look.”

“I see.”

He grinned. “How about that – someone who doesn’t recognize me.”

She folded her hands in her lap, closing her eyes against the pain, so desperately wanting to disappear. “I guess between medical school, and being a surgeon, and my ex-husband…and the pills…there are a lot of things I haven’t paid attention to.”

“Hey.” Softly he reached out to touch her knee – and she looked up at him.

“I’m not making fun of you, Claire. It’s just…I don’t know. Refreshing.”

She smiled tightly.

The facilitator clapped his hands. “Everyone – are we ready?”

People around the circle nodded, and the man sat down in the last empty chair.

“Great. Well, hi everyone. For those of you who don’t know me – I’m Murtagh. Been clean for just about eleven years now. Before that I spent a small fortune that I didn’t have – ”

“ – on enough blow to kill an elephant,” Jamie and several others chorused.

Murtagh smiled. “Wiseasses. Now – today’s topic is: clarity.”

“Can you be more specific?” A heavyset, bearded man across the circle piped up.

“You mean – provide more clarity?” Geneva snickered from somewhere near Jamie.

“Easy,” Murtagh interjected. “And yes, Rupert, of course. What I mean is: something I hear a lot from people here is that being away from substances gives them clarity for the first time in years. Clarity of thoughts – meaning, you’re logical and rational. Clarity of judgment – meaning, you feel like you are empowered to make good decisions. And overall, clarity to step away from all the bullshit that the substances made you do, or made it easier for you to do, and say – damn, what the hell was I doing?”

Across the circle, Rupert nodded. “OK. Oh – hi everyone, I’m Rupert, and I’m an alcoholic. Yeah – I can definitely relate. I wanted to not have clarity, so that I didn’t have to think about how much I was screwing up my job, and my marriage.”

“Good,” Murtagh praised. “And now that you can’t avoid it – how do you feel?”

Rupert stroked his thick beard. “Like shit. I love Scarlet so much, and I fucked it all up. I understand that now.”

“I feel the same way,” Jamie added. “Hi, I'm Jamie, and I'm an alcoholic, too. I drank because I’ve always felt so responsible for everything going on in my band – because I’m the guy that brought us together, and I’m the guy who writes the songs, and I’m the guy who’s across the table from the record company executives, advocating on our behalf.” He bounced a long, thin, jean-clad leg rapidly up and down. “I felt like I was being used, and that I was the only one who cared. I felt that really clearly. So I drank to…to avoid that clarity.”

Claire carefully watched the others around the circle. What Jamie was sharing could make any one of them a quick buck – all it would take was one phone call to a tabloid. But everyone was listening raptly – clearly thinking about parallels in their own lives – and it began to dawn on her that Jamie had one thing she didn’t have much of for herself: respect.

“And then when I drank, I’d just get really mean,” he continued. “I’d say things to rile up my drummer. I had a fling with my manager’s girlfriend, just to fuck with him. And yeah, I’d destroy hotel rooms.”

“Your reaction was to want to hurt people,” Murtagh said gently. “You had had clarity – clarity that you were shouldering too much, for too many people – and you reacted by wanting to push them away.”

“Yeah.” Claire spoke without thinking. “Um – hi everyone, I’m Claire, and I’m addicted to pills. Halcions, mostly.”

“Oh, those are the best,” a woman to Claire’s left remarked.

“Hey – no positive talk,” Murtagh interjected. “You know better than that, Letitia.”

Letitia huffed.

Murtagh turned back to face Claire. “Tell us more, Claire, if you’re comfortable?”

Now that she’d started, she couldn’t stop. “I was – am – a trauma surgeon for an emergency room. I love it – I love the adrenaline of it, and of course being able to help people on the worst day of their lives. I love being able to heal people. But…but it’s pretty heavy stuff. People die, no matter how hard you try to save them. People wake up and they’re not happy that they don’t have a leg anymore – and I say, would you rather be dead?”

“And you wanted to get away from that?” Jamie asked gently.

She closed her eyes. “I had to have clarity to do my job properly – it’s hard to describe, but it’s like having a laser focus on what’s in front of you. Getting in the zone. Shutting out everything else. And then when it’s all done – I would crash. The whole world would come rushing back, and I’d be covered in someone else’s blood and barely able to sit down before I had to work on the next person. That was so, so hard to deal with.”

“I understand.” Claire opened her eyes – it was an older man speaking right next to Jamie. “Hi everyone – I’m Ned, I’m a lawyer and crack addict, and there are a lot of jokes I’m sure you could make based on that.”

Claire managed a small smile.

“I’m a defense attorney – I’m that guy you see on TV arguing in a courtroom and presenting to a jury. I totally get what Claire said, because I needed to have that kind of really focused clarity, too. It was kind of like acting – I had to remember my argument, and I had to present it to the jury, and I had to pick up on cues from them to see how well I was doing. And then afterward I’d just crash. But I still had to have energy to prep for the next day, and that’s where Miss Crack came in.”

“So what I’m hearing is that clarity is something you already had – and then you turn to substances to get away from it.” Murtagh folded his arms. “Because it’s hard to flip that ‘off’ switch. And then eventually, the substances change from being something to take a vacation from that clarity, to completely blocking out that clarity altogether.”

“Exactly.” It was easier for Claire to focus on Murtagh than the sea of faces surrounding her. “And it’s a deliberate choice. I’m sure, Ned and Rupert and Jamie, that you deliberately sought out something to prevent that clarity. I know I did – I wrote the prescriptions for the pills that I consumed.”

Rupert nodded. “The bottle didn’t pick itself up and pour the liquor down my throat. And you’re right, Claire – at first, at least, it was a conscious decision. Until it became something I had to depend on.”

“I think that there are ways for this to happen more positively.” A woman seated beside Rupert quietly spoke. “Oh – hi, everyone, I’m Marsali, and I’m an alcoholic. What I mean is, there are ways to flip that ‘off’ switch that aren’t so…destructive. You can go for a run. Listen to music. Cook a meal. Watch a movie. Make love to your significant other.”

Murtagh nodded. “Marsali brings up a good point here. I’ll repeat something that I’ve already told many of you before, because it bears repeating. Substance addiction is addiction, first and foremost. All of us are here because our brains are hard-wired for addiction. We can’t change that. But we can change what it is that we’re addicted to.”

“Like what?” Letitia had calmed down a bit, but clearly she was skeptical.

“Whatever works for you,” Murtagh shrugged. “Jiu Jitsu. Flower Arranging. Reading. Playing the drums. Writing. Riding motorcycles. Not all addictions are bad – we just need to find the addictions that help us, and don’t hurt us or the people around us.”

Everyone’s heads nodded in agreement, quietly reflecting.

“So – that’s my homework assignment for all of you.” Murtagh pulled a small spiral notebook from his pocket, flipped to a fresh page, and began scribbling in it. “To think about the thing that you can become positively addicted to. Something you already enjoy, or something you’ve never done before. But I hope that even just thinking about it will give you focus. Improve your clarity.”

“Got it,” Ned said quietly.

Murtagh flipped back to an earlier page in his notebook. “Now – I have here my notes from the last time I facilitated Group. OK if I start going around and asking people for follow-up thoughts to those? Rupert?”

Rupert nodded, and began to speak.

“Facilitators take turns hosting Group every fourth day.” Claire started a bit, but held steady as Jamie leaned in close, spoke quietly into her ear. “We talk about things, and we’re assigned homework, and then the next time the facilitator is back we talk about it.”

“Thanks,” Claire murmured.

Jamie didn’t pull away. “If you ever just want to talk…”

She swallowed. “Thanks. I do. I just – it’s a lot to process.”

“It is. But you’ll get there. Talk more at our dinner prep.”

With that he pulled back, and a low buzz settled somewhere between Claire’s ears as the people around her chimed in to the conversation.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #little bit better than i used to be

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marjansmarwani · 3 years

Text

that’s alright, my heart is okay

2.8k || ao3

The Reyes come to dinner, Owen shows up late (with the limes), and TK has some words with his father. But most of all: Carlos has a victory, and TK and Carlos share some moments. -------- A 2x11 coda

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

Yes this coda took me forever to write, but here it is: the dinner scene I wish we had gotten to see.

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

It was the third muttered curse that brought TK into the kitchen. The first two had caused him to look up from where he was setting the table, but the third slightly louder and forceful “fuck” from his usually even-tempered boyfriend grabbed his notice.

“Anything I can help with?” he asked as he stepped into the kitchen area, surveying the scene to locate the subject of Carlos’s ire.

“No,” Carlos responded, voice weary and full of frustration. “I just can’t get this damn sauce to thicken.”

“Maybe add more cornstarch?” TK suggested. “What?” he said defensively when his boyfriend tossed him a surprised look, “I pay attention! How could I not,” he added, stepping closer and placing his hands lightly on Carlos’s hips as he closed the distance, pressing himself against the other mans’ back, “watching you in the kitchen might just be one of my favorite pastimes. It’s really something to behold.”

He was rewarded by the sensation of Carlos’s body shedding some of its tension at his touch and a slight shiver as TK’s words brushed across the exposed skin of his neck. He pressed a light kiss on the side of his neck and watched as he took a deep breath.

“You’re right, that should help. Could you grab it for me?”

TK pulled himself away from Carlos to cross to the cupboard with the backing ingredients. He grabbed the box of cornstarch and headed back to Carlos, stopping short and holding the box just out of his reach. “Only if you relax,” he said and Carlos raised an eyebrow.

“Is this a negotiation?”

“Yes,” TK confirmed. “I hate seeing you so tense. They’re your parents, Carlos. They love you and that’s not going to change, no matter how runny the sauce is.”

“I know that,” he admitted, looking back down at the pan simmering on the stove. “I just want everything to be perfect. It’s their first time officially meeting you, and I want them to love you as much as I do.”

“I hope not,” TK quipped, “that could get awkward.” When Carlos didn’t return his grin, he sobered. “I get why you’re nervous,” he admitted, “I’m nervous too. But stressing over the food or swearing at your stove isn’t going to change that. All we can do is relax and be ourselves because that’s who we want them to see. Us, just like we always are. We make a pretty good team, remember?”

Carlos turned down the burner and stepped closer, wrapping a hand around the arm holding the cornstarch and pulling it down so he could step closer to TK, “We do,” he asked with a soft smile, “don’t we?”

“Always have and always will,” TK confirmed. “Besides, if we can handle my parents, we can handle anything.”

Carlos chuckled and leaned forward, stealing a kiss before he stepped away again, holding the cornstarch. “There is that,” he agreed.

---------

Carlos is surprised by how normal it all is.

From the moment his parents arrive, they fall into a rhythm. His mother apologizes for messing up TK’s name that one time, his dad gives him shit about it. TK jumps in, tossing him a teasing smile and then they’re all smiling. There is the brief crisis of the limes but TK swoops in, saving him from his own anxiety as he so often does. From there though, things go smoothly. He watches, a fond smile on his lips as TK patiently answers all his mother’s questions about growing up in NYC only to turn the tables and get her going about stories of his own childhood. He fakes a scowl when his boyfriend grins at him after a particularly embarrassing story, but he knows it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s pretty sure it’s impossible to feel anything but complete bliss at this moment: watching his parents banter and laugh with the man he loves in the home that they share. It felt so surreal, but also so right.

After a few more stories though, he felt the need to stand up for himself: “Mami,” he protested in a tone just short of a whine as his mother finished telling TK of the time he had run through the family bbq naked at the ripe age of 2. “Really?”

“It’s cute!” she defended, and he shot a look at TK when he snickered.

“Oh c’mon Carlos,” he retorted, grinning at him, “it’s not like you haven’t heard all the embarrassing stories from both my parents already. It’s only fair that I get some from your childhood as well.”

Carlos rolled his eyes, but he had to concede the point. Both Owen and Gwyn had been more than willing to share stories from TK’s youth during their time spent at the Strand house - there had even been pictures involved. But the mention of TK’s parents brought something else to mind.

“Did your dad say where he was on his way from?” he asked lightly, not wanting to cause any undue worry, “it’s been a while.”

Too long for the two mile distance between the two homes, he added to himself.

Though he didn’t verbalize his concern he could see TK coming to the same conclusion as he frowned and glanced at the clock on his phone. He bit at his lip before he rose from the table, phone in hand. “I’m going to call him real quick,” he said, “excuse me.”

He stepped away and Carlos tracked him with his eyes, well aware of the panic TK was trying to hide. TK placed the call and Carlos pulled his eyes back to his parents who were both watching him.

“¿Todo bien, mijo?” his mother asked softly.

“Sí,” he responded quickly but when his dad raised a skeptical eyebrow he sighed, “Owen had surgery a few days ago, and TK’s worried. He’s not exactly known for taking it easy and TK is concerned he’s going to push himself too hard.”

“What kind of surgery?” his father asked.

“To remove the last of a tumor from his lung,” Carlos responded absently, his gaze turning back to TK who was lowering the phone from his ear with an anxious look. He got up from the table, crossing over to where TK stood in the living room.

“Hey,” he asked gently, “what’s going on?”

“He didn’t answer,” TK told him, looking at him with fearful eyes. “Carlos, what if…”

“No,” Carlos said firmly, “don’t go there, Ty.”

“I can’t help it. What if he tried to do too much and put too much strain on his lungs? What if…”

“Try calling him again,” Carlos urged, “maybe he just didn’t hear his phone the first time. If he doesn’t pick up, we’ll figure something out.”

TK took a deep breath and nodded, tapping at his phone again and lifting it back up to his ear. Carlos watched anxiously as it rang, heart sinking when the voicemail picked up again. TK met his eyes and Carlos hated that they were so full of fear.

“Okay,” he said evenly, “we can go over there, just to make sure everything’s okay.”

“But your parents…”

“Will understand,” Carlos said firmly. “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure everything’s fine. It’s probably just a simple mix up.”

Before TK could respond the phone in his hand began to vibrate. He barely gave the screen a glance before he answered it, speaking quickly into the phone, “Dad? Are you okay?”

“Of course I am, sorry I missed your calls. I just got tied up while running errands, I’m on my way now. I’ll see you all in a few minutes.”

TK hung up the phone and looked at Carlos, who gave him a smile, “See,” he tried, “he’s fine.”

“Is he though?”

“What,” Carlos asked, “you think he’s lying?”

“You don’t?”

Carlo had to concede that it all did sound fairly suspicious, but there was no point in dwelling on it now. “He’s on his way here and we can figure it out then,” he said instead. “It’s going to be fine.”

TK took another deep breath, chasing away the last remnants of panic before he nodded, squeezing Carlos’s hand.

“You’re right,” he agreed, “and we should really get back to your parents, we’re being rude.”

Before Carlos could so much as protest, TK was crossing the room and sliding back into his seat at the table, a wide and bright grin plastered on his face; masking the anxiety Carlos knew was still roiling through him. He followed suit and the easy conversation flowed between them - TK as it’s eager facilitator - until there was a knock on their front door a few minutes later, as promised.

Carlos watched as TK crossed to the front door, opening it to reveal his father, holding a bag of limes triumphantly.

“I hope this means Margaritas,” he said jovially, his bravado never wavering under TK’s analytical gaze. He offered no explanation for his prolonged absence and after a moment, TK seemed to accept the inevitable as he stepped aside to let his dad in.

He gave no indication that he was anything less than perfectly content as he facilitated the introductions, but when Carlos caught his eyes out of the gaze of the others he shook his head and Carlos understood: he wasn’t letting it go, but he would wait. He was almost certain his boyfriend had zero intention on letting his father leave their home tonight without answers.

So he followed suit, squeezing TK’s arm in silent support as they passed in the kitchen; following along as he made conversation. Despite the tension it was still an enjoyable night and Carlos was still marveling at how easy this all felt. It felt as if it should have always been. This was further reinforced as his mother insisted on joining him in the kitchen to put the final touches on dinner.

As they stood side by side, transferring the food from the pans to platters she leaned into his space, placing a hand on his wrist and squeezing it gently. “I like him Carlitos,” she whispered, eyes on the group at the table, TK laughing at something Gabriel had said. Carlos followed her gaze and could help but smile wider when TK met his eyes.

“I like him too, Mami,” he agreed, “an awful lot.”

She smiled at him, eyes moist as he patted his wrist again, “I’m so happy for you, mijo. All I’ve ever wanted for you was to find someone to love you as much as you love them.”

Carlos turned to his mom, meeting her eyes for a moment and seeing the moisture in them. He gave her a smile and set down the dish he was holding, placing a hand on top of the one resting on his wrist.

“Me too,” he agreed, “and I did.”

---------

Eventually, they parted ways for the evening.

The Reyes left first: Andrea with a kiss for both the boys and Gabriel with a hug for his son and a handshake for TK. Carlos saw them to a door and with a wave in Owen’s direction, they were gone.

