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bvidzsoo · 12 days

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Love Me Like A Rockstar (8)

Chapter 8: Own My Mind

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

Warning: cursing

Word count: 8.3k

Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au

Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hello, lovelies! I'm back with a new chapter and let me tell you, ever since I've started writing this there's been little changes to the plot here and there, but...we should all thank Song Mingi for the way he's been acting this weekend for bringing a major change to it (i wanna kms ha-ha *dies in pain*) Anyways, I have a love-hate relationship with that man right now, don't mind my dramatic ass. Please listen to Maneskin's Own My Mind before or while reading this chapter, just the usual! If you want to be added to this story's taglist, just leave a comment on this post and you'll be added! Also, the drawing our girlie is talking about that is on her bed (later in this chp.), is absolutely waterbomb Mingi and it's a call-back to chp. 4 hehet. I have a surprise at the end of this chapter lol. One last question and then I'm going, should I do a Q&A surrounding this story? Like, if you have any curiosities about it, you can send in an ask and I'll gladly answer it! ^^ I hope you'll enjoy this part and, as always, let me know your thoughts about it!

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @sharksandminhos

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

I shivered as I hurriedly shrugged off my jacket, backpack discarded the second I stepped inside my warm home, the loud thunder cut short as Mingi quickly closed the front door behind himself, hissing and groaning. I turned my head to watch him struggle out of his worn-out jacket as I stepped out of my shoes, hardly believing that from just a few minutes out in the rain, even my socks got soaked. Mingi’s head shook as his body trembled, and I couldn’t help but chuckle as I watched him. He looked quite hilarious with his black hair sticking to his forehead, glasses so wet he couldn’t see through them anymore, loose clothing now sticking to his lean body like a second skin.

“What’s so funny?” Mingi playfully furrowed his eyebrows as he took his specks off, shaking the water off the glass, as wiping it against his already wet clothes wouldn’t have helped him in ridding his glasses of water.

“You.” I mumbled with a chuckle as I peeled my cardigan off, skin covered in goosebumps as my damp skin was exposed to the chilly air in the hallway. Mingi rolled his eyes, and placed his glasses back on as I took off towards the wardrobe by the stairs, chewing on my bottom lip. Mingi would have to change out of his wet clothes, unless we wanted him to catch a cold. I couldn’t leave him standing there like that, shivering and sniffing as he already sneezed loudly. His apology was sheepish, but I just flashed him a small smile before opening the heavy door of the wardrobe. There were minimal chances that the box I was looking for was still inside the wardrobe, considering the fact that my mother would go on a cleaning frenzy every month and throw out almost everything inside the house that she deemed unusable anymore. Therefore, there were almost one to zero chances that the box I so vividly remember having placed here ages ago, was still in its spot.

“Uh, do you think I could use the bathroom real fast?” Mingi asked, voice sounding unsure as I kneeled down in front of the wardrobe, eyebrows furrowing when I didn’t spot the box right away.

“One second, let me find something.” I called out, leaning forward as I pushed my mother’s long coats hanging in my face out of the way, and disappeared further into the wardrobe as I pushed and pulled at the thick blankets she kept in there. I thought about giving up for a second, about her having thrown out the contents of the box I was searching for, but I gasped when I felt the sturdy cartoon underneath my fingertips. With a triumphant smile, I pulled on it, a few scarfs and my very old Hello Kitty beanie falling out in the process. The box felt heavier than I remembered it to be, and my heart settled knowing that my mother didn’t throw it out. But that didn’t mean it didn’t start beating wildly once I sat back on my heels, box placed in front of me. A chill ran down my spine, and I knew right now that it wasn’t because of the chilly air and my damp skin. Whatever still remained inside this box…is what I never had the strength to throw out, to fully get rid of every memory lingering of Yunho. I gulped, chewing on my bottom lip as I hesitated opening it up. But there was another loud sneeze, and as I briefly glanced at Mingi, I couldn’t help but notice the light red tinge on his cheeks as he typed away on his phone, completely soaked. I really had no other choice but to open up the box of pandora.