Carlos shut the door behind them and silence fell over the living area as TK looked to his father. He tried for a smile, but TK didn’t return it.

“Are you going to tell me what you were really doing? What actually happened?” he asked instead, and Owen froze. TK could feel Carlos coming up behind him, silently offering support but he didn’t pull his gaze from his Dad’s face. The silence stretched on and eventually, TK shook his head.

“Thanks for bringing the limes, I guess,” he muttered, turning away.

“TK…”

“What, Dad?” TK asked, his tone exhausted. “Are you finally going to tell me what’s going on? Are you finally going to listen? Because if not, I don’t think there is anything more to say.”

He turned and walked to the door, feeling both Carlos’s and his dad’s eyes on him the entire way. He opened it and turned back, eyes seeking his father once more.

“I think you should leave, dad.”

“Son,” Owen began again, walking towards him.

“You’ve made it painfully clear that what I think isn’t important. I just want you to be safe, to do what is best for you but it’s like talking to a brick wall!” he exclaimed, causing Owen to freeze and Carlos to step closer. He closed his eyes and took a breath - yelling wasn’t going to help anyone.

“I can’t help you if you don’t want to help yourself,” he said instead. “But I want to help you, dad. I just want you to be safe.”

“This is about something bigger than you or me, TK,” Owen said instead and TK had to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

“It always is, isn’t?”

He watched as his dad’s expression faltered. Then he shook his head and walked towards the door, pausing next to TK. He glanced at him and for a moment looked like he had something to say. TK waited but a moment later Owen shook his head and stepped out their front door into the night. He took one step down the path before pausing and turning back.

“I’ll call you tomorrow” he said, and TK wasn’t sure if it was more a promise or a question.

“I guess that depends on what you have to say.”

With that TK shut the door, pressing his forehead against it and closing his eyes. He stayed like that for several moments, until he felt the warm weight of hands on his shoulders, rubbing soothing patterns against his skin.

He opened his eyes and turned so he was facing Carlos, who was studying him with concern.

“I’m okay,” he told him softly. “He’s just…”

“Frustrating? Stubborn?” Carlos offered.

“Infuriating,” TK concluded with a groan and a shake of his head.

Carlos hummed sympathetically, “But he’s also your dad, and I know how much you love him and care about him.”

“I do,” TK agreed, “which makes this even more frustrating.”

They were quiet again as they each considered the implications of the last few minutes before TK flopped forward with a groan, burying his face in Carlos’s chest. “I’m sorry he ruined dinner with your parents,” he muttered into the material of his boyfriend’s sweater. “I know how important this was to you.”

Carlos laughed lightly and wrapped his arms around TK, “He didn’t ruin anything.”

TK pulled his face from Carlos’s chest to give him a dubious look and Carlos continued, “Yeah, maybe he could do with a second impression,” he conceded, “but he didn’t ruin anything. They came and we all had dinner together. My parents and the man I love all ate dinner together in our dining room, and it was fine. Better than fine actually: they really like you.”

“You think so?” TK asked, unable to keep the uncertainty from his voice.

“I know so,” Carlos confirmed. He grinned at TK for a moment before his expression shifted and he reached out a hand to caress TK’s face.

“I never thought I’d be able to have this,” he admitted. “For so long I figured it was either my family or whoever I decided to date, never both. But,” he added, a smile spreading across his face, “someone very smart told me that nothing ever stays the same. Turns out, they were right.”

“This person was very smart, you say?” TK asked, a grin breaking through the cloud of emotions.

“And handsome,” Carlos added. “and kind and a terrible cook, but I won’t hold that against him.”

“I think their cooking skills have likely improved,” TK quipped, playing along. “But you better be careful Reyes, they sound like they might just be a keeper.”

“They are,” Carlos agreed, “and I intend to, for as long as they want.”

“I can’t speak for this mystery man,” TK replied, “but I think the answer to that might be the same. I don’t think he has any desire to go anywhere else either. I think you might be stuck with him for a long time.”

“That’s good,” Carlos agreed, leaning forward to press a soft and gentle kiss to TK’s lips, “because my parents kind of like him; I think my mom would be upset with me if I let him slip away.”

“Well, we can’t have that.”

Carlos hummed, pulling back just enough to see TK’s face; to memorize this moment of all of his childhood fears being proven wrong. It had happened in small bits each, a little at a time, but this moment — a kiss shared in their living room after dinner with his parents — seemed to be the culmination. He never wanted to forget it. “No,” he agreed, a smile on his face as he ran a thumb over TK’s cheek, “we can’t.”

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #my writing #911ls #userkimmy #userjilly #userac #usermaximus #tuserjamie #tuserpaige #userbones #maizsnex #hierophvnts #buckybarnesalways #reyeslonestartag #immortalstrand #guaranteed I am forgetting people #but I'm tired so I'm sorry

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ptersparkers · 4 years

Text

party mishaps and helpful brothers

summary: when you’re unable to help yourself, your best friend’s brother’s the one to help.

warnings: mentions of alcohol, spiking a drink, illusions to assault (not graphic but it’s implied indirectly) and typos, probably.

notes: this probably isn’t in rafe’s character but it’s my world and for now, you’re all living in it. also im so bad at titles ahsjakskl.

add yourself to my taglist!

Rafe Cameron did not consider you a friend. You were just his younger sister’s best friend and a Pogue and as far as he was concerned, you were nothing but a side character in his one man show.

There was nothing special about you in his eyes. You hadn’t made an attempt to make yourself present in his life and he felt no reason to pay attention to you. You were the friend of his annoying little sister who happened to spend more time in his house than he would’ve liked. He could recount the times he could hear you and Sarah laugh a little too loudly in her room, when you would walk downstairs and eat “his” food, and when you’d let yourself out of his house early in the morning.

It’s not that you’d bother associating with the brunette who seemed to look for trouble when he was bored. He was undeniably attractive, there was no doubt about that, but you had barely uttered a sentence since you met him for the first time two summers ago.

It wasn’t like Rafe would willingly associate himself with you at public events either. You two had your separate worlds and preferred to stay in them. There lay no malice between the both of you, but you were his annoying little sister’s best friend and he was her arrogant brother. Rafe didn’t need an excuse to talk to you because he didn’t want one.

But that was before he witnessed someone spike your drink.

He wasn’t stupid; Rafe knew you didn’t drink a lot at these Kook events because you preferred to keep yourself in check around strangers and preferred not to drink in front of adults because you weren’t of legal age despite none of them caring. You opted for virgin versions of popular alcoholic drinks, water, or juice.

You were sitting at the bar when Sarah abruptly stood up after looking at her phone, apologizing profusely. JJ had texted her and reported John B. had passed out due to heat exhaustion. It was no big deal. You’d been to these parties plenty of times before.

The Cameron residence only a block away and you debated on staying for a little while longer and asking Rafe if he wouldn’t mind walking you home or risk the dark journey to the house. You quickly shook the first idea out of your head. There was no way Rafe would pause his fun for you, so you grabbed your cup and drank the last of the virgin strawberry daiquiri.

Rafe was talking to Topper, Kelce, and a few other boys who always accompanied the group to these parties. He wasn’t nearly as drunk as he had hoped, but the bar was crowded and he didn’t have much energy to fight his way to the front of the bar nor cared enough to get drunk that night. Topper finished telling a funny story that had all the boys throwing their heads back in laughter when Rafe was able to catch you from the corner of his eye.

The scene that had unfolded in front of him made him do a double take and sober up quickly. Someone he recognized from his high school days had dropped something into your drink as he watched Sarah leave and witnessed you turn around to down the drink. You tried to stand up, but your balance failed you just in time for this person to catch you in his arms.

“Hold this,” Rafe said to Kelce without looking at him. He gave the confused boy his glass and walked away without another word. Topper and Kelce, who hadn’t engaged in the next conversation with the other boys, opted to follow their friend instead.

“Hey!” Rafe called out as the stranger had hoisted you up. The boy, who he recognized as Steven, looked up and gave Rafe a big smile.

“Rafe! Haven’t seen you in a bit. How you been, man?” he said.

“What are you doing?” he asked, looking between your barely conscious state and him.

“We were just going home,” Steve replied. “Isn’t that right?” He looked at you and you were just sober enough to flutter your eyes.

“I don’t think so, man,” Rafe said, stepping forward. “I saw you spike her drink and that’s not cool.”

“C’mon,” Steven reasoned. Topper and Kelce had walked over and stood behind Rafe, curiously eyeing you and Steven. “Who cares about a stupid fucking Pogue?”

“Steven,” Rafe said assertively, “leave this party and leave Y/N alone.” Steven’s grip on you became tighter and you tried to pry your body away from his.

“Man,” Kelce muttered, putting down his drink to grab Steven by his arm. Topper followed suit and it wasn’t hard for them to pry him off of you. Rafe was quick to let you use his body as a crutch and he watched as Topper and Kelce forcefully walked him out of the event space.

“Jeez,” he mumbled to himself, looking down at you. You were conscious, but barely so. He had watched Sarah leave the party and opted to walk you out, hoping he could take you back to his place and come back to the party quickly.

But his heart tugged at the sight of your red eyes, your red nose, and the sheer notion that your body was laying nearly limp against his. Your dress was hiked up at an inappropriate level and he fixed your outfit before anyone had time to notice something was wrong.

“Let’s get you home,” he said when he facilitated you outside of the large wooden gate. You were able to walk and he figured the effect of whatever drug Steven used hadn’t taken affect yet, but you were soon tripping over yourself on the cobblestone on the outskirt of the house. Your arms were dangling by your side and he tried to assist you walking, but upon realizing you were barely sober enough to get yourself out of the party, he gritted his teeth and carried you in his arms, bridal style.

“Sarah, you owe me,” he muttered to himself despite knowing this wasn’t your fault. You raised your head to see the boy’s eyes looking straight ahead of him and let out a chuckle. Rafe was taken back by your sudden noise but was happy to know you were still breathing.

As he approached his house, he struggled to open the door. He was successful and turned all of the lights on before opening the door to a spare bedroom and gently set you on the cream comforter. Rafe looked at you and nodded, walking out the door.

But halfway down the stairs, he stopped. There was no way he could leave you alone after what he saw, much less leave you there alone and have to explain to Sarah was happened. He walked downstairs and grabbed two glasses of water — one for you and one for himself — before walking back upstairs.

“Up,” he said, more to himself than you. Somehow, he was able to get you to drink the water and it seemed to help sober you up, but you had spilled a significant amount of water on the dress you were wearing.

“I can’t feel my arms,” you said with a groan.

“Here, ah,” Rafe said, putting the water down. He left the room for a moment to grab a shirt from his room and put it on the edge of the bed. Upon realizing you weren’t going to change, he timidly approached you. “Y/N, I’m going to take your dress off and put this shirt on, okay? That’s all I’m going to do.”

Rafe didn’t move until he saw you move your head. With a large breath, he unzipped the back of your silk slip dress and tried to avert his gaze to anywhere but your bare chest and slipped the large shirt over your body, pulling your hair out from underneath and tucking you in carefully.

Now that you were somewhat peacefully laying there, Rafe debated on going back to the party. You were safe and in his house and he knew you’d wake up in a familiar space instead of in a stranger’s bed. But the thought of leaving you alone didn’t sit well with him. He knew you weren’t adventurous when it came to drugs and alcohol, and seeing someone take away your choice to try it at your own risk covered his body in chills.

Rafe was careful to lay on the bed gently, putting himself as far away from you as possible. He stayed above the sheets and tried to calm his breathing down, looking at the ceiling that was illuminated by the moon from the window.

He turned his head to look at you. There was no denying how pretty you were and even he had to admit that. You looked so peaceful while sleeping — almost like you were dreaming instead of being forced to be unconscious.

He just hoped you didn’t freak out when you woke up.

***

When the moon was replaced by the sun, your eyes fluttered open and the first thing you saw was your dress hanging in the chair in front of the bed. You looked down and saw you were wearing a shirt you had seen Rafe wear so many times before scanning your surroundings.

Rafe woke up before you did and opted to let you sleep in. He was afraid of waking you up and wanted you to do it on your own accord, so he moved himself downstairs and made the both of you a little breakfast after a weird night.

Almost as if on cue, Rafe came back upstairs with orange juice and a bowl with a parfait.

“Good, you’re awake,” he said.

“Do I even want to know?” you asked as he placed the glass by the nightstand. You had never seen Rafe speechless but he was rocking in either side, avoiding your gaze.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” You paused.

“We didn’t—”

“No,” he interrupted.

“The that means....,” you trailed off. “Oh goodness.” You looked down at yourself. “And the shirt?”

“You spilled a lot of water on your dress,” he said. “I didn’t look, if that’s what you were wondering.” You nodded.

Just as you had never seen Rafe be so quiet, he could say the same for you. You were a loud honorary member of the Cameron family and he knew your footsteps all too well. He knew you were in his home by your melodious laugh. Seeing you in such a tranquil state last night had thrown him off because he has never seen you so peaceful, but also because he knew what would’ve happened if he hadn’t intervened.

“Are you okay?” Rafe asked after a period of silence. You swallowed.

“You never really think it would happen to you, you know? This is why I avoid drinking with people I don’t know, but I guess I couldn’t outrun it.” He watched as you drank the orange juice. “I-I mean, I don’t want to think what would happen if you hadn’t been there.”

Rafe was quiet again.

“I know I’m just your sister’s annoying friend but you did me a solid last night.”

You didn’t need to say it. He knew what would happen if he hadn’t been there and if you had gone home with Steven instead of him. Rafe didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about you being hurt by someone when you couldn’t fight back.

He wasn’t sure what prompted him to walk to your side of the bed and pull you into a hug, but he did it anyway. You were taken back by the unusually affectionate gesture but welcomed it nonetheless, letting your arms wrap around him as your head lay against his chest. You remained with many emotions as you let a few years slip past your eyes, not yet ready to confront what has happened last night. Rafe was the first to pull back and wiped the tears from your cheeks.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how angry I was last night,” he said, looking down at you. His hands had found his way to your jaw, cupping you as if you would break if he added any more pressure. “You couldn’t walk back to the house and your eyes were so red, Y/N, I thought that something serious had happened to you.” You smiled softly.

“I hate men,” you uttered. Rafe laughed, for once not feeling offended but shared the same feeling.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, taking a step back. “I’m gonna let you freshen up. There’s a towel in the bathroom and I think you know where everything is.” He looked at you once more before leaving the room.

There was no pride or a boost of ego of Rafe’s end, only a sense of protectiveness that had overcome his once animosity towards you. Annoyance was replaced with admiration and frustration was replaced with duty. Sarah hadn’t come home last night but he felt like even she would be happy with him.

Rafe wasn’t sure to make of you, the first Pogue he didn’t hate from the inside out. All he knew was you were no longer his annoying little sister’s best friend.

***

taglist:

@princessdolan @ashyramblings-ficrecs @fanficscuziranout @caswinchester2000 @jellyfishbeansontoast @simonsbluee @karleeluv @briannarto @pogue-h @hyluas @angelic-ashleyaileen @mfmaddyperez @sspidermanss @outerbankslove @bxbyyyjocelyn @jjsbxtch @rudethchalamet @srirachibi.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurbs #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagines #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey blurbs #obx imagines #obx x reader #obx #outer banks imagine #outer banks #outer banks x reader #my writing

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latteunwoo · 3 years

Text

friendly rivalry || j.ww + k.sy

↪ What happens when two best friends end up going after the same girl? Will one of them be able to win her heart? Will their friendship be in danger?

pairing: oc x wonwoo; oc x hoshi; oc x ??? (wink wonk you'll see at the end)

genre: fluff; humor

A/N: Request from @hazelbean13. Do note that most if not all of the content are not real/accurate because this is an AU (Alternate Universe).

seventeen m.list || main m.list

Out of everyone in their friend group, Hoshi and Wonwoo are truly the closest. In fact, some might say that they are exactly carbon copies of each other. They've always liked and done the same things.

For example, when they were little, when Hoshi got the new gaming console for this birthday, Wonwoo just had to get the same one for his birthday so they could play together.

Another example would be when they were in high school and joined both the soccer team as well as the gaming club because they didn't want to spend a second of their after school time without each other.

Of course there are some things one likes that the other dislikes and luckily because of that they've also never liked the same girl. That is until they met Hazel.

Hazel was about two years older than them. The first time they met her was during their college freshman orientation when she just so happened to be one of their facilitators. They didn't know what it was, but there for sure was something about her that caught their eyes.

At first they didn't know that they happened to be crushing on the same girl. However, once the both found out that they liked the same girl, Hoshi wouldn't let Wonwoo live after that.

"Did you talk to Hazel today?" Hoshi asked as he quickly sat down next to Wonwoo while some of the other students in the library quickly shushed him for talking too loud.

"Why are you asking me?" Wonwoo asked as Hoshi's smile grew wider.

"Because I talked to her today and she said that I was her favorite."

"Favorite what?"

"I'm actually not sure because she just said I was her favorite but I'm pretty sure that I'm her favorite freshman at least. Has she called your her favorite before?" Hoshi teased as Wonwoo just let out a small laugh.

"Yes, she has actually," he said as Hoshi gasped.

"No way! I don't believe you."

"Ask her yourself. But I'm pretty sure she's just nice to everyone."

"Are you saying she's lying then?"

"No, I'm saying that she probably tells that to everyone else because she doesn't want to upset them and also because she kinda has to be nice to all of us since she is an upperclassmen and they're supposed to set a good example for us."

"Valid. But I still think she actually did mean it when she said I was her favorite."

"How do you know that?"

"Well, I always talk to her and she always says that she thinks I'm funny-"

"Funny looking," Wonwoo said as Hoshi was about to snap back but was stopped by the sound of Hazel calling out to the both of them.

"Hey guys!"

"Hi Hazel!" The two said as they both turned to wave towards her as she walked towards them.

"Are you guys still helping out at the fair tomorrow?"

"Yeah, we'll be there!"

"Great, thanks! You're the best!" Hazel said as she reached up to pat both of them on the head before walking the other way, "I'll see you tomorrow then!"

"Did you hear that? She said I'm the best," Hoshi teased as Wonwoo just let out a scoff as he rolled his eyes at the older boy.

"Correction, she said that to the both of us so technically-"

"Yeah, whatever," Hoshi interrupted Wonwoo as he started walking away, "We'll see tomorrow who she thinks is better!"

"This isn't a competition though..." Wonwoo said to himself as he followed Hoshi to their next class.

Come the next day, Hoshi was more than ready to kill two birds with one stone by not only proving to Wonwoo that he is Hazel's favorite but also try to win her heart.

"Here are all of the decorations for our booth," Hoshi said as he set down the last two boxes and stood up proudly.

Hazel couldn't help but let out a small laugh at how cute he was, "Perfect, thanks Hoshi!"

"You're welcome," Hoshi said as his face started heating up. Although everyone calls him Hoshi, it just felt different when Hazel called him that.

A few moments later, Hoshi came back with Hazel's hydroflask filled with fresh cold water.

"Here, I refilled your hydroflask for you!" Hoshi announced as Hazel turned around to see him holding out her hydroflask.

"Oh, thank you," Hazel said as she took the hydroflask from Hoshi to take a sip of water, "You didn't have to, but thanks."

Hoshi smiled widely once again when she patted his head before walking away to help out some of the other students with organizing their booth.

Wonwoo let out a small laugh as he watched the interaction between Hazel and Hoshi, "He really is trying hard to get her attention."

Unlike Hoshi, Wonwoo wasn't very forward with trying to get Hazel's attention and luckily for him doing nothing worked just fine as she had praised him for doing a good job even though he didn't really say anything.

"Nice job, Wonwoo! I didn't know you could draw so well," Hazel praised as Wonwoo was currently painting some cats onto their booth.

"Oh, thank you," Wonwoo said as he turned around only to jump at how close Hazel was to him.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," Hazel apologized as she slightly moved back to give him a little space as Wonwoo felt his heart start beating a little too fast than he wanted, "I just saw how good of a job you were doing and wanted to watch!"

This went on for the rest of the day, Hoshi doing anything and everything to get Hazel's attention and Wonwoo doing the bare minimum but still somehow managing to get her attention.

"I think I'm winning," Hoshi announced proudly as Wonwoo just let out a small laugh.

"This isn't a competition, you know?"

"Everything is a competition to me."

"How do you even know if you're winning? Has she said anything to you?"

"Well, no-"

"Exactly. Also, stop being so forward, I'm pretty sure she's starting to feel uncomfortable with how forward you're being; I would."

"No she's not-"

"Why don't we just ask her who she likes better to get this over with?"

"That's actually not a bad idea, why didn't we think of that earlier?"

"Because you were too busy trying to get her attention every second."

"True," Hoshi said as he quickly looked around to see if Hazel was anywhere around. As soon as he spotted her, he quickly started waving at her to get her attention, "Hazel!"

"Oh, hey guys," Hazel said as she quickly walked towards them, "What's up? Is everything alright?"

"We have a question for you," Wonwoo said as he looked over at Hoshi to signal for him to ask it.

"Which one of us do you like better?" Hoshi quickly asked as both him and Wonwoo were eager to hear the answer.

"What do you mean? I like both of you!" Hazel said as she smiled and patted their heads.

"What we meant was, if you had to-"

Before Hoshi could finish his question, a very familiar figure started walking towards the three of them.

"Hey guys! Hey love," the man said as Hoshi and Wonwoo's expressions quickly fell when they saw the guy put his arm around Hazel's shoulder and place a kiss on the top of her head.

"Hyung," Hoshi and Wonwoo said as they looked at the older boy Seungcheol who happened to be the captain of the university's soccer team.

"Wait, you didn't finish your question, Hoshi," Hazel said as she looked back at him and Wonwoo.

"Oh, it's nothing! Nevermind. Forget I even said anything!" Hoshi quickly said as he grabbed Wonwoo and dragged him the opposite way.

"What was that?" Seungcheol asked as Hazel just shrugged her shoulder.

"I don't know. They're pretty weird, but cute."

"He's her boyfriend!" Hoshi yelled as him and Wonwoo were finally out of Hazel and Seungcheol's view.

"I told you it wasn't worth trying so hard," Wonwoo said as Hoshi just let out a small laugh.

"You act like you're not affected too."

"Touche, my friend."

"Well, at least that's settled. I'd rather lose the girl than lose my bestest friend in the world," Hoshi said as he tried to give Wonwoo a hug but Wonwoo quickly swerved his reach.

"You were literally ready to do anything and everything including risking our friendship over her," Wonwoo said as he started walking the other way and Hoshi started following him while apologizing.

The end.

#au for the bestie uwu #hoshi au #hoshi svt au #hoshi seventeen au #hoshi seventeen #hoshi svt #wonwoo #wonwoo au #svt wonwoo au #seventeen wonwoo au #seventeen wonwoo #svt wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo au #hoshi #kwon soonyoung #kwon soonyoung au #svt au #seventeen au

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brittledame · 4 years

Text

Pairing: Shirabu Kenjirou/Reader

Warnings: Explicit, A/B/O dynamics, rough sex, degradation, arguing, unprotected sex, knotting, biting, mention of blood, dirty talk, possessive undertones, slight humiliation, fem!masturbation, Alpha Shirabu, Omega Reader

Word Count: 5.0K

Summary: An argument that breaks out between you and Shirabu leads you to a surprising realisation as you get turned on by him insulting you. When Shirabu figures this out, he doesn’t hesitate to take advantage of it.

It wouldn’t be an average afternoon of practice at Shiratorizawa if at least one minor disagreement wasn’t made between teammates. While they were usually mild debates discussing the superior Ramune flavour or something else just as trivial, there were a few big ones that brought the elation of completing another successful training session to a standstill. More times often than not, those bigger arguments always involved Shirabu in some sense, whether as the facilitator or was the parties arguing.

This argument however had to be the biggest the boys had the horror to watch. Practice had started with the usual motions of stretching, starting practice on whatever coach Washijou assigned them to focus on, get yelled at by said coach, a short practice match and a wind down session. It was all perfectly fine, even if Shirabu was a bit more snappish towards Semi’s good-willed critiques and Tendou’s playful jibes.

That was all until you showed up after disappearing mid-practice with a large box. The boys rushed to finish their clean up chores, curious looks staved off by your stern demeanour. It was amusing to watch Yamagata push Tendou around, scolding him to hurry up so they could find out what was in the box. They acted like a bunch of kids on Christmas day at the mystery laying besides your feet.

As soon as the box was opened and the contents were handed out, Shirabu’s already bad mood plummeted straight to hell and you had the pleasure of baring the brunt of it.

“Are you so stupid to not even notice something like that when you picked it up?” Shirabu’s face is scrunched up in disdain and it only served to spur you on, frustrated at his accusations.

“It’s out of my hands! How was I supposed to know they’d mess up the order? We’ve never had an issue with them before.” You gestured towards the innocent box that served as the spark that lit Shirabu’s extraordinarily short fuse.

“The jerseys don’t fit.” He seethed and if looks could kill, you’d be a pile of dust on the shiny lacquered wood flooring of the gym. “Shiratorizawa is going to look like a joke at our next match.”

“It’s a practice match, it’s not that big of a deal to wear your practice gear.” You exasperatedly respond, pinching the bridge of your nose.

The stress of the approaching exams weren’t helping anyone at the moment, but you never would have guessed that Shirabu, the poster child of cool and collected, would be the first to snap.

“That doesn’t matter. It’s the principle of the matter. You should be competent enough as our manager to be able to stay organised and follow up on this kind of thing.” His voice was tight, trying to refrain from raising his voice. It didn’t matter, the sharp sting of his scent in the air and his scowling face was loud enough for you and everyone else to pick up that he was pissed.

Speaking of them, whoever stayed behind to receive their uniform is gathered around your standoff, watching the back and forth argument with the same intent of observing a fast-paced volleyball game where the next score would win the match. The white and purple child-sized jerseys hung limp in their grasps as they eye each other, wondering who had the guts to step in and diffuse the situation.

“For the last time. It’s. Not. My. Fault.” You raise your chin, not backing down. You weren’t going to be pushed around by him just because he was in a shitty mood. He’s going to realise that the jerseys coming in kid sizes and not adult sizing was a stroke of misfortune that can be swiftly fixed by the company that apologised profusely over the phone to you.

You’re going to make sure he feels ashamed about blowing up on you over something so trivial.

Shirabu goes scarily still, a blank mask slips into place. This was infinitely more worse than his anger. You stood there, frozen, as he crosses the meagre space between your bodies.

Leaning forward to get into your face, Shirabu forces you to devote your attention to no one else but him.

“Maybe you are just a vapid little omega who only joined the team to get alpha dick. That would at least explain your utter incompetency to do basic tasks.” He accuses, voice cold enough to freeze and yet it had the polar opposite effect on you.

A rush of heat that was most definitely not anger burns through your veins and settles in your abdomen. Heart rate picking up, you were utterly bewildered as to why you were reacting so viscerally to his insult.

You sharply inhale when it hits you not even a moment later, remembering other moments you’ve felt like this. Blood rushes to your cheeks, causing them stain red. Shirabu watches on as your eyes widen and you break eye contact to look off to the side.

Oh shit, you cover your open mouth with a shaky hand and let your hair shield your face as much as possible from Shirabu’s pointed stare. The realisation that you were turned on was not a pleasant one, shame battling with arousal in the pit of your stomach.

What kind of person even gets off on that? You, apparently.

Although, it didn’t make much sense that you’re a blushing mess now when you’ve never felt like this when coach Washijou, teachers or anyone else speaks down to you like that. Hell, it infuriates you to no end when others belittle you.

The only difference here was that it was Shirabu with his neat copper-toned blond hair and stupidly slanted fringe that made more sense on the cover of a vogue magazine instead of on a volleyball court. You refrain from cursing out loud as your seniors finally get involved.

Reon steps up to Shirabu with a reproachful expression. “Woah, okay now that was a bit far. Calm it, Shirabu.”

While you were having an existential crisis at the birth of a kink you never wanted to have, the team’s faces show concern at your odd behaviour. This is the first time they’ve seen you like this, and the newness of the situation has them feeling like they were standing on a bed of needles, one wrong move and they end up in a world of pain.

“Besides, she said that she had got in contact with them and that it’ll be sorted out by next week. No big deal.” Tendou adds, wrapping an arm around a glowering Shirabu’s shoulders, promptly walking him out of your vicinity. Shirabu huffed but says nothing as he tears his gaze away from your covered face.

Once he was a few paces away, you take in a deep breath to calm yourself. This turned out to possibly be the worst thing you could’ve done. The lingering bitter scent of Shirabu’s aggression filled your noise.

Battling the need to keen out loud, you’re appropriately distracted from your moment of weakness brought on by basal instincts as a large hand is placed comfortingly on your shoulder.

“Hey, are you alright?” Semi asked, face pinched in worry. “I promise that he’ll never speak to you like that again when I’m through him.” He finishes darkly.

You stifle a hysterical laugh and minutely nod your head with downcast eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be taking my leave now. Again, I’m sorry about the jerseys.”

“We said it was fine, don’t stress about it! We’re fine with playing in our training gear until they arrive.” Semi smiles widely and you felt ease flow through you.

You raise your head and give him a small smile. With that, you walk out of the gym with your entire body held stiffly, trying your hardest not to run but you got pretty damn close to it as you feel their eyes trace after your fleeing figure.

A beat of silence follows as they listen to your shuffling footsteps. It’s only when they can no longer hear them that Tendou releases Shirabu’s shoulder and the team confronts him.

“Shirabu, what in the absolute fuck. She did not deserve that.” Semi hisses, hands clenching in restrained rage that he wished to unleash upon the belligerent second year. “She even fucking apologised, but you had to keep pushing.”

Shirabu glanced over to Taichi, to gauge just how badly he’s fucked up. The ginger wears a small frown and that’s all Shirabu needed to know that he was six feet below without even releasing it.

“You’re really stinking up the place too,” Tendou changes the topic, moving the conversation along like a rapid instead of a river. Shirabu swung his head around to meet the red-head’s raised eyebrows, wondering what in the hell the sporadic third year meant by that. “Just because you’re struggling with exam hell week is soon doesn’t mean you can take all your frustrations out on poor ol’ manager-chan.”

Shirabu clenches his fist and wills away the red haze that clouded his mind the moment he held his supposed uniform for the year. He worked so damn hard for his place on the court with Semi nipping at his heels, and the jersey symbolised all that hard work. And his uniform was a dozen sizes too small, it was almost like a joke.

He didn’t know what came over him in that instant but god, the rush he felt was something else. And the way you had blushed before you shied away was just as heady as scoring a no-touch ace.

“Okay, I get it. I may have blown it just a bit out of proportion.” Yamagata and Semi snort at that and Shirabu shoots them a glare.

“You should go apologise to her after you’ve both cooled off.” Ushijima helpfully suggests. Shirabu feels slightly ashamed that Ushijima had to see him like that. The disapproving look on his captain’s normally stoic face hurt.

“Yeah, sure.” Shirabu mumbled, unable to meet Ushijima’s eyes.

“Good,” Ushijima grunted. Thinking Shirabu understands the depth of his actions, he turns to the rest and speaks again. “Lets finish cleaning up so we can have dinner.”

His words remind the players of their hunger. They walk away, pick up their forgotten cleaning tools and resumed whatever they had been doing before the fight broke out

“You’re lucky the coaches weren’t here, or your ass would be benched so fucking quickly your head would spin.” Semi says, before he goes back to mopping, not giving Shirabu a chance to reply.

The words hung heavy in the air and trailed after him as Shirabu moves away and finishes picking up stray balls from the botched serving attempts by the first year recruits. He allows his mind to wonder as boredom quickly set in. He knew that the coaches would have his ass on a platter if they heard him speak down to you at that – Hell, he’s surprised that no one was wringing his neck right now for that stunt with how protective of you the team is.

An image of your flushed cheeks and pink mouth dropping open flashes through his mind. The rubber ball in his hand groans under the force of his grip. Frowning, Shirabu tosses it into the basket and picks up the next one, more considerate of his strength.

The sight was new and definitely something he liked if the tell-tale rush of blood southwards was anything to go by. Shirabu finds himself thinking that he wants to see that face again and again until he’s sated.

You’ve never been more thankful for your roommate’s stupidly rich father and his tendency to whisk her away on spontaneous trips. She would have asked too many questions when you arrived to your room, looking all out of sorts. You didn’t even think about locking the door behind you, instead rushing to seek the comfort of your bed.

Not bothering to turn on the lights, the moonlight through the open window served as enough illumination for you to get to bed, which you promptly collapse face-first on.

“Fuck.” You groan loudly into the sheets.

You stay like that until you almost feel like yourself again and breathing starts to get hard.

Lifting up the sheets, you slot into a cocoon of comfort, not at all caring that you’re missing dinner tonight. There were study snacks hidden away in the depths of you desk drawers, so you weren’t too fussed.

Turns out laying there in the dark was counter-intuitive to trying to sort out the storm inside your head. Shirabu’s words replayed in your head like a broken cassette, not allowing you a moment of reprieve.

You end up kicking off the sheets in frustration, glaring up at the white ceiling like it was the one to personally offended you.

While you weren’t exactly freaking out over the unexpected revelation that Shirabu catalysed, you were far from calm. You could almost swear you could still smell him, but a quick check assures you that he hadn’t somehow snuck into your room, and you chalked it up to your horny mind trying to torture you.