And a lump formed in my throat when I finally opened it, a stale scent hitting my nose. My eyebrows furrowed when a golden butterfly necklace sat on top of everything, a harsh reminder of all the gifts Yunho would buy for me during our relationship. I have thrown out all the gifts, except this one. It was expensive, and frankly, too beautiful to be thrown out or gifted to anyone else. Gulping, I pushed the necklace aside and sighed as I dug around the box, jaw clenching at the three sketchbooks getting in my way. They were filled with drawings of Yunho and myself, of all the places we’ve been to, of all the places I have wished to visit with Yunho. Of all the memories we have once made, and of all the memories I wished we could’ve made. Being an artist was amazing, but at certain times it was a nightmare in disguise, brain able to conjure such vivid images that never happened, that it could fool me into thinking that they have actually happened. I sighed quietly as I felt eyes on me, and finally found what I was searching for. A fuzzy and faded knitted sweater, a plethora of colors mixed together, from beige to a light purple, black and silver in the mix too. I pulled it out of the box, together with the grey sweatpants, and cleared my throat as I stood, hands burning the longer I held the clothing in my hands. I felt guilty, almost disgusting as I neared Mingi again, trying to avoid his eyes as he had an easy look on his face, smiling despite continuously sniffing.

“These are the only male clothing we have in the house,” I said as I reached my hands out, looking at Mingi’s chest rather than eyes, “hopefully they’ll fit you.”

“And if they won’t, you can always give me one of your colorful fuzzy cardigans.” Mingi’s tone was playful and I chuckled, giving him a playful glare. Those cardigans would never fit his broad shoulders. The tightness was gone from my chest as Mingi took the clothes from my grasp, a thankful look on his face. The guilt remained, but it wasn’t so pressing anymore.

“You can change in the bathroom downstairs,” I pointed towards the closed door across from the wardrobe, “towels are in the cabinet above the toilet. Do you need a hairdryer?”

Mingi shook his head with a smile and gave my soaked hair a light tap, “Thank you, Y/N.”

The way he seemed to linger on my name sent my heart into a dumb frenzy, and I found myself flustered beyond, emotion so foreign I forgot how to speak for a second. And Mingi didn’t miss it, fuck, because he walked away with a smug smile towards the bathroom and paused in the doorway for dramatic effect, before disappearing with a damn wink. I huffed, glaring daggers at the closed door as I scurried to shove everything fallen out back inside the wardrobe, closing its door rather harshly. I licked my chapped lips and raced up the stairs, throwing the door to my room open and taking a second to take in its state. My desk was messy, but that’s just how it always was, I couldn’t do much about it right now. I opened the blackout curtains, however, the weather already gloomy enough to cast shadows inside my dark room. I flinched as another thunder rumbled through the sky, and grabbed the first clothes I found in my closet, walking to the bathroom upstairs.

After having changed into wide legged leggings that had cotton on the inside, I quickly threw on a white tank top and a soft pink mock neck sweater, sighing in content as warmth finally enveloped my body after I have dried up the dampness on it with a towel. I skipped down the stairs as I had a towel around my head, messily towel drying my hair, completely missing the tall form standing at the foot of the stairs as I stumbled into him. I yelped, but Mingi quickly steadied me by the elbows. Before I had the chance to pull the towel off my head, two large hands grabbed at it and started softly rubbing the towel against my wet hair. I froze, everything inside me stopping as even my breath stilled, eyes wide open. Mingi said nothing as he continued with his actions, quietly humming to himself. I was afraid he’d be able to hear my loud heartbeat as I breathed through my mouth, lips parting as I struggled to calm down. I was thankful for the towel hiding my face, because I could feel the blush spreading down from my cheeks to my ears, and even neck. I couldn’t remember a time when I have blushed this hard, and it made me feel slightly disoriented. For God’s sake, Mingi was simply towel drying my hair for me, why was I having such a visceral reaction to it?! My mind seemed to be screaming at me, but I was too busy trying to regulate my breathing, doing so quietly, as Mingi’s hands became a little rougher, almost pulling on specific strands of hair. My eyes narrowed as he turned my head left to right to his likes, and I groaned as his fingers dug into my scalp.