The more you thought about the argument, the more worked up you got, and the more worked up you got, you could feel your core pulse dully around nothing.

Wrapping your blanket around your hands, you begged for the feeling away. It was bad enough that you got wet in the first place, you didn’t want to further hurt your pride by indulging the fucked up feeling. As the seconds stretched on and your core refused to be ignored, you surrender to the urge with a muttered ‘goddamn it’.

Wanting to get it over and done with as quickly and effectively as possible, you shucked of your shorts and keep your underwear around your ankles, knowing it was going to be done soon and you’d rather not look around in the dark for them.

You frown as you encounter wetness between your folds. Damn, you had honestly underestimated just how turned on you were from the setter’s barbs.

You shrug it off and set to work, pulling out all the tricks to finish quickly. However, it seemed nothing wanted to go your way tonight as your peak evaded you no matter what you did.

Suddenly, knocks at the door startle you out of your frustration. Panicked, you rip up your panties and conceal the noise you made at the feeling of wet cotton rubbing against your clit. You held still and hoped that whoever it was would assume that you’re either in the dinner hall or asleep.

A shit afternoon turned into an even shittier night as the door handle turns and the door creaks open. In a rush, you fling the sheets over your body and face the wall, feigning at being asleep. Hopefully, they’ll get the hint and leave you alone.

Hesitant footsteps trail into your room, the door clicking shut behind the intruder. You silently wished that it was one of your friends. An unhelpful voice in the back of your head tells you that they’d never enter without announcing themselves. You tell that voice to shut up.

The person comes to a stop besides your bed, silent. Trying your hardest to not shiver under their gaze, you do your best to emulate being peacefully asleep.

“You can stop pretending to be asleep now.” Shirabu’s voice rang out, irritated.

Heart doing a summersault in your chest, you curse whatever god was listening. Not wanting him to be in your space for any longer than necessary, you reply.

“Well I was before you came in,” You say spitefully, still not facing him. “You aren’t allowed in here. Whatever you came here for can wait until tomorrow.”

You could almost swear you could hear him rolling his eyes.

“Our seniors won’t get off of my ass until I apologise, and I’d rather get this over and done with sooner than later.” He grits out.

You hear shifting but you keep your eyes fastening on the small mark you left on the wall when you threw your phone onto the bed and it banged into the wall in your first year.

Shirabu snaps. “You could at least have the common decency to look at me while I apologise.”

Content with ignoring him, you bide your time. Surely after a few more minutes of this, he’ll either get fed up and leave or give his shitty apology and leave. In either case he leaves and you’ll be free to ruminate in your own shame at feeling excitement over his presence in your room.

Fed up with your petulant behaviour, Shirabu grasps the sheets concealing you from him and rips them off of your curled form.

“Hey!” You exclaim, shock colouring your words as you twist onto your back and gape up at him.

The reason for your wilful ignorance of his presence comes in the form of a wall of pheromones hitting Shirabu paired with your barely dressed form. He blinks down at you, nostrils flaring as he picks up the sweet smell of your arousal.

His neutral expression is quickly replaced with a darker one as he draws nearer. Getting the gist of what was going on, you watch with bated breath as he climbs onto your bed. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what you were getting up to before he rocked up and Shirabu couldn’t pass up the delicious look of embarrassment on your cute face.

What exactly brought this on, however, he’s not completely sure of. He has an inkling what turned you on, with your odd exit earlier on, and he wants to test his theory out.

The bed dips where his knee meets it. Placing his hands besides your shoulders, leaning over you way too close for comfort, Shirabu smirks down at you.

“You’re fucking filthy.”

Your breath catches. Shirabu’s smirk widens. I got you now.

“Such a horny omega.” He tuts, leaning down more, now close enough that you could see flecks of gold in his honeyed irises. “The team thinks that you’re up here crying and instead I find you getting off.”

“No, I wasn’t.” You say hurriedly but at Shirabu’s ‘really’ look you frown and look over his shoulder, not brave enough to meet his eyes.

Shirabu catches a glimpse of your glistening fingers and grabs them. Your eyes snap back to him, not fighting him as he brings your fingers to his mouth and licks your slick off of them with a hum.

“You taste as sweet as you smell, did you know that?”

You grind your teeth together, refusing to break the stare down with Shirabu. At the feel of his teeth scraping along the pads of your fingers, you release a short breath and glance down to catch his lips quirking into smug smile.

“You have the whole team thinking that you’re something precious to be protected and yet here you are touching yourself to the thought of me telling you just how worthless you are.” He berates, eyes lidded and voice low. You shiver.

Seeing you so complacent under him, Shirabu felt invigorated to explore your body and see how far he could push before breaking you.

A calloused-roughened hand drifts southward and your breathing picks up in anticipation. He ignores your reaction to his touch in favour for pressing the wet cotton against your folds. Teeth sink into his bottom lip at the breathy noise you make.

Not wasting time, he pulls your panties down and tosses them over his shoulder. The position he was in wouldn’t do for what he had in store for you, so he climbed onto the bed and rested on his knees between your legs.

Recognising the flare of embarrassment that you’ve become well acquainted with today, you press your thighs together. Shirabu is unamused with this and you find yourself at the mercy of his sharp tongue yet again.

“No need to get shy now. I already know how filthy you are,” Shirabu says indifferently, prying your thighs apart with strong hands and taking you in.

“Look at how wet you are.” His fingers ghost over your hole, gathering some slick before inserting two of them in one swift move.

You yelp at the sudden move, feeling full from his fingers alone. His fingers were much larger and thicker than yours were, already stretching your walls. It was almost enough to scratch the itch you’ve felt since the argument.

“S-shit.” You stammer, grabbing at his shoulders as he begins to pump them into you.

“You’re soaking,” Shirabu admires the slick dribbling from your sopping hole. “You like being treated like this.”

“Shut up.” You say, narrowing your eyes at him, hating his smug little smile.

He doesn’t verbally respond, instead fanning out his fingers as wide as they go. You throw your head back and give a low moan and his smile stretches wider.

“You can say whatever you want, but your body doesn’t lie.” He presses his fingers together and wind them around each other and starts pumping them in and out of you.

Your chest heaves as you restrain the lewd noises that tried to claw their way out of your throat. You wanted to curse at him for walking into your room without permission. You wanted to pull at his hair for triggering your dirty realisation. You wanted to fuck him for working magic with his fingers.

“Please.” The words slip out without realisation and your eyes fly open, feeling betrayed by your own body.

Has your whole damn body turned against you? It answers your question by sending a wave of fresh slick at Shirabu’s hungry expression.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He says, grabbing your legs and pulling them wider apart, completely exposing you. You covered your face in embarrassment. “I guess even dirty girls have manners.”

A hand leaves your leg for a brief moment and you refuse to look down as you hear a zipper and the sound of fabric being pulled down. But just like with how today has been going, your eyes disobey and stray towards his groin.

Shirabu held his length at the base, but his hand doesn’t conceal the slight upwards curve that you just knew would feel amazing inside. You note with surprise that he’s just a bit bigger than you expected in both girth and length.

Maybe his dick of a personality at times was to compensate for more than his pretty boy looks.

You very nearly choke on your own spit as he rubs his length along the inside your folds that he holds open, slicking himself up. Your juices glisten along his length and highlight the veins decorating the sides, causing your thighs to tense with the knowledge that it was soon going to be inside of you.

Releasing his length, his hands slot in the back of your knees, pull your legs wide apart and press your thighs to your chest. The position has you exposed in a way you’ve never been before. Your face is hot with embarrassment as Shirabu watches at the way your entrance twitches.

“Let’s see if you can take cock as well as you take criticism.”

Shirabu then slams himself inside in one thrust and you bite back a yell. You’ve never felt so full in your life with his rigid length stuffed inside and stretching you so completely.

Shirabu doesn’t wait for you adjust, a scream dies in your throat as he pulls out and rams back in with intent force. Right at the beginning, Shirabu doesn’t afford you the luxury of deluding yourself into thinking this was anything but fucking in its most primal form.

The pressure inside of you built with every clap of your hips. You swore his tip brushed against the entrance to your cervix a few times, wrenching a cry from your lips.

Every noise you made served to spur him on, hands becoming a bruising force holding on your legs. The pace was punishing but you felt rewarded every time his cock dragged out and in, creating friction that had your toes curling and mind clouding over.

The cock pummelling inside of you was much larger and longer than his fingers, the stretch edged with pain that made it hard to breathe. This added a new layer to your ecstasy and had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“I wonder how they would react to seeing you being used by me.” He growls, pressing in deep.

“They’d want to join in. You’d probably enjoy getting used and marked up by them. I bet you would even beg for their cum.”

“No –“

“Then why are you getting tighter? You’re such a dirty little slut getting off to the thought of the team using you like a fuck toy.”

“I –“ Shirabu cuts you off again.

“Not that it matters, I wouldn’t them. They wouldn’t know how to satisfy this greedy hole of yours.” The bruising pressure of his hands almost distract you from his long, hard thrusts, reaching much deeper than you thought possible. You let out a loud moan.

“But I do.” He grins.

Taking in your lewd noises, he proceeds to litter your chest with indents of his sharp teeth. A few times he has you clenching down fiercely on his cock as he bites hard enough to draw blood and for tears to well up. The pain was another layer to the decadent feast that Shirabu was subjecting you to at no cost except for your total submission. You’d be lying if you said the thought of submitting to him more often didn’t turn you on, causing fresh slick to rush out and make squelching noises whenever your bodies connected.

He lands another hard thrust that has your walls fluttering around his length. You dig your nails into his shoulders, able to feel his base swell, signifying your tryst nearing its end as his pace grows less rhythmic and more frantic as Shirabu obviously getting close to his peak.

Knowing it wasn’t going to be long before he lost himself, he nosed along the exposed column of your throat, seeking out the sensitive patch of skin. You release a whimper as he brushes against your scent gland and while you were out of heat, it was still incredibly sensitive to the touch of his lips.

His sharp canines scrape against your skin and you pulse around him at the feeling. You run your nails across his shoulders as he does it again, this time applying more pressure.

“Yes. Fuck, please.”

Shirabu laughs cruelly into your ear.

“You think you’ve deserved my mark?” He demands, working through your tightness with a sneer. If you got any tighter, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. “Fuck you’re so tight for me.”

The coil inside your gut grows tighter and tighter with each passing second. You were so damn close, but you needed something more. The words to plead for more were lost under his frenzied thrusts. You choose to whine, knowing it will convey enough to him.

“You’re close, huh?” His hot breath washes over your sweaty skin. “Then cum for me. Lets see what kind of face you make now.”

The points of his canines scrape harshly against the scent gland one last time before he buries them into the crook your neck, piercing skin and drawing blood. This time you do shout. You have no idea if it was his name or even a word at all, mind preoccupied as you were pushed off the edge and into the mind-numbing waters below.

Shirabu groaned as blood fills his mouth and your warmth squeezed down on his length hard. Breaking away from your skin, a few beads of blood escapes the puncture wounds as he grips your legs even harder as he tries to work his knot into you.

With one last deep thrust, his knot catches and he releases inside of you. Your voice is hoarse as you whimper at the sensation of him spilling into you, hot and heavy.

Shirabu hovers above you, elbows locked to prevent from collapsing on top of you as he continues to fill you. His characteristically pinched expression is traded for one of bliss and if you weren’t already winded, it would’ve stolen your breath away.

He cracks an eye open to see you staring back with a face similar to the one you made earlier this afternoon. A swell of pride rises within him at how wrecked you looked. Unspilt tears in your eyes, bare chest littered in violet and fuchsia splotches and hair a mess, you’ve never looked so alluring.

If his knot wasn’t already buried inside of you, Shirabu was sure he could go for another round. Instead, he sighs as he carefully lowers himself onto his forearms to give his aching arms a rest.

You hiss as the knot pulls at your entrance with his movement. He murmurs an apology, ragged voice weirdly soothing you. Relaxing into pillows under your head, you let him rest his head against your shoulder.

A comfortable silence settles over your exhausted forms as you both patiently wait for the knot to go down enough for him to slip out so you can have a much-needed shower.

“I swear if you insult me like that in front of the team again, I will maim you.” You say, needing him to know this – whatever this was – is to stay between them and the four walls of the room.

Shirabu huffs a laugh and brings up a hand to roll a pert nipple, drawing out a quiet gasp from you.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

“It better be.” You grumble, not bothering to bat away his hand with how stubborn he can be.

You ride out his knot with him messing around with your chest, going between stroking the bruised skin that already ached to flicking your pert buds. You reciprocated by running your fingers across the raised lines spreading across his shoulders, feeling vindicated.

In this quiet moment with no words exchanged except for soft caresses, you let yourself relax under a placated Shirabu.

Notes: I’m not entirely happy with this but it’s been sitting in my wips for two months and I had to finish it… I may come back and re-write this one day when my head isn’t scrambled by exams and assignments ahaha

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!!

#shirabu kenjirou x reader #shirabu kenjiro x reader #shirabu kenjirou #haikyuu!!#Haikyu!!#shirabu smut #haikyuu!! x reader #I changed the banner design and I already hate themmmm #rip #'graphic design is my passion' type bs #I will never enough Shirabu in my life like my man needs more love #a/b/o dynamics #shiratorizawa

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ready-to-obeyme · 4 years

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[OM!] (American) College!AU Demon Brothers

Scenario: Headcanons on the demon brothers as college students (specifically in the US because I don’t know how college works elsewhere), their possible majors, career goals, extracurriculars, ~GPA~ and whatever else I could think of + how meet you in college

Note: I’m hoping to do a Part 2 with the Undateables but honestly… we’ll see lol. This is based off something ~A~ and I thought of for our specific university but we’ve made it broad enough to share HAHA this turned out VERY long

Lucifer

Majoring in Political Sciences with a minor in Psychology

Pre-Law-- most likely immigration law or child custody (there’s definitely a backstory here)

Initially went to community college for the first two years to save up money to take care of his younger siblings

Rejected an offer to go to an Ivy League because it was too expensive; if his siblings ever found out they’d be furious that he’d give up on that chance, but he knows he can succeed wherever he goes (and besides, family is first)

Transferred into a 4-year university his junior year

Very high GPA-- VERY

In a professional fraternity with Diavolo and Barbatos

He didn’t think he’d join one either but Diavolo was the vice chair when he transferred in and the president the year after so… ~nepotism?~ and also Lucifer is charming as heck so no surprise he’d get in

Also rooms with Diavolo and Barbatos

Goes to the gym regularly just to keep fit; gets goaded by Diavolo and Satan into joining an IM team with his frat brothers and actual brothers-- probably basketball or flag football

Probably meets you at a interclub council meeting and mutters under his breath how useless the board members are and you overhear

“Never have I met more incompetent people.”

“Lmao mood”

“!!!”

Keeps sitting next to you at every interclub meeting then after because at least there’s someone that can keep his mind stimulated (thinks you’re hot if you’re competent btw)

If you somehow meet him on campus, he’s the type of guy to put his hand up and pretend he didn’t see you (just kidding, he always ends up saying hi anyways)

Will Absolutely Lecture You if you are procrastinating on studying especially if your midterm is, like, TOMORROW

Always ends up studying with him because he’s actually focused on studying and glares at you if you get distracted (but hey you get good scores in the end)

Mammon

Majoring in Business Econ/Economics, Minoring in Statistics

(always ends up in the middle of the “is econ a humanities or a STEM major” debate that leaves him left for dead)

Planning to work in Business as Finance -- probably has been treasurer or finance director for a club; can even see him being a banker if it suits his plans better

Goes to a four-year university

Decent GPA (or Lucifer would absolutely destroy him), and does REALLY well in mathematics classes

Would room with Lucifer and his posse if they all go to the same school

Probably in a Business Frat as well because he’s pretty charismatic when it comes down to it but was an RA for some of his years for the free rooming and dining hall privileges

Is a very chill and understanding RA (as in he smokes weed with you when he’s off-duty) but is surprisingly well-versed in dealing with roommate issues

Works part-time (gasp) to buy stuff off of Amazon and go out to places

Spends a lot of time exploring places with his friends, going hiking, rock-climbing, clubbing-- which is expensive, as it turns out, so he needed to be able to afford it somehow

Meets you when you’re eating your lunch outside somewhere and he asks you if you have a dollar he could borrow for a vending machine snack

You exchange numbers with him so he can pay it back (even though you honestly don’t really need it, but why not) and turns out he’s in your GE class

“Heyyy wassup! So glad I have a friend in this class”

“Oh by the way, did you finish the homework? Haha, I forgot it.”

Mammon always repays you for your help in food though so you aren’t complaining

Leviathan

Majoring in Computer Sciences

And honestly that’s too much for me already-- the man is doing computer programming, coding-- WHEW-- and they do NOT rest

Goes to a community college but honestly has no problems cinching internships. The computer is his domain-- online applications are EASY, doing projects NOT as easy, interviews? HARD-- REALLY HARD (someone help him)

Probably intends to work with a big company like Google if only to help supply his income so he can live his life going to AX and buying merch

Most likely moved out of his house mid-college with his online friends (who are luckily compatible with him living-space wise) and visits home once a week

There’s two potential sides you can meet first:

Either you meet him at a convention and you both gush about the same character and anime and somehow find each other online (not college related)

Or his favorite Ruri-chan keychain gets broken off in the computer lab, and you’re the one running after him to give it him

He may or may not owe you his life after that (and if you enjoy anime, well that’s a bonus)

Both of these meetings can happen if he doesn’t recognize you in class because you were in cosplay-- imagine the surprise

The two of you as friends are MASTER PROCRASTINATORS at every assignment the two of you have-- so low-key not a great influence-- but you have fun together watching animes, playing games, talking about life-- anything but actual work

Always ends up scrambling to finish things-- but he keeps doing it because it’s been working for him so far

You help him prepare for interviews because he’s always nervous before each one regardless of how well his application looks

Satan

Majoring in Comparative Literature AND Anthropology (ya boy is doing the whole nine yards)

Planning to get his Master’s and then a PhD in one of his majors (whichever proves to be more engaging for him)-- visibly excited to become a Professor

College was meant for Satan-- like REALLY; the man is in LOVE with learning; most likely to go and be accepted to an Ivy-League after Lucifer but... truly believes you can get a good education anywhere so it depends on his financial standing (and how much scholarship he gets)

Does get a little disgruntled when his classes aren’t available but doesn’t mind learning something new-- if the professor bores him to death, he’ll read the book

Really good at tutoring people; someone suggests that he works as a peer-learning facilitator/writing tutor and he does-- might as well make bank doing something you always do anyways

Joins a writing/journal club as an extracurricular and a club that provides tutoring services to the underserved community-- surprisingly good with kids!

He knows friends in high places, so if he wanted to, could get into any party without batting an eye and his favorite professors love him

Spends a lot of his time going out to the city and exploring places, similarly to Mammon, rock-climbing, hiking, paragliding-- anything

He is VERY well-rounded as you can see; competes with Lucifer to see whose GPA is better though

You probably meet him during office hours, and you can only stare in awe as he asks questions that you had in mind, but better; if you’re visibly confused about something, he’ll take his time to help you too (it’s habit at this point)

Ask him for his contact info and you’ll get it, and maybe repay him in coffee? (You always see him at the cafe on campus.)

Most likely to have a specific spot in a cafe that he is always at that the workers actually save a spot for him or give him his usual order before he even arrives-- may or may not have helped them edit their essays or with their homework as a thank-you so you KNOW they’ll love him forever

The type of person to help you make flashcards and cram if you need it

Asmodeus

Majoring in Dance and Fine Arts (I HC going to NYU specifically)

Considering going for an Master of Fine Arts degree but he might just move to New York and go for being a Broadway Star

College is mainly just training for him and hoping to land gigs in local theater-- and the university theater if there is one-- and building his resume for his big break

Has SO many extracurriculars, all pertaining to his career choice, but also because he enjoys what he does: drama, competitive dance team, acapella, fashion design

Makes an unbelievable amount of friends, incredibly good at networking

The first time you saw him was when he was performing for a local theater and you were in love with his performance, and the next time you saw him in the hallway of a classroom building, you told him how much you enjoyed it

Always accepts compliments about his looks with grace, but there’s something about truly being admired for his acting and singing that has him preening

Invites you to come out to his next performance, and if not his, then to another play-- and it can be a date, but up to you ;)

The man is the KING of Multiple Talents and has big dreams to match

Always finds a way to hang out with you and drag you to every club that he can use his fake-id for (and when he’s actually 21 and above, gets a little offended that he doesn’t get ID’d)

A night in the town with you is always a good night!

Sometimes when he has practical exams coming up, he asks you to watch him perform-- and he likes your compliments but actually takes getting all the moves seriously so you better pay attention!

Most likely to move far away to reach his dreams, but he would take you with him if he could-- his little star

Beelzebub

Majoring in Physiological Sciences

Pre-Nursing or Pre-Sports Medicine

He’s a little undecided, but he’s definitely going to go into the health field because he likes the idea of being able to use his strength to help others

Gets a scholarship from the university because he’s part of the football team, which is actually pretty hard on him because Fall Semester/Quarter he has to keep skipping classes for games

Always brings a snack to eat with him during lecture-- and is not afraid to bring his entire lunch and make it right in the front row, though he tends to stick to the back because they tend to have electrical plugs

You most likely meet him during lecture: he offers you an entire sandwich (not a chip bag, not fruit snacks, an entire LUNCH) because he heard your stomach growl during class

From then on, you collect notes for him when he’s gone from games and even go to games if you aren’t usually the type to just to see how he’s doing; it’s hard trying to find you among the huge bleachers, but he always asks you where you’re sitting anyways

Really appreciate it if you help him study into late at night because it IS hard balancing sports and academics

He most likely doesn’t really have any time for anything else so he usually makes up for it during the rest of the year when training is less to volunteer in the hospital or at the gym as a personal trainer

If you ask him to teach you how to properly lift weights, he’ll definitely help out and the both of you can work out together-- though you feel bad when he has to add four extra weights to each side after you finish your reps

Belphegor

Majoring in Computer Graphics/Animation

Intending to go into making animation or game design-- is one of the brothers who doesn’t really know exactly what he wants to do yet because he’s afraid that doing what he loves as a job will ruin it for him

His family reassures him that they’ll support him whether or not he continues with his path in life, but he’s considering art school and then taking internships in places so he has a better idea on what he wants

Most likely to sell his own original work and become a full-time artist regardless

I think you already know how you meet him-- he’s sleeping in a lecture hall-- either against the wall or on the small piece of wood they call a desk when class ends and he’s still sleeping; and you wake him up

Sleepily thanks you and continues to sleep through every class that you wake him up to; when you ask him why he doesn’t just go home and sleep, he tells you he’s too lazy to walk back and forth from his dorm/apartment to campus (mood)

When you add each other on Snapchat or something, he sends you pics of ‘places to nap’ on campus

You always end up studying together because he’s actually pretty good at understanding lecture stuff despite not being awake for most of it-- apparently he’s used to teaching himself

Will make you art for your birthday and will vehemently refuse payment so he just tells you to take him out for dinner instead

If you talk about how you’re not sure on what you want to do in life too, he’ll probably say ‘mood’ but is most likely to encourage you to do whatever you want to do in life too

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me shall we date?#ngl i would date beel in this au 100%

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higuchimon · 3 years

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[fanfic] Returning

Principal Samejima knew that something had changed. It had been a week already since the vast majority of his students had returned from that other world. They'd told him what they could about what happened. He knew that Juudai would return, sooner or later. He had faith in that young man, who had already accomplished so very much.

His attention dropped to the potted plant that concealed his favored hiding place for the Sangenma. He'd hoped that when the students returned that so would they. Yet there hadn't been a sign of them either. No one knew where they were, though Johan Andersen had given his opinion that they still remained in the possession of Yubel.

That worried Samejima more than he wished to express. While a human could not play those cards without them draining the life-force of all the spirits in the vicinity, a creature like Yubel had no such limitations. From what O'Brien and Johan had been able to tell him, Yubel certainly controlled the three cards effortlessly. What could come of that, he had no idea.

But something had changed. He'd heard a loud noise from outside but by the time he'd reached the window, whatever it was couldn't be seen. He considered his options, then decided as Principal, he needed to go see what it was himself. Straightening his jacket, he headed out with a decisive step.

When he stepped out of the main doors of the building, he saw something he truly hadn't expected. Or in fairness, someone that he hadn't expected.

"Juudai-kun?" He regarded the young Osiris Red as Juudai approached. "You've returned?" He knew what his eyes told him but he wasn't going to rule out the possibility of someone somehow pretending to be Juudai. It wouldn't be at all the first time that illusions or shapeshifters or what all turned up.

But that brilliant smile told him otherwise - though he thought perhaps it's brilliance dimmed a trifle. He'd heard what had happened in the other world, and he had a good idea of who else looked out from the world alongside of Juudai. He didn't let his guard down for a moment.

"Hey, Principal Samejima." Juudai greeted with a wave. "It's been a while."

Samejima agreed. He could see Marufuji Shou lurking not that far away, looking far happier than he had in the last week. That definitely helped him believe this was truly Juudai. "It's good to see you again."

"Glad I got back." Juudai shook his head for a second, then squared up his shoulders. "There's something I need to give you. Well, something someone needs to give you anyway." His eyes flicked to one side and for a heartbeat, Samejima thought that he saw them flicker in two different colors.

Then a tall creature stood there, a strange mix of dragon and demon, wings spread out over Juudai, arms folded over their chest. It had been ages since he'd seen even a picture of the card, but he knew who this was at once - Yubel. The stories the others told had been very clear about what the powerful spirit looked like.

"Yubel." He wasn't sure if he said it with fear or respect. Shou-kun hadn't said much about the final duel, only that Juudai ended it in some fashion and then 'went off on a journey to become a man'. He'd suspected - but he'd had no evidence until now.

Juudai nudged the spirit lightly, a fond little smile on his lips. "Go on. Do it."

Yubel sighed a great and deep sigh before holding out their hand. In it there rested three cards. Samejima took a moment before he understood what they were, then quickly took them. "The Sangenma..."

Juudai nodded, then nudged Yubel again. Yubel glowered at him, but not in a way that made Samejima fearful for his student. It really looked more like a pair of old and close friends, or even - even - well, he'd never thought of that before.

He shook his head to clear his mind before Yubel spoke.

"I took them to facilitate finding my beloved Juudai again. I - should not have." It seemed as if the words were being wrung out of them. Samejima had no idea himself of what to say.

"Thank you," he managed, tucking them into a pocket. He would return them to their hiding place in due course. For now, he glanced to Juudai. "Is there anything else that you need right now?"

"Not now. I just want something to eat and some sleep. Tome-san's still awake, isn't she?" Juudai wondered as Yubel faded away, clearly not thrilled with speaking to people.

"I believe so." Samejima agreed. Even if she wasn't, she would gladly have gotten up to fix Juudai something. That was just the kind of person that she was.

Those eyes I saw before. Those were Yubel's eyes. In Juudai's face. He didn't want to think about this a great deal. He'd suspected something would happen that would bring Yubel back into Juudai's life sooner or later, but he still wasn't sure about all the details of what had happened, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know. He would figure it out later, perhaps. For now, it was getting late, and he had a very full day coming far too soon.

Juudai nodded and raised one hand in farewell before turning and heading away, Shou joining him before he'd gone too far. Samejima watched the two of them until they were hidden by the curve of the path, then turned and headed inside. He could feel the weight of the Sangenma in his pocket and wanted them back into their sanctuary as quickly as he could. He didn't have the talent to see spirits that others did, but he could feel their regard on his back no matter what.

Sometimes he wished there was someone else who could guard them, but he didn't know if even someone like Juudai could keep their power properly contained. He didn't want to find out that any number of spirits died because of being in the wrong hands. It had already come close to happening once before. Perhaps it had been just as well that when they were stolen this last time, it was when they were in a world where their powers could be contained by other means. It could have been far, far worse.

At least Juudai had returned now. Whether it were possible for Marufuji Ryou or Amon Garam to do so remained to be seen. Though also from what he'd heard from Edo Phoenix, few people would miss Amon Garam if he didn't return.

But I will have to explain this to his family. Garam Finance would not be easy to deal with. He wondered if he could get Juudai to help with that.

But that remained in the future. For now, he headed to return the Sangenma to their proper resting place, and get on to his. Tomorrow was a school day.

The End

Notes: I actually do not find Samejima to be the useless idiot fanon likes to portray him as. I could go on and on why he does what he does, but the gist of it is, he’s fully aware of who Juudai is and always has been, and wants him to be a mature person capable of fulfilling his destiny to save the world. A destiny that he would have regardless of what Samejima did.

#fanfic #higuchimon writes #ygo gx #gxmonth2021 #Principal Samejima #yuuki juudai #yubel

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itsuki-minamy · 3 years

Text

“KEBAB SPECIAL TOTSUKA”

* Mini Episodes KFCN (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Totsuka Tatara started selling doner kebab at a street food stall, because his friend Murat Uchan from Turkey exacerbated his chronic back pain.

"Tatara-san. I'm sorry, but could you take over the shop for about two weeks?"

Before moving to Shizume, Uchan-san, who has been in Osaka for 10 years, consulted with Totsuka, and when he asked about it, he said "Yes, it's okay." and he took it easy. Totsuka immediately drove Uchan-san's mobile kitchen vehicle from the next day to open the shop.

From the preparation of the lamb for the kebabs to the operation, he does everything himself and makes a certain amount of operating profit, although he is not as good as Uchan-san. No matter how much experience he had working part-time, he helped Uchan-san's mobile shop several times in advance, but his culinary skills and managerial sense were far from amateurish.

However, after the first day, Totsuka Tatara's face (albeit smiling as usual) didn't look very happy. Thoughtfully he crossed his arms and devised some plans in his head.

And starting the next day he made some changes in the business style. Of course, with the permission of the Uchan-san.

First, he changed the taste of the kebab. Originally, Uchan-san, who has lived in Japan for a long time, added the Hatcho Miso to the hidden flavor and fixed it for the Japanese, but brought it back to a more ethnic and authentic flavor. There are many foreigners in Shizume and a wide variety of restaurants is thriving, so it was decided that it would be easier to accept.

In addition, the location of the business was moved from the front of the station to the plaza. He makes the most of personal connections, prepare nice chairs, tables and umbrellas, and create an environment where you can eat immediately after taking out. He also changes the paper to a more colorful, modern and more "shiny" one. As a result, the number of clients, mainly young women, increased significantly.

About two days before Uchan-san returned, Totsuka just couldn't go to the store and started hiring Yata as a temporary part-time job.

And his prosperity caught the attention of the lord of the square.

"It's annoying, you…"

At night, a burly man wearing an eye patch appeared in front of Totsuka and Yata, who were preparing to remove the shop, lifted his head neatly, and it was amazing.

"Ah? Who are you?"

Yata, who was not so scared, stood in front of the big man without making a difference in height and ignited the weapon.

"Is he a gangster on the floor? It was a shame if he could get it even for the shoba fee. I'm making a mistake."

"Yata. That person is different. That person is not a gangster."

Totsuka laughed and stepped between the two.

"He is the owner of the 'Man's Innocence'. You see, he is a ramen stand that he opened in front of the fountain."

In addition to the Totsuka kebabs, there are several street vendors operating in this square. Totsuka successfully obtained a business license from the square administration office, and politely greeted each shop, who are his sempais, on the first day. And now, while the owner of the "innocence of man" was standing in front of them...

"Oh, good luck at best."

He raised his voice saying that.

"Did we do something that bothers you?"

When Totsuka asked with a smile,

"No, not really."

The great man finally laughed.

"Suddenly you got sick, so I wonder if you'll be open elsewhere from tomorrow."

(Totsuka-san.)

Yata hid his voice from him and listened.

(This guy has been flirting with us because our kebabs have increased in sales.)

He knew Totsuka and so on.

"What if I say no?"

When Yata screamed and provoked,

"That's right. I don't care... I wonder if an unfortunate accident might happen to him."

The big man spread his hands playfully. He flicked his finger to the side and stuck out his tongue like a villain. Totsuka sighed a little.

"I understand your purpose. So why not do this? Tomorrow, we will compete with the sales of others. And if we lose, we will leave here. How about that?"

"Hmm... okay? Don't you know I've been the number one salesperson in the area for the past few years?"

"Oh. Instead, if we win, can you change the name of your stand, the 'Loser Dog Ramen'? The 'Man's Innocence' sign was always annoying."

Totsuka spat venom as he smiled. He seems mild-mannered, and he is one of Homura's executives, but in an emergency, he will cut off that image. Yata whistled. When the big man frowned...

"You will swallow your words!"

He left that place with abrupt steps. Totsuka and Yata looked at each other and laughed.

Originally, he only came to this plaza temporarily to facilitate Totsuka to do so, and a few days later, if he returned the traveling shop to Uchan-san, the place of business would simply return to the front of the station as before, so, to be honestly, he deliberately bothered to compete in sales, etc. It doesn't make much sense to do it. However, he was willing to accept such threatening words.

"Well, I want to pop a bubble."

That was the case with Totsuka. And Yata also strongly agreed.

The next day, the day of the decisive battle. The sky was clear. As it was a holiday, there were a lot of people. As a rule of the square, the business hours of the stalls are established from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. During that time, the game was how many sales could be increased.

A bowl of ramen costs 600 yen. The kebab costs 500 yen. There is not much difference in price, so simply the number sold will be the game.