“Hey, stop it!” I whined and slapped at his hand, making Mingi chuckle as he ruffled my hair to the point I had strands from the back falling into my eyes.

“Oh, good,” He was still chuckling, “for a second there I thought you had fallen asleep with how quiet you were.”

Despite not being able to see his face, or anything if I looked ahead, I could still peek down and see his feet. I was standing on the last step of the stairs, and with an evil grin, I jumped down, his naked toes falling victims to my attack. Mingi yelped loudly, and I cackled as I pulled the towel off my face, smiling at him smugly.

“Serves you right since my hair is all knotted up thanks to you.” I raised my eyebrows at him as Mingi had his right leg raised, massaging his toes with a pained expression.

“So you break my toes?!” He exclaimed, his deep tone a few octaves higher, making me snicker to myself as I threw the towel at him, making him yelp and look at me with an appalled expression on his face.

“Stop being a baby,” I stuck my tongue out at him as I walked towards the front door to lock it before I went inside the kitchen, “And wear some slippers before you come to the kitchen.”

Mingi was closely following behind me, ignoring my words, “What, one of your dwarf slippers? It’s either my toes or heels will be dangling off.”

The image was funny in my head, but I ignored it in order to throw him a scrutinizing look, “The tiles are cold in here, you’ll catch a cold.”

A wide smile spread on Mingi’s lips as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest, biceps bulging underneath the tight fabric of the sweater, “You’re so cute when you worry about me, doll.”

There goes the pleasant exchange we’ve been having up until now. My voice became devoid of any expression besides the glare I threw at him, mirroring him as I crossed my arms in front of my chest, “I’m not cute. I’m merely saying you’ll probably catch a cold since we’ve been out in the rain not even fifteen minutes ago. And since you’re a singer you should be taking a lot more care of yourself.”

Mingi remained silent for a few seconds, until I watched a light hue tinge his cheeks. Was he blushing because I was lecturing him? Just what in the hell?!

“You’re right, sorry.” Mingi mumbled, but showed no intentions of actually following through with my words as he walked further inside the room, sitting at the table, feet up on the chair as he hugged his long legs to his chest. For such a tall and broad man, he looked extremely tiny sitting on that chair right now.

“Uh,” A little confused by the turn of events, I looked around the kitchen, trying to remember the initial purpose of me coming here, “Right. You don’t like tea, so we have coffee or hot chocolate to warm us up, which one would you like?”

Mingi’s eyes lingered on me for a second too long, taking in my whole being before his eyes settled on my face again, a smile so genuine settling on his lips that his eyes were sparkling, “Hot chocolate is fine.”

I hummed, a little breathless, then turned to open the cabinet above the microwave to take out two tall mugs for the hot chocolate. For some reason, I didn’t mind Mingi’s eyes following my every move as I tinkered around in my kitchen, taking everything I needed in my hands to prepare them on the counter. The thought of having Mingi inside my home, sitting in my kitchen, wearing my ex’s clothes, acting like we’ve been friends since forever seemed to hit me at once as I froze for a second while pouring water inside the second mug, Mingi’s mug. And what was even more surprising was not finding any thoughts that suggested that this was wrong, that I shouldn’t be doing this, that Mingi didn’t belong inside my kitchen. I didn’t want to dwell more on why it all felt so right, so instead, I watched as the mugs whirled around in the microwave, locking these thoughts away for later…I knew they’d come back late at night to haunt me, it’s just how it always was.