The ramen preceded a bit in the morning, but the kebabs gradually started to come off around noon.

"It's amazing! Totsuka-san!"

Yata, who was rushing to cut the meat while he was sweating on his forehead, said that. After wrapping the kebab and handing it to the customer with a smile, Totsuka replied.

"Hey. I advertised a lot."

Totsuka knows everything about this city. How many people are there, in what time zone, and in what age group. Akagi and Bando, who are not at this location, were allowed to distribute promotional brochures at key points in Shizume.

He has also opened a SNS account on behalf of Uchan-san, who had been indifferent to such things for about a week. The announcement there was gradually beginning to take effect.

After fourteen, the victory of the kebab seemed certain...

"Well, isn't it strange?"

Yata asked a question. He was really interested in Totsuka. On the ramen side, the customer base had started to change.

"Man's Innocence" usually had five seats, but today, towards a special eight-seat chair and table around the booth, it was uncomfortable to see all of them, similar, it was occupied by men with a pleasant atmosphere.

They never get up from their seats after eating a bowl of ramen and continue to eat two or three bowls on the spot. Some people look at this and grin or strike a provocative pose.

Then, when he noticed Totsuka's eyes, the owner of "Man's Innocence" crossed his arms behind the counter and smiled a triumphant smile.

Totsuka coughed in a dazed and slightly amused tone.

"I see. Is it a strategy to fill all the seats with your relatives and just replace them no matter if they pretend to be?"

Yata shook his body in anger and clenched his fist.

"Damn."

"Totsuka-san, are you silent?"

Yata said that with the intention of "Let's go hit him." Totsuka scratched his head.

"Hmm. In the beginning, I didn't have any special arrangement to forbid that sort of thing."

To be honest, it is not a violation of the rules. Yata made a plaintive voice.

"Damn."

At that moment, the sight in Totsuka's eyes jumped and he smiled.

"Well, it seems we also have a god of salvation."

Yata also followed Totsuka's line of sight and raised his voice in joy.

"Kamamoto!"

It was Rikio Kamamoto who calmly appeared at the scene.

"What? I heard it from Shohei and the others. If you have a food store, give me a call."

"Eat all you want."

Totsuka immediately told Yata to start preparing more kebab.

In the end, "Man's Innocence" dug his grave by his own strategy. Few strong young men can continue to eat three or four cups of ramen, but Kamamoto is like a kebab. Like sushi and sandwiches, he tossed them into his mouth and ate one after another.

The owner of "Man's Innocence" finished with only an hour left until the closing of the store. When he walked to the front of Totsuka, he took off the headband that was wrapped around his head and took it, tilting his head as he held it in front of his body.

"Well, I give up. It may be unpleasant though, but can you forgive me for changing the signboard?"

Totsuka and Yata looked at each other and smiled.

"Now…"

"That I have to do?"

They were a bit mean and wanted to do it.

"Well, don't raise your head anymore. We won, but you don't have to change the signboard."

"Oh, yeah. At first, we weren't serious either. Oh! Were we the only ones who won?"

Suddenly, the two of them ran out and urged the owner of "Man's Innocence" to raise his head. The owner moistened his eyes.

"Oh, you are a good guy."

He was impressed. However, Totsuka and Yata knew it. Kamamoto, who enjoyed the kebab to the bottom of his heart, made his way towards "Man's Innocence" as he tossed his stomach to change his mood.

Eventually the game was abandoned and Totsuka successfully completed the period entrusted to him and returned the kebab stand to Uchan-san.

Both Totsuka and Yata made a lot of money, but it must have been Kamamoto, who was able to eat delicious food from the bottom of his heart, at the level of once a year or not, who was more satisfied than anyone else.

#k #k project #k fan clan #homura #yata misaki #totsuka tatara #k stories #k seven stories

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grimoire-of-seven · 4 years

Note

I have a crush on you

PROMPT :: “I have a crush on you..”

Rating: SFW

Words: 350-450 per character

Characters: Demon brothers + MC/Gender-Neutral Reader

Note: Thank you for the request! Although you didn’t specify which character, I took it upon myself to write for all of the demon brothers! It’s a little long so please continue reading under the cut!

LUCIFER

You stood your ground before him, eyes determined to express all these pent up emotions into words. When you arrived at the student council office, Lucifer was busy with several of the student council papers but insisted that he is listening to you.

“Lucifer,” You called out to the black-haired demon infront of you, hands clutching your Devildom Law book for courage, “I have a crush on you.”

“Hmm, yes,” He nodded his head almost automatically, his focus towards the papers unwavering, “You can put your term paper draft on my desk. I shall attend to that shortly after I finish this–”

“I said, ‘I have a crush on you’, Lucifer.” You repeated with a louder and much more resolute voice.

With that, his hands stopped mid-way through putting down one of the stacks. He directed his attention towards you, there was no semblance of an expression in his visage aside from its usual stoicism.

After that one second of shock, Lucifer then smiled at you with… was that pity or sadness in his– “…take that away.”

You gasped his statement, appalled that he dares to tell you how to deal with your feelings. You finally gathered the courage to tell him and he’s telling you to ‘take it away’?!

Within an instant, you made your way to his table and slammed your hand at his desk, “Now, listen here, you little shi–”

Wha-?!

He pulled your necktie with enough force that had you reeling towards him, the tips of your noses barely missing a millimeter.

“I’m just teasing.” He chuckled in delight, those piercing dark eyes staring at yours with such intensity that made your knees weak like jelly. “Time and time again, you amaze me with your honesty.”

Goosebumps trailed your arms as Lucifer’s hand caressed your cheek delicately. If he comes any closer, you’re most certain that he’ll hear the embarrassingly fast beating of your heart. “I like that.”

MAMMON

“Plus four!” Mammon exclaimed in glee, slamming the card in the low coffee table. Before reaching to the deck for four more cards, the white-haired demon stopped you in your tracks and placed yet another identical card, “Another plus four! I change the cards to blue!”

“You can’t stack plus four cards! UNO tweeted that before–”

“We’re using local rules here, dummy, get with the program!” He smugly replied, smirking at you as you reach for eight cards. “Taste my reverse card!”

“Yikes,” You sighed at his beaming energy of mischief, placing a blue card down, “You sure play dirty…”

“I get to ask ya one truth or a dare if I win!” Mammon nodded eagerly at your words as if it’s a compliment to him. He removed another blue card from his deck and exclaimed, “UNO!”

“Greedy… you’re too greedy for victory.” You changed the colour of the cards to yellow in high hopes that his last card isn’t the same.

Please don’t be yellow–

“Got’cha!” Damn.

“Truth or dare?” He asked excitedly with the energy of a toddler on a sugar-high.

He would definitely ask something very private and embarrassing if you chose truth, given that he’s animatedly eager to get you to lose this round. With that in mind, you chose the lesser evil, “Dare.”

“I dare you to tell the truth!”

This stupid idiot… You sighed and nodded, “Fine. But give me the cards, I’ll shuffle it this time.”

“Who are you interested among the seven of us brothers?”

Ah, so that’s what this is. You chuckled, his earlier demeanor making much more sense with his ‘dare’. “No wonder you’re pumped up when I said we should higher the stakes.”

“Ya didn’t wanna bet money!”

“It’s an UNO game, man.”

“So, who is it?” He asked, leaning back to his sofa with crossed-arms as he waited for you to hand him his set of cards, “Maybe if you slide in some cash, I can help you get–”

“He’s quite cute.” You began, taking a card as a starter and waiting for Mammon to put down his first.

“Oh? So that counts out Asmo since he’d beautiful!”

“He makes me laugh a lot.” You smiled, “Reverse card, reverse card, plus four, change colour to yellow.”

“GAH! I don’t have any yellow!!!” Mammon twisted from his seat at the realization of his misfortune, seeing that you only have three cards remaining in your hand. “That can’t be Levi or Lucifer or Satan! Those guys would choke if they’re asked to share a joke. So, it’s either Beel or Belphie, huh!”

You shook your head at his words, placing down another card, “I have a crush on you, Mammon.”

“Wh–” He looked up at you with wide-eyes, “No! Q-Quit playin’ dirty! I ain’t fallin’ for that.”

“Reverse card, UNO,” You stared back at him, eyes never leaving his as you placed your last cards, “I win.”

LEVIATHAN

What does Ruri-chan have that you don’t?

Dejectedly wiping the said figurine with a damp towel, you asked that question to yourself.

You were summoned at Levi’s room earlier that day for some ‘important friend training’ to be facilitated by the purple-haired demon himself… only to find out that he’s cleaning his figures and needed a few more hands on deck.

Why does he like Ruri-chan so much? She’s a fictional character, for god’s sake!

“Hey, Levi,” You started, looking up from your task, “If I say I have a crush on you, what would you do?”

The man in question stared at you for a moment before erupting into a boisterous laughter. “LMFAO,” he spelled in glee, hands waving off your statement as if it’s a mere jest, “That’s the funniest joke I have ever heard from you in a long while lolol.”

“Take this seriously, Levi!” You wrung the damp towel in annoyance and weaponized it against your companion, hitting him by the leg with enough force to have him yelp in pain.

“OW, TF you doing? That hurts!” He rubbed his leg in attempt to stave off the stinging feeling, only to realize your reaction to his answer, “Wait, that wasn’t a joke?”

“Do I look like-?!”

“WTF!? That’s a horrible decision!” Levi exclaimed in disbelief, his eyes scanning your expression for some sort of… mischief in your eyes or a slightly wolfish grin.

But all he saw was that you were genuinely serious - about him and your feelings for him.

“Why?” He breathed out the question, his head thinking of the times when you must’ve raised his intimacy close enough for you to drop that confession bomb on him, “Compared to Lucifer and Asmo, I’m not even the most handsome or popular character in this–”

“We’re not in a game.”

Levi went silent at your words.

Have you done it? Is this finally friendship over?

Panic began rising up your chest as he sat still, unmoving from his position. Before you can speak, he looked at you with a hopeful spark in his expression, “Then… does that mean I can like the main character, too?”

SATAN

Satan had offered to walk home with you together after hearing that Solomon is graciously tutoring you for certain RAD subjects – those that doesn’t exist in the human world. The blonde demon insisted that he doesn’t mind waiting for you given that there are still some things he has to do for the student council.

‘It sounds like an after-school date’, Solomon grinned at you before leaving. You swear, he’s got some sort of voodoo magic radar for your emotions.

Removing the thought of Solomon’s jests before you blush too hard, you thought of confessing to Satan before a certain someone runs his mouth about it. Should you…?

Yeah, it’s better to hear it from you than someone else – namely Solomon.

“Hey, Satan, I have a crush on you.” You told him, as casually as you can without breaking voice.

He stopped in his tracks, looking at you with disbelief. Satan opened his mouth to speak but stopped, taking a moment to think about his words, then simply asked, “Why…?”

Eh? “W-What do you mean ‘why’?”

You couldn’t really answer that. You’ve asked yourself a hundred times why you fell for a demon, the actual personification of Wrath itself, yet you can’t seem to find an answer for yourself. At least, you had no answers aside from… “I just really like you, Satan.”

He continued walking, you can feel the gears of his head turning as he oversees the situation in its logical perspective, “I’m a demon and you’re a human, need I remind you?”

That felt a pang on your chest, hearing him say it even though you are well aware of the fact.

Taking a deep breath to muster up the courage, you asked him for his final verdict, “So, you’re saying you don’t like me back?”

“Yes–!” He answered automatically, but then almost immediately denied, “Well, no.”

Huh. That’s quite confusing.

“I like you, too,” Satan smiled at you for a moment, “But things will be complicated if we think about this logically.”

Scratching the back of your head at his words, you couldn’t help yourself in saying, “When did love become a logical thing, though?”

He blushed at your words, hastening his walking speed to stop you from further seeing his reddened face, “S-Stop being too c-cute! I’m not lending you any more romance novels if you keep being so adorable!”

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus held your hand as if it was the most fragile thing in the world. With great precision, he coated your nails with an even layer of nail polish to match his wonderfully manicured ones.

People adore Asmodeus’ natural charm. What can you say? He’s absolutely flawless and drop-dead gorgeous.

Just thinking about the way his eyes sparkle at the news of Jeffrey Star’s new palette collection. The way he speaks excitedly whenever Prada presents their new line of designer bags. Hell, even talking about hand cream is a treat in itself whenever Asmodeus does it.

Look at you, absolutely whipped for this man and his undeniable charm.

He insists that you’re immune to his beauty yet you’re still attracted to him. It’s unfair to be this handsomely beautiful.

“Asmo, I think I have a crush on you.” You spouted out randomly, feeling his soft warm hands against yours.

“Of course, you do~” He replies as a matter-of-factly, “Everyone lusts over my magnificent–”

“I’m serious, Asmo.” You cut him off from his usual sugar-sweet line, “I like you.”

“Alright, humour me, love,” He put aside the nail polish and intertwined his hands in yours, his face closing towards yours dangerously, “If I accept your confession and we become a couple, what would you like to do with me…?”

With heated cheeks, you opened your mouth to speak but he sensually placed an index finger by your lips, he whispered with that hedonistic tone of his, “In private, that is…”

In private?! Gosh, he’s asking for a lot!

Suddenly feeling parched, you gulp at the thought of what you wanted out of him if he ever accepts you as a partner. Eyes flitting anywhere except towards his, you tried your best to hold your trembling body before him - backing down now might show your lack of conviction towards him, after all.

You mumbled softly, hoping that he can hear you through your closeness, “…ds with you.”

“Tsk tsk,” The peach-haired demon grinned as he clicked his tongue, “I can’t hear you with such a silent voice. You can do better than that~”

“M-Maybe hold h-hands with you… or c-cuddle if y-you want.” You repeated a bit more audibly, your blush deepening by the second, “I-It’d be fun to go o-on a café w-with just the two of us, too.”

“KYAAA~! That’s so wholesome and adorable!!!” Asmodeus squealed in delight at your answer, throwing himself at you in a tight embrace, “Alright, I’ll be your boyfriend and we’ll do all those together~! This is so exciting!”

“No!!! Asmo, my nails!”

BEELZEBUB

From whatever ‘reliable’ and expensive source you’ve heard [definitely not Mammon], Beel apparently loves a certain sandwich menu from Hell’s Kitchen. Unfamiliar with Devildom’s cuisine and Hell’s Kitchen’s menu, you were faced with a dilemma.

The question would be… which one of the three sandwiches in the menu he likes most?

This frustrating situation made you want to curse Mammon for scamming your 100Grimm with this useless piece of information. Sighing at the thought of having to buy all three just for good measure, you saw the Avatar of Gluttony himself walking pass the restaurant.

“Beel!” You exclaimed to get his attention, waving at the tall ginger-haired demon as he looked towards your general direction, “I have a question for you!”

He greeted you with that heart-melting smile of his, eager to answer any inquiries from you. You whisked him away from the street and into the shop, asking, “Which of the sandwiches in the menu do you like most?”

“What for?”

“Just answer the question, please~”

“The one with the tartare and cheese…” He replied, eyes dreamy at the menu board, most possibly captivated by the memory of having such a treat. Beel snapped from his reverie, explaining to you why it’s his most favoured, “It’s like your human food ‘cheeseburger’!”

You nodded and ordered the exact sandwich for him, much to his surprise.

It’s like a date! You inwardly screamed, mentally giving yourself a high-five for taking advantage of this sweet opportunity.

“Let’s split up the sandwich, as thank you for buying me food…”

How sweet! The thought made you want to curl up in the floor and cry in happiness, but resisted, “Come on, let me treat you once in a while!”

You both took a seat on the less conspicuous booths of the store. As Beel ate with glee, you chatted him up, content at the moment both of you were sharing.

“Why’d you *munch* even buy me food?”

“I like you!” You answered without a sliver of a doubt, carried too much at the connection you were sharing at the time. Blinking once… twice, you realized what you’ve done.

Well, fu–

“This food sure is great,” Beel avoided looking at you and continued eating, his face noticeably red from his blushing cheeks.

Groaning in defeat, you buried your face in your hands. It’d be rude to suddenly take back what you’ve said. Stupid me, stupid, stupid–

“I thought I’m hearing things because I’m still hungry.” The ginger-haired demon explained, his hands taking yours and peeling them off from your heated face, “You’re like this sandwich, you know that?”

“W-What…?”

“It’s my favourite, just as you’re my favourite person to be with!”

BELPHEGOR

You stared at Belphegor’s sleeping face, so peaceful and at ease.

It’s hard to think of him as a demon when he’s especially languid like this.

He had invited you to watch a movie that Levi suggested, only to doze off within fifteen minutes of the production, his head perfectly placed by your lap. Deciding that the Avatar of Sloth would rather sleep than watch, you let him sleep to his heart’s content.

The moment the movie ended, you didn’t notice that your lap had fallen asleep with him. Great.

You poked his cheek, seeing if he’ll wake up. “Belphie~” You cooed, “Belphie, wake up… My thighs has fallen asleep with you~”

“Fiv.. m’nutes…” He stirred, making himself much more comfortable on your lap and on the sofa.

“What am I gonna do with you?” You sighed in affection, smiling at his sleeping visage. Similar to Belphegor, you also made yourself comfortable on the sofa despite the stinging feeling by your thighs, “Alright, five more minutes, but only because I like you.”

To your surprise, Belphie spoke again, “Say that again.”

“I said you can have five more minutes, Belphie.”

“No, the second part…”

He heard that?!

You gulped, eyes avoiding his as you slowly repeated, “B-B… Because I like you.”

The raven-haired demon closed his eyes once, turning away from you, “I must be dreaming.” And within seconds, he has fallen asleep again just like that.

“No, Belphie, don’t sleep!” You stood up at his reaction to such an important confession, only to remember that he was formerly sleeping on your lap.

WHOOPS.

“Ow,” He rubbed his head after being unceremoniously thrown out of the sofa, sitting up groggily from all of the commotion, “Okay, so it’s not a dream.”

You sat beside him on the floor and rubbed his head as well, apologizing for it, “Why would think that, though?”

He looked away with a blush, “Because it’s too good to be true…”

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populus-tremuloides · 3 years

Note

Hey I noticed you linked the BLM website in a post but can you tell your followers not to donate to the organization

The donation link the website has is secure act blue and secure act blue funds democratic campaigns

So for the past 7 years all that money they collected over $1 billion probably none of that has touched the black community

Hoo boy so while I agree with the gist of this ask, there’s some misleading info here:

ActBlue is not giving BLM donations to the DNC, and this claim has been debunked multiple times by reliable sources. However, the BLM Global Network Foundation has faced questioning and controversy this year thanks to their nonprofit partnerships and a lack of transparency. I always advocate for donating as small-scale and locally as you can. I’ll put the rest of this analysis (with sources linked) under a read more, since it’s LONG (but it took me forever to put together so pls read thx ❤️).

ActBlue is an online fundraising platform that is not explicitly related to the US Democratic Party, but which only funds left-leaning and progressive candidates and organizations. It’s a tech company. It earns money by functioning as this service, so yes, your donations help fund it. Organizations and candidates pay ActBlue a 3.95% processing fee for donations, but the rest of the money donated does go to the organization or specific candidate. ActBlue is also registered as a PAC (political action committee) which is a whole can of Political Worms I don’t want to open, but that means it has to report to the Federal Election Commission/the IRS which is a positive because it results in transparency of conduit funding.

So...96.05% of the money you donate through the BLM website SHOULD go to the BLM Foundation. It does NOT go to the DNC. The person who started this rumor (from a since-deleted Facebook post which led to a viral video) is a member of a Students for Trump organization, and other conservative pundits picked up on it and posted it. It just isn’t true, and has been debunked many times.

HOWEVER there’s still a problem. It’s hard to say where the money donated to the BLM site actually goes, and that issue is directly related to tax laws and nonprofit organization status in the US. There were questions and lawsuits about this earlier this year. There is an interesting loophole in ActBlue’s policy that states that “contributions...which are not cashed or affirmatively refused will be kept by ActBlue and used generally to support its social welfare activities”. In other words, ActBlue will keep money that is not cashed by the organizations within 60 days and use it to “generally support its social welfare activities”. No, I don’t know exactly what that means--it’s probably used by ActBlue for program costs, or is reallocated to its general fund (which gives grants to nominee funds, the Flip the Senate campaign, etc) but it does mean that money doesn’t go to those organizations, even if it was donated to them, if the organizations don’t claim it. Then, in a Reddit AMA in June, a BLM Foundation organizer provided less than satisfying information about where the money they fundraise goes. It’s difficult to find that info online thanks to the way nonprofits function within American tax law.

It’s important to note here that the BLM Foundation and BLM Global Network are not necessarily associated with individual community activist organizations, protests, or the general BLM social movement. There’s plenty of discourse on this you can research on your own if you want. Google is free.

What’s important here is that the BLM Foundation operates as a nonprofit with a “parent” charity. From 2016 to this year BLM worked with Thousand Currents, which “fundraises grassroots groups led by women, youth and Indigenous Peoples”. In July they switched to a “working relationship” with TIDES, which is a “philanthropic partner and nonprofit accelerator dedicated to building a world of shared prosperity and social justice”.

I’m not going to get into my personal feelings about large scale nonprofit organizations and the oxymoron of conscious capitalism (because organizations like this are essentially venture capitalists for nonprofits imo), but personally I think the larger and more decentralized the organization (or parent organization, in this case), the less effective your donation. More on that later.

Essentially though, Thousand Currents and TIDES are organizations that focus on fundraising and infrastructure and then fund smaller grassroots groups that might not have the infrastructure or foothold to do that for themselves. This is not uncommon in the nonprofit world. I work for a nonprofit that ran though a university foundation and an established local nonprofit for ten years before we got our 501(c)(3) designation and started functioning independently. It’s not abnormal that the BLM Foundation works with an organization like that, given BLM is pretty decentralized by design and is also a fairly new organization (2013/2014).

Thousand Currents and TIDES have 501(c)(3) tax exempt status. It can be difficult for smaller and newer nonprofits (as well as nonprofits that function outside of the US but which rely on donations from the US or other countries outside of where they’re headquartered) to gain that status, so they often work under a larger organization. 501(c)(3) status means financial records have to be made public, which means anyone can access the financial records for Thousand Currents and TIDES. You can also find tax filings for the BLM Foundation, but it’s less comprehensive (the most recent I could find was Form 990 from 2017, but maybe I’m not looking in the right place). Anyone can request tax documents from 501(c)(3) nonprofits.

This is getting complicated, right? Welcome to American tax law and nonprofit organizational hierarchies functioning under late stage capitalism. i’m not trying to throw the BLM Foundation under the bus here, because honestly this is just how it goes with a lot of organizations in the US. I don’t think it means you shouldn’t support them. But it gets pretty twisted up. Maybe you made a $20 donation to BLM back in July and now you’re wondering where the hell it went. Here’s the pipeline: your donation goes through ActBlue (which takes 3.95%, or .79 cents of your donation) to TIDES, which then directs that money to BLM. They know how much money is coming to them for BLM because ActBlue differentiates fundraising campaigns--the BLM money going to Thousand Currents or TIDES is separated from the funds coming to them for, say, CLIMA or the Farm to School Network . However, Thousand Currents and TIDES probably take a cut to support their operating costs, too. I couldn’t find data on this, so this is conjecture and I’m not sure how much--this statement is just based on knowing how nonprofits and fundraising usually work.

So, the money stream from you to BLM is like this: You------> ActBlue (takes a 3.95% cut) ------> Thousand Currents or TIDES (probably takes a cut, then directs the money to)------> BLM -----> Whatever BLM uses it for. Despite that strange loophole in ActBlue’s policy, Thousand Currents appeared to be claiming the donations and directing them to BLM (as of 2018...will be interesting to see tax stats from this year since their move to TIDES after unprecedented donations).

BLM does have a huge grassroots organizing fund that began this June in response to overwhelming donations following the murder of George Floyd. The fund provides grants up to $500,000 to smaller grassroots organizations and activists, as well as educational curriculum and political platforms. Their grant campaign is supported by TIDES, which provides the infrastructure and tax-exempt funding conduit needed for such a large scale effort. I’m guessing most of the money they’re fundraising goes to that fund. A chunk definitely goes to paying employees, running their website, and funding outreach and education.

So ALL THAT BEING SAID, I would always say donate directly to bail funds, mutual aid funds, legal fee funds, and local activism organizations before donating to a larger, all-encompassing charity or organization. If you can Venmo someone you know and you know where that money goes, that’s always the best.

Venmo accounts, gofundme campaigns, cashapp accounts, paypal accounts...that’s often what smaller scale organizations and activists are using on a local level and it’s generally collected and distributed more directly. The BIPOC and COVID mutual aid funds where I live are active on Facebook and Instagram and operate based on requests for help from community members that are posted on Google documents available to the public. Here is a good example of a grassroots COVID mutual aid fund that is directing A LOT of money locally and transparently--there are similar funds and organizations like this worldwide for COVID, BLM, and beyond.

The biggest impact you can make always comes at the community level--you should do some research into figuring out what’s going on in your area. There’s almost always something nearby, even if you live in a rural area or smaller town like I do, and if there’s not, hey--you could start something! Engage in your community and put your money into that, or into other communities in need. Pay attention to stuff going around on Twitter and Instagram--a lot of community organizing is facilitated there.

I included the BLM link in the original post because the website is a good place to learn about actions around the globe, organizing basics, and has a lot of up to date news and educational materials. I advocated for donating to bail funds, mutual aid funds, water projects, and local activist organizations and I stand by that. I’m not saying you shouldn’t donate to the BLM Global Network or other larger-scale foundations, but the conduit of money to cause is usually not as direct. I still don’t think it’s a bad thing to donate to them.

But ALSO don’t spread straight-up misinformation like this ask does. ActBlue is a fundraising platform and it’s not stealing the money you send to BLM and giving it to Biden or the DNC. It’s a whole lot more complicated than that, and this is a great way to dissuade people from donating money to progressive organizations who use ActBlue because it’s an easy, accessible online fundraising platform. Funny how right-wing pundits latched onto this so quickly, huh?

Feel free to correct me or add more info. I’m white and operating within US-centric organizing circles. But PLEASE give some sources if you do have corrections or arguments and PLEASE do a google search before you spread stuff like this.

_______________________________________________________________________

TL;DR: ActBlue is a fundraising platform, it is not stealing your money and giving it to the DNC. The money you donate to BLM goes to that organization, though it is a meandering path from donation to impact. Donate to bail funds, mutual aid organizations, legal fee funds, local activism organizations, etc., over larger organizations. Invest in your own communities, and directly in black communities, and always do your research.

#us bs #BLM #mutual aid #activism #american politics #fundraising #donations #i really hope people read this i spent so long trying to write it out in a way that made sense and its so fucking long #but i rly want people to understand a) how nonprofit fundraising works because its fucked #and b) that the shit about actblue is total bs #and c) that mutual aid funds are the future #also #i hate this country #and i hate that i know this much about nonprofit tax law when fundamentally i do not believe that nonprofits are doing that much good #but that's the hellscape we live in folks #black lives matter #politics #answered asks #okay goodniGHT

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harderbetterfasterstarker · 3 years

Text

not starker, but why the hell not. i recently finished this endhawks fic, and endhawks is a ship that i feel like hits a lot of the same buttons for me as starker does, so if you’re interested, check out the first two chapters below, and the rest is on ao3 here.

Local Teen schemes to shame father, accidentally gets him a boyfriend instead.

Enji watched carefully now, took in the way that Hawks and Shouto were tucked into a corner of the room. Enji couldn’t see his face clearly, just the edge of his profile, but it was enough to see that the sharp grin that had fallen from his face while he listened to Shouto was replaced now by a soft smile. Whatever he said brought a similar expression to Shouto’s face. Without understanding why, Enji looked away, struck with a sudden pang of emotion, too much all at once, and at first it registered as anger—always anger—but he wasn’t that kind of man anymore, so after a long moment clenching his hands, the tight hot knot of anger loosened, fell into separate threads of—sadness (I’ve never seen Shouto smile like that before, never), jealousy (why Hawks? what did he do to make you smile? why are you sharing this moment?), pride (because I’m glad it’s Hawks, you are both such good heroes, such good men), and, right there at the center of the knot, anger (at himself, always at himself, for not deserving these moments).

It had been a long meeting, at the end of a long week, but, after all they’d been through, there was something comforting about even the mildly overwhelming roar of so many heroes’ discordant chatter. Ostensibly, the purpose of these meetings was to facilitate information sharing, but Enji knew that they were as much about the reassurance of each other’s presence as anything else. They’d lost enough that it was still a relief to hear Fatgum’s loud laughter, Mirko’s booming voice as she retold the story of some villain capture. One voice he kept waiting to hear and didn’t—and Enji found himself turning to scan the room, until his eyes found bright red wings, and he could let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. It wasn’t that he didn’t know that Hawks was fine, but there was something about seeing those wings flutter and shift, the slope of his jaw as his mouth edged into a grin as he said something to make Shouto laugh—

Shouto?

Enji watched carefully now, took in the way that Hawks and Shouto were tucked into a corner of the room. Not out of sight, obviously, but far enough away that their conversation obviously read as private. After the laughter ended, Shouto said something else to Hawks, his face falling back into that tight little frown that he seemed to wear most of the time. Hawks listened for a while—actually listened, which was a shock in and of itself, that he wasn’t interrupting to bug and nag like he constantly did to Enji, which much mean this was something serious—and then was reaching out to rest a hand on Shouto’s shoulder. Enji couldn’t see his face clearly, just the edge of his profile, but it was enough to see that the sharp grin that had fallen from his face while he listened to Shouto was replaced now by a soft smile. Whatever he said brought a similar expression to Shouto’s face. Without understanding why, Enji looked away, struck with a sudden pang of emotion, too much all at once, and at first it registered as anger—always anger—but he wasn’t that kind of man anymore, so after a long moment clenching his hands, the tight hot knot of anger loosened, fell into separate threads of—sadness (I’ve never seen Shoto smile like that before, never), jealousy (why Hawks? what did he do to make you smile? why are you sharing this moment?), pride (because I’m glad it’s Hawks, you are both such good heroes, such good men), and, right there at the center of the knot, anger (at himself, always at himself, for not deserving these moments).

“Endeavor-san?” Enji turned around to see the Midoriya kid looking up at him with those huge green eyes, holding one of those notebooks of his, and turned his attention to answering the kid’s question.

“Shouto.”

They were on their way out of the agency, Bakugo and Midoriya arguing over something just a few yards ahead, so Endeavor kept his voice low. The only indication that Shouto had heard him was a slight tension to his shoulders and a muttered ‘what’ so low that Enji almost didn’t hear it.

“What were you talking to Hawks about today? After the hero meeting?”

If anything, Shouto got tenser, his shoulders creeping higher.

“Nothing.”

“Is it something about hero work? Because Hawks is undoubtedly a good hero, but I could help with any questions you have.”

“Drop it, it’s nothing.” Shouto’s voice had edged out of his normal monotone and into a dangerous level of flatness, one that Enji was beginning to learn to heed, so he stayed silent and let Shouto catch up with Midoriya and Bakugo and slot in-between them to play peacemaker.

A week later, Hawks climbed through his office window while he was doing paperwork.

“Hawks.” He was trying for stern, but since everything at Jaku, Enji had had a hard time being stern with Hawks.

“Hey big guy! I know, I know—doors, not windows, but, c’mon, you’ve ridden in your elevator. Long wait, crowded, bo-ring. Why ride when you can fly?” Hawks was crossing the room to lean on an edge of his desk, while he let one of his feathers shut the window behind him.

“What are you doing here?”

“I just happened to be in the neighborhood, decided to drop in, check in, you know—the usual.” At that moment, Enji heard the distinct sound of a stomach growling, and turned to glare at Hawks.

“Really?”

“I mean maybe I forgot to eat lunch, but you know how busy heroing is! That’s not why I dropped by—or at least, not the only reason. I like you for more than your wallet, Endeavor-san.” Hawks was laughing, but his feathers were ruffling in a distinctly nervous way and he was running a hand through his hair. Enji sighed, and shoved his paperwork to the side.

“I’m too busy to go out anywhere—behind on paperwork after that minor gang bust earlier this week. We’ll go to the cafeteria.”

Hawks kept up his inane chatter as they walked through the halls down to the agency cafeteria on the second floor of his building, through the line for food, and all the way to the table, where Enji noticed that, as soon as they sat down, Hawks’ left wing slumped slightly, at an awkward angle.

“Hawks,” he said, interrupting the younger hero mid-sentence halfway through some kind of story about one of Mirko’s sidekicks’ birthday. “How did you get here?”

“Well, you see, when a mama bird loves a daddy bird—”

“You flew, didn’t you?” The sudden tightness in Hawks’ jaw and the bob his throat as he swallowed gave him away. “Hawks—you’re not supposed to be straining your wings or the new muscle in your back like that.”

“Number one, I didn’t know you cared!” Hawks was laughing cheekily, but avoided making eye contact.

“If you strain the muscle, you could do permanent damage. It’s a hero’s job to take care of themselves, Hawks.” He listened to Hawks’ half-hearted apologies and promises, making a mental note to keep a closer eye on the man, and noticed Shouto’s eyes on them from across the cafeteria.

“Was it about starting your own agency?”

“Was what—my conversation with Hawks? I told you to drop it.”