Mingi clearing his throat gained my attention as I glanced back at him, and tried not to look too long. The way Yunho’s clothes perfectly fit Mingi’s form was alarming, albeit the sweatpants seemed to be slightly too long for Mingi. I’ve had Yunho’s clothes since highschool, which was a few good years ago, yet they still fit Mingi. It made me wonder if the two ever exchanged clothes or wore something matching, like best friends would do for fun. I know Yunho had once mentioned having matching rings with Mingi, but back then I was too jealous about their closeness to ask any further questions about any other matching items they had. And it was a little surprising just how well Mingi’s skin tone was complimented by the colors of Yunho’s old sweater, Mingi’s necklaces sitting on top of the knitted fabric. That sweater was one of my favorite’s while Yunho and I were dating, Yunho always seemed to be glowing when he wore it. At some point I had even forgotten that I still had it. Perhaps I should do something about the contents of that box, join my mother next month in her frenzy cleaning marathon and throw out its contents.

The microwave pinged and I took the two mugs out, realizing that Mingi and I had been staring at each other for at least a good minute, my cheeks flushed again. A soft chuckle was heard behind me, but I ignored it for my own sake. The silence didn’t last for longer as I opened the little packages containing the hot chocolate powder to pour into our cups, “This might sound crazy, but I swear I’ve seen this exact sweater on Yunho quite a few times.”

I froze, thankful that I had my back to Mingi as panic flashed over my face. Deep breaths, I had this. Mingi didn’t have to know, I could lie my way out of this. And so, I forced a small smile on my face as I faced him while walking to the fridge, “Really? Well, coincidence, maybe. It’s my cousin’s sweater, he forgot it here once, but as he lives overseas he never came to get it and my mother just placed it away for when he comes to visit us.”

I didn’t have one single male cousin. Let alone cousin’s that lived overseas.

“Oh,” Mingi mumbled as he picked at an undone string on the sleeve of Yunho’s sweater, “Yeah, that could be it, a coincidence, I mean. Besides, my memory is a little fuzzy, I might be wrong.”

I gulped away the guilt that suddenly bloomed in my chest and grabbed the whipped cream, raising it up, “Whipped cream for your hot chocolate?”

I grinned at Mingi as he slowly shook his head, “I drink it simple.”

“Really?” I asked surprised as I walked back to the mugs, “Not even with marshmallows?”

Mingi shook his head with a small smile and so I mixed his powder with the warm water, handing it to him. Mingi had a fond smile on his lips when he took it, his cold fingers lightly brushing against mine, making me blush like a stupid schoolgirl who has a crush. And I do not have a crush on anyone, let alone on Song Mingi. I swiftly turned around, hoping that Mingi didn’t notice me blushing as I quickly put whipped cream in my hot chocolate and stuck two marshmallows in it, putting everything away quickly. I turned to face him as I took a sip, leaning against the counter. Mingi sat in a cross-legged position on the chair as he had the mug in his hands, ring clad fingers wrapped around the warm ceramic. I couldn’t help myself as my eyes lingered on his painted nails, slowly trailing up to Mingi’s face. His black fluffy hair fell in his eyes, obscuring his sharp eyes slightly as they were devoid of the black eyeliner now, a few blemishes tainting his otherwise glowing skin around his jaw, glasses slipping low on his tall nose, and plump lips red and slightly wet from how much Mingi always licks his lips. The simplicity of his whole being has never looked more attractive than right now, and as Mingi opened his mouth to say something, I was startled by such alarming thoughts, and so I hurried out of the kitchen.

“Let’s go up to my room!” I called out, on the brink of crying from all these stupid emotions I was suddenly feeling, trying to calm my crazily beating heart. Who allowed my brain to think in such way of Song Mingi? When did I even start considering him attractive? He was annoying, obnoxiously loud, arrogant and irritating, there was absolutely nothing to like about him or find in him attractive. I had to get a grip of myself right now! Mingi’s footsteps were dull as he followed after me, probably surprised that I had waited for him at the top of the stairs, unknowing of the storm inside my head, matching the raging storm outside. Lightning flashed every two seconds, skies rumbling with thunder, shaking even the ground at times. I hated storms, but suddenly it wasn’t as unbearable as before. When Mingi stood next to me, I lead us towards my room and pushed the door open, leaving it like that as Mingi walked in once I stepped aside for him, allowing him inside my safe space.

I have never been consciously proud or embarrassed of what my room looked like, the thought of what others thought of it absent up until right now. As Mingi walked further inside, head turning each and every way, taking everything in, suddenly I realized I was scared of what he would think. My walls were painted a light grey, on purpose, and there was little to no space left bare except for the wall on which the window was. My bed was pushed up against the wall to your left just as you walked inside, sketches that I have done throughout the years plastered up and put on display, my very first drawing even making it up on my wall. It was my little personal museum, a way of reminding myself of where I started out and how much I have evolved ever since, and even how much I was still changing as I was experimenting with my styles, learning a new technique in the class of Mr. Yoon. The desk across from my bed was messy, like I have said, it was littered with everything I needed to have at hand. Pencil holders filled to the brim, at least five of them, then there were brushes and little paint tubes littered all over it, notebooks and discarded sketches sitting underneath it, with my laptop hanging just a little dangerously off, not having paid much attention where I have put it this morning. A plain canvas was spread out on the little free space I still had, a project I had planned on starting today, now postponed for tomorrow. The wall above my desk had three modest shelves filled to the brim with books and some vinyl’s I have started collecting not long ago, pots and plants hanging off from the sides. The wall around the shelves was decorated by posters and pictures of my favorite bands, a few of my favorite paintings mixing in with them. The little stand next to my desk had my vinyl player, plants underneath it and around it, little ones. And then in the corner there was an old guitar that once had belonged to my mother, who has had a phase back in highschool and dreams of becoming a band member, famous and rich. She didn’t have the heart to gift the guitar to anyone, so she’s always kept it and passed it on to me once I was old enough. I never had an affinity for playing any instruments, but I do enjoy good music. A mix of old and new artists making it in that mix, actually—perhaps Noir Zenith slowly becoming one of them too, but Mingi didn’t have to know that. My closet was to the right just as you walked in, and it was of dark and sturdy wood, expanding from the ceiling to the floor. I had a little mirror right on its right side, the wall above and behind it, going right behind the door even, littered with my favorite painter’s paintings. Of course, they were only prints made at the local copy shop, but that didn’t matter. Fairy lights hung above my bed and from the lamp on the ceiling. The two nightstands on either side of my bed were more organized than one would expect from me, little makeup buckets placed on the one closest to the window, charger cable and some headphones sitting on the dark wood. The one nearest to the door had pictures of myself and my mom, and of Seulgi and I on display with a little clock, its drawer so filled with notebooks that I couldn’t quite close it. Thankfully the drawers of my desk weren’t so filled, I had just rearranged them last week, one evening when I was too restless to sleep.

Mingi was quiet as his mouth was slightly open, eyes wide as he took everything in, eyes falling onto my bed. I followed his sight and was mortified to find my biggest sketchbook open and displaying a quite realistic sketch of Mingi performing on stage. It was from the night I had a breakdown and Mingi found me in that diner. Seulgi had sent me some pictures she had taken of Wooyoung and accidentally slipped in one with Mingi too, and because the image just wouldn’t leave my mind, I knew I had no choice but to draw it. I dived for the sketchbook as if my life depended on it, all of it happening so fast I hoped Mingi didn’t actually catch what the drawing—or better said, who—the drawing was of. I shut it closed and pushed it off the bed, the light thud loud in the silent room. When I turned to look at Mingi, ready to face his smug face and taunting words, I was surprised to find his attention on something completely different. Of course, I should’ve expected from a man who plays in a band to be enamored by the vintage guitar in my possession. Its body was a light blue and had cherry blossoms painted over it, something my mother admitted to doing so, which lead to an argument with her father back in the days when he had seen the “damage” my mother had done to the pricey guitar.

“Is that a Martin D-19?” Mingi gushed as he walked toward the guitar, mouth hanging open. My eyebrows raised at his knowledge about it upon one glance. To me, it looked like a regular acoustic guitar. But then again, I should’ve expected it from a music major and a guy who has a literal band and plays the bass.

“Yeah, it was my mother’s.” I answered as I set my mug on the nightstand and sat at the edge of my bed, watching the awed expression on Mingi’s face. He had placed his mug by the foot of my desk as he crouched down, admiring the guitar from up-close.

“It’s absolutely beautiful.” Mingi whispered, fingers carefully tracing its body. Not even at gun point would I have admitted my next thought, which was of just how beautiful Mingi looked in this exact moment. Lightning flashed and the ground shook with the intense thunder, making Mingi tense for a second before he turned back to face me with the prettiest smile I have ever seen on someone.

“Your mother knows how to play it?” He asked, sounding enthusiastic. I was breathless, but after a big gulp, I forced my brain to function.

“Yeah,” I answered with a small smile, “she was a big rock lover back in the days, even wanted to start her own band. But due to her parents negative reactions to it, she unfortunately had to give up on that dream and do something more ‘real’.”

I rolled my eyes at the end of my sentence, not very fond of my grandparents. They weren’t bad people, but they also treated my mother harshly, and even myself, always asking about my future plans and straight up crying when I told them I wanted to become a painter. I saw the way Mingi’s face hardened for a second, but I knew he didn’t want to talk about it as he became expressionless quickly after. I was curious what made his mood become sour so quickly, if he perhaps related to what I have said in some way, but I wouldn’t prod. If he wants to tell me, he will sometime. So, instead, as a distraction, I scooched up further on my bed and patted the mattress next to me with a lazy smile, watching Mingi’s eyes slightly widen. He looked a little shy as he grabbed his mug and rose up to his full height, steps almost hesitant as he approached the bed, making me snort. It made Mingi narrow his eyes as I crossed my legs underneath myself as he kneeled on the bed and then settled beside me, long legs extended as he playfully wiggled his feet left and right. I chuckled as I clasped my hands together, letting them rest in my lap as Mingi took a sip of his hot chocolate. The silence was comfortable between us, the harsh rain hitting the windows loudly, wind rocking trees harshly, and the lightning and rumble a constant background noise.

“Last time when we performed at Outlaw, when you didn’t come,” Mingi paused and turned his head to look at me, “you know, when we met at the diner—”

“Let’s not talk about that.” I muttered with a grimace and Mingi hummed, licking his lips.

“Right, so, that night,” His voice was quiet, lips pulling into an abashed smile, “the crowd was bigger than usual, at first I blamed it on being a rowdier night, but it turned out those people were there to see us, Noir Zenith, to see me.”

I felt a small smile appear on my own lips, Mingi looking pleased with himself despite the light pink tinge of his cheeks, “And now Hongjoong might help us sign with a record deal, I feel like everything is finally coming together. Like my hard work is finally being rewarded.”

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from smiling too wide, subconsciously reaching out to hold Mingi’s arm as he looked me in the eyes, “That’s so good, Mingi! You deserve all the praise and attention your band gets, you’re really good.”

“You really think so?” Mingi sounded small, eyes wide in wonder as he flushed more. I knew I have said some things that weren’t the nicest, and now it made me realize that Mingi never deserved hearing those things from me. Yeah, I didn’t like the guy much at the beginning—not that now I like him more—but I still shouldn’t have shit on his music, on something he pours his whole soul and heart into.

“I really do, Mingi.” I slightly squeezed his arm, hoping that he could hear the sincerity in my voice as a wide and bright smile spread onto Mingi’s plush lips, so contagious that I found myself with a matching smile on my own lips. I chuckled, for some reason not wanting to release his arm just yet, the knitted sweater soft and warm under my touch.

“Lovely seeing you slowly turn into my number one fan, doll.” Of course, trust Mingi to ruin the moment. My eyes narrowed as I sighed loudly, slowly shaking my head. Mingi chuckled before taking a large gulp of his not so hot anymore chocolate, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Now, don’t get cocky.” I rolled my eyes, pulling my hand off his arm, watching as his eyes lingered where I have touched him, “I can recognize good work without becoming your fan.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Mingi mused playfully and I scoffed, bumping my shoulder into his before I went to retrieve my laptop from my desk, “Seonghwa and Wooyoung want us to try out new genres.”

“Really?” I asked surprised as I settled back in my previous spot, knee brushing against Mingi’s thigh, “Like what?”

“Well, nothing specific, just something little softer.” Mingi pursed his lips, fiddling with the mug in his hands, “Maybe something more indie rock.”

“I love indie rock,” I muttered absentmindedly as I powered on my laptop, “and why are you reluctant?”

Mingi seemed surprised that I had caught on, but it was quite obvious in his tone that he didn’t sound very enthusiastic about it, “Because my voice is rough and raw, unlike Seonghwa’s who’s smooth and almost angelic, and Wooyoung’s who’s can reach pitches I can only dream of and has a roughness that is absolutely soft at the same time, alluring.”

“Your voice is deep and powerful, it conveys every single emotion you’re feeling when you sing, Mingi. Your raspy tone alone tells a story, even without speaking the same language I would understand what you’re singing about. But just because it’s rougher and more powerful compared to Seonghwa and Wooyoung’s doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful and enchanting, Mingi.” Occupied with typing in the password to my laptop, I failed to notice the way Mingi’s breaths became shallow, the way his eyes bore into the side of my skull, “I think your voice is unique and desirable, you should be proud of it and not look down on yourself because of it. Many wish to have what you have, so really, don’t think any less of yourself because you think Seonghwa and Wooyoung are somehow better and more alluring. It’s not true, each one of you has their charm and well…I think you’re the most charming out of the three of you.”

I didn’t expect the expression on Mingi’s face when I turned my head to look at him. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were glazed over as his sharp eyes watched me intently, his breaths loud as his cheeks were red. My eyebrows furrowed, and for a second I worried I have made him angry, but the longer I looked, I realized the look in his eyes had nothing to do with anger. I gulped and averted my eyes, suddenly feeling my heart race again, biting my lower lip and trying to ignore the overbearing proximity between us. It was only our knee and thigh touching, yet it felt like Mingi was all over me, his scent still strong despite having changed out of his clothes and getting soaked by the rain. He always had a sharp scent surround him; it reminded me of pine trees.

“Thank you.” At last, Mingi found his voice and it was lower than before, goosebumps covered my skin as the low baritone of it traveled through my body. I nodded once in acknowledgement, not trusting my voice as I went on the internet to search for some movies to watch and pass the time while we wait for the storm to pass. If it passes, “Do you think rapping would fit my tone?”

It was an unexpected question, but as I mulled over it, I concluded that Mingi had the perfect timbre to both sing and rap, “Yeah, I think it would.”

I dared to take a peek at Mingi from the corner of my eyes, and was relieved to find the intensity gone from his face, instead, a soft smile grazed his lips as he finished his hot chocolate. He leaned back and placed his empty mug next to mine on the nightstand and fished his phone out of his pocket, “I found some old videos of me at school plays, let’s see what my music genius bestie thinks of them.”

I rolled my eyes, but nevertheless peered over Mingi’s shoulder in curiosity, “Don’t make fun of me, I’m merely