They were walking towards the UA dorms together—Shouto insisted that the students didn’t need to be walked to the door like children, but, thankfully, Eraserhead agreed with Enji that no matter how much the kids had proved themselves in battle, unnecessary risks remained unnecessary.

“Because while I hope you know that I would be happy for you to take over the agency some day, it’s fine if you want to start your own. Admirable, even. I could tell you about the early days of the agency. When I inherited it from your grandfather, it wasn’t—it was essentially starting anew. I could—”

“It wasn’t about starting my own agency.” Shouto had quickened his pace, and they were at the door to the dorms now.

“Well, then, was it—”

Shouto had shut the door in his face.

Enji knew he should drop it. He’d heard enough from his therapist about respecting boundaries, especially the fragile ones his children were trying to draw as they struggled their way towards healthy relationships with their father. But he couldn’t stop thinking about the look on Shouto’s face, that soft little smile—the trust in it, the comfort in it—and the twist of jealousy in his gut when he thought about that smile directed at him. He just wanted to show Shouto that if he would just let Enji in, he could be worth that smile too.

They were washing up after family dinner on a Thursday, the only two left in the estate. Fuyumi and Natsuo had already left to go back to the home they shared with Rei, and Enji would drive Shouto back to the UA dorms soon. Even silently washing dishes, Shouto’s mouth was drawn into a tiny little frown, and Enji couldn’t help but picture that smile.

“Was it about—”

“Seriously? It wasn’t even hero stuff, it was about guy stuff, okay?” Shouto dropped the plate he’d been holding, and Enji winced as he watched it chip against the counter.

“Guy stuff? Shouto, I’m a—”

“Not about being a guy. About being… into guys.”

There was a long, hesitant pause between them. Enji’s mind was flickering between stunned silence and deafening moments of too many thoughts, too much input.

“Because, you know, Hawks and Mirko are the only out heroes in the top ten.”

One thought floated to the top of Enji’s brain, and he couldn’t begin to (refused to) guess at why it was the first thought that came out.

“Hawks is gay?”

“I—Are you kidding?” One of the parts of Enji’s brain that was still working noted a lick of flame flickering across Shouto’s cheek. “I come out to you and that’s the first thing you have to say? You’re not surprised I’m gay?”

This—this he knew the answer to, though his mouth was still moving faster than his brain, and his therapist had warned him about speaking without thinking about thinking through the consequences first, but the last thing he’d said was Hawks is gay and the realization was still ringing in his brain when this should be about Shouto.

“Shouto. When you were six you informed me you were going to marry All Might.”

“And you told me to shut up with that disgusting nonsense!”

“Of course I did—you weren’t going to marry All Might!”

“Oh my—so you’re seriously trying to tell me you weren’t homophobic, that this was just about your stupid hatred of All Might?”

“Of course I’m not homophobic, I—” Enji could feel the temperature rising on both sides of the sink, could see more flames licking across Shouto’s face, uncontrolled, and he stopped himself. Took a long, deep breath the way that he’d practiced, let his mind clear into nothingness and then let himself feel each emotion, let each unnecessary thought drift away until he could find the words he wanted to say, the ones he meant to say.

“Shouto. I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like you had to hide this part of yourself from me. Who you love will not stop me from being proud of you. I understand why you didn’t want to tell me or talk to me about this, and I’m glad Hawks is someone you feel comfortable speaking about this with.”

Shouto looked frozen, eyes wide open, as Enji slowly turned to continue doing the dishes. Silence reigned until they were sitting in the car on the way back to UA, when Shouto finally muttered, eyes fixed firmly out the window—

“Thanks, Dad.”

The next day at the weekly hero meeting, Enji couldn’t help but notice Hawks more than usual. He’d never bothered learning any personal information about his fellow heroes—irrelevant—and he told himself that it remained irrelevant. It shouldn’t change the way that he saw Hawks at all.

He watched Hawks stretch his wings behind himself, laughing at something Mirko said.

Nothing should change.

He watched Hawks take a seat next to his intern, the one from Shouto’s class, leaning over to mutter something to the stoic teen that made a hint of a smile break out on his face.

Nothing should change.

From across the room, Shouto’s eyes on him caught his attention. Shouto looked away before they made eye contact and turned to Bakugo, saying something that started more of Bakugo’s infernal yelling.

Nothing had changed.

It wasn’t even a week later that Hawks was at his office door again.

“I used the elevator this time. Aren’t you proud of me, number one?” He looked pleased with himself, and a little more put together than the last time Enji had seen him. His wings looked good—fuller than before, no drooping. He could never say that out loud, though, because even Enji had the emotional wherewithal to realize that Hawks hated to be pitied, for anyone to act like Hawks should be anything other than his absolute best, so his brain just skipped ahead to—

“Why are you here?”

At that, something in Hawks’ bright grin faltered, and something somewhere in Enji’s gut fell painfully in response. He’d been trying to be—not nicer, per se, but… better. Not for everyone, but at least for the people who mattered. For his family. For Shouto’s friends. Inexplicably, for Hawks. He’s told himself that he owes Hawks, is all. Hawks’ injuries were his fault (Hawks’ beautiful red wings, another casualty burned up in Endeavor’s flames).

“For lunch. You… invited me?”

Hawks’s tone fell just short of his usual carefree air, and Enji blinked, momentarily stunned by the realization that Hawks actually wasn’t just doing his usual teasing. “I didn’t.”

“I did,” another voice echoed from the hallway outside his office, and Enji’s attention shifted to see Shouto, his friends hovering behind him awkwardly, mismatched eyes meeting Enji’s gaze with a challenging stare. “Is that a problem?”

And—oh. “Of course it’s not a problem,” Enji replied, keeping his eyes on Shouto’s, ignoring the urge to examine the nervous fluttering of Hawks’ wings he could see in his peripheral vision. “I’ll just—uh, see you all later.”

“The reservation is for five,” Shouto said, turning around and heading towards the elevator. “Might as well come too, old man.”

Shouto said nothing further on the subject as the motley group made their way out of the agency and through streets teeming with the midday lunch rush. Shouto said nothing further on any subject, actually, keeping his usual silence. Between Midoriya, frantically quizzing Hawks on his latest villain takedown while scribbling notes in that damn notebook of his, and Hawks, answering good-naturedly and dealing with any civilian interest in the group, the walk passed with as little awkwardness as could be expected. Enji had never thought he’d be grateful for Midoriya’s incessant chatter, but he supposed there was a first time for everything. And, when he was honest with himself, the kid wasn’t that bad; even before Shigaraki, Enji had found himself almost fond of him, if only because he was such a good friend to Shouto. He looked between the babbling boy and Shouto, spying Shouto huffing a short laugh at something Midoriya was saying. Maybe they—should he tell Shouto that he would approve? Of Midoriya? No, Shouto wouldn’t care for his approval, right? Unless… Shouto had, actually, in the end, been nervous about telling Enji about his sexuality, had thought that Enji had disapproved. But would saying he would approve of Midoriya imply that there were choices that Enji would disapprove of? And while that wasn’t necessarily wrong—Enji’s eyes lingered on Bakugo, who was currently yelling at a passerby who’d had the misfortune of being saved from stepping into traffic by the angry teen—for Shouto, Enji would put those feelings aside.

They’d made it the restaurant and were sitting down, and Enji still didn’t know what, if anything, to say to Shouto. Enji never knew what to say to Shouto. He’d spent his whole life working from the scripts of his father, and his grandfather before him, only to realize that they were—that he was a failure, as a hero, and as a father, and to start all over at square one, half his life spent walking down the wrong path. He kept trying to be better, but even still, he knew that more than half the time he said or did the wrong thing—voice too loud, tone too harsh, Shouto’s shoulders flinching imperceptibly or his stare going just that bit more icy. And now there were more landmines for him to desperately try to avoid.

Caught in his own thoughts, he didn’t notice the attention of several sets of eyes on him until he felt one of Hawks’ feathers nudging at his back.

“Sorry, Shouto-kun, didn’t quite catch that,” Hawks said breezily, and Enji glanced over at the grinning hero and wished that he was the kind of person who knew how to express his gratitude in some kind of simple, subtle way. But he didn’t have Hawks’ feathers—all his fire could do was burn.

“I asked if you knew of any gay bars.” Shouto’s stare shifted to Enji, though his tone didn’t change at all. “I decided I’d like to go to one.”

Blessedly, everything was silent for a long moment, while Enji tried to force his brain to think of—if not the right response, any alright response. He instinctively knew that this was a test, of sorts, a public challenge from Shouto, and one he couldn’t afford to mess up—not just in front of Shouto, but in front of Midoriya, bright red and eyes wider than Enji had ever seen them, Bakugo, snorting and rolling his eyes, and in front of Hawks—Hawks who was looking up at him with real surprise in his golden eyes and a light flush across his cheeks, Hawks who had been his biggest fan, Hawks who had looked up to him as a hero since he was a kid, Hawks who was gay.

But time was running out, the moment was stretching too long, and so Enji just sighed and said, “No drinking until you’re 20.”

Bakugo let out a short bark of laughter, though Enji breathed easier when Shouto scowled, as if the laughter was at his expense and not at Enji’s. He cast a half-glance over at Hawks to find that even though the flush on his face had deepened, he was looking back at Enji with a smile, big and bright like he’d done that first time they’d had lunch in Fukuoka. Fuck, Enji needed to thank Hawks. He couldn’t say anything in front of Shouto, it would embarrass him, and it wasn’t like Enji was any good at putting together the right words, anyway, but—

Because Enji was staring right at Hawks, he noticed the sudden tension in the younger man’s body and the shiver that rippled through his wings a half-second before he registered the vibrations of the ground beneath them and the beginning sounds of screams, so he was only a step behind the winged hero on their way out the door, listening to the interns tripping over themselves to follow them.

Now wasn’t the time, but later—he’d thank Hawks later.

Later didn’t come the next time Enji saw Hawks, or the time after that, or even the time after that. Enji was used to Hawks dropping by his office once every couple of weeks, if that, seeing him at top hero meetings, maybe an occasional phone call on a tip or lead one of them had. But somehow, Shouto had figured out that Hawks was working on a long-term case and staying nearby, and so the awkward lunches had become a weekly event, and then twice weekly. Not that Enji had an issue with Hawks’ more frequent presence, but all the moments that he used to get with Hawks bled into their lunches, he didn’t dare say anything to Hawks with Shouto around—he still got the sense that Shouto was assessing him somehow—and he didn’t know how to get a moment with Hawks alone. He could say something, but the words never quite came right to his brain, he always felt half-tripped up, and so he just… left, ignoring the feeling of Hawks’ eyes on him.

And then there were the times Enji was glad Hawks wasn’t around.

The agency was oddly quiet, for once, and Enji walked down to the cafeteria to see a group of his sidekicks huddled around a table with their heads bent low, the interns too, mumbling and passing something back and forth. Shouto glanced up when he heard Enji come in, and Enji saw a shadow of something like amusement pass across Shouto’s face, but before he could really identify what it was, his expression was back to its usual placidity.

“Why don’t we get the opinion of the number one hero himself?” Shouto said, just loudly enough for his voice to carry across the room to Enji’s ears. He started heading for the table, curiosity bleeding into his irritation at his staff for whatever distraction they were entertaining, growing stronger as Burnin herself looked up from whatever was on the table, her normally grinning face horrified and as red as Enji’s flames.

“What is this,” Enji said, staring down at whatever Burnin was trying to half-cover with her body.

“We were just looking at Hawks’ latest advertising campaign. What do you think, old man?” Shouto’s voice had that challenging tone again, as he pulled what turned out to be a magazine from Burnin’s desperate grip and handed it to Enji.

It took all of Enji’s hard-won control to keep the flames on his face from flaring out dangerously as he looked at the image in front of him, but he did note that several of his sidekicks winced at the sudden temperature increase he couldn’t help. Because Hawks’ face was staring up at him from the page, looking over his shoulder from between red wings spread proudly, his usual playful expression suddenly intense, body posed in such a way that he looked half a second from taking off, perched on a boulder in nothing but a pair of too-tight swim trunks. After he’d torn his eyes away from picture-Hawks’ piercing stare, his attention caught on the line of Hawks’ back—a long, lithe line, rippling with the muscle Enji knew Hawks had worked painstakingly to build back up so he could fly again, and—absolutely covered in burn scars, skin mottled and warped, jarring differences where the grafts had been, and Enji couldn’t stop himself from bringing his thumb up across the page to trace the skin. The text, advertising—cologne? who knew?—read “fly free”.

Someone coughed, and Enji realized he’d been looking at the picture for too long. He fought the urge to flare up in embarrassment again, and instead cleared his throat. They’d asked for his opinion?

“Being a hero means being a public figure, which means getting asked to do endorsements and advertising like this frequently. How to handle it depends on the type of image you have and want to project as a hero—endorsements that seem genuine and are well-received from heroes like Fat Gum or Mt. Lady would seem awkward or insincere from a hero like Eraserhead or Nighteye.”

Midoriya had reached into his backpack to get his notebook, but Shouto shot an impatient glare at the magazine in Enji’s hand.

“That’s why I don’t do these kind of things often—not because I disapprove of them categorically, but because they don’t fit with my image. The hardest thing to balance with endorsements and advertisements is how to appear in them while still maintaining enough an appearance of strength that people feel they can count on you as a hero in times of crisis. Hawks is the current hero who achieves that balance best.”

Enji noticed, with some small satisfaction, several jaws dropping around the table. He didn’t often praise others, but what he was saying was true—he’d known it from the first time he’d patrolled with Hawks, that the younger man could pull off a public image that simultaneously led people to both genuinely like him as a person and genuinely trust in him as a hero. It wasn’t until after Jaku that he’d realized just how much of a well-orchestrated facade it had all been, but it just made Enji admire the man more—that Hawks knew what it meant to struggle for the success.

“And the best heroes can make these opportunities work for them. Hawks’ injuries after his—after the—” Enji stumbled slightly, thinking of Touya’s face twisted in maniacal glee, “after last year are public knowledge, to a degree. By taking an opportunity like this, he ends the quiet speculation about them while still showing them from a position of strength. And the product tagline might as well be a hero slogan here—not only emphasizing the strength in flying, but the freedom of showing the scars.”

Midoriya was writing so quickly Enji thought he could hear the pencil ripping through paper, and Shouto was looking up at him with a dumbfounded expression on his face. None of them knew he was essentially paraphrasing a conversation he’d had with his PR agent long ago, on whether to attempt reconstructive surgery to reduce the appearance of the scar on his face after the battle with the High End, but the point had been the same both times. He’s glad Hawks got the chance to make this point, to show his strength for the whole of Japan to see, because—Enji glanced back down at the magazine in his hand, the glossy sheen of the paper over the gnarled lines of the scars, and realized his thumb was running over the proud angle of Hawks’ back again.

He tossed the magazine back onto the table, where it landed with a smack that seemed too loud for the suddenly quiet room.

“Now get back to work, all of you.”

The next week, Shouto came to Enji’s office of his own volition for the first time since he’d started at the agency. Enji dropped his paperwork immediately.

“Shouto.”

“… Endeavor,” Shouto returned, and Enji tried not to let the missing ‘Dad’ bother him. It was enough that Shouto was here—speaking to him, learning from him, tolerating him. He didn’t deserve to ask for more. So he just nodded, waited while Shouto realized that Enji wasn’t going to say anything about the form of address.

“What you said about Hawks’ ad campaign…” Something twisted in Shouto’s expression, and Enji startled to realize that he looked almost… sad, or guilty, just for a moment. “It’s not something we’ve talked about a lot in school yet. I know some of the other students at their internships and work studies have gone along to things like that, and I wanted to…” Shouto trailed off, just the hint of a blush on his cheeks, embarrassed at having to ask, and Enji understood.

“Of course. I don’t often do those, but I could find another hero for you to shadow to—”

“No,” Shouto interrupted, all traces of his blush gone. “I mean—I’d like to see how you handle it.”

And Enji hadn’t done any kind of advertising campaign in at least ten years, but—Shouto cared about how he would handle it, as a hero. Shouto wanted to learn from him, and not anyone else.

“I’ll talk to my secretary and try to get something set up.”

In lieu of a response, Shouto just nodded and turned to head for the door. After hesitating for a moment longer, watching his son’s back with a mix of hope and pride and guilt, Enji finally reached for the paperwork he’d set down when Shouto first walked in.

“Thanks,” Shouto suddenly said, stopping on the threshold and looking back over his shoulder at Enji. In the moment before the door shut between them, Enji thought he could see a hint of that same guilt he’d seen before, when he’d mentioned what Enji had said about Hawks. But then the door closed, the expression was gone, and Enji was left to chalk it up to underlying guilt about Touya—something Enji was painfully familiar with—and let it go.

#not starker but #endhawks #fanfic

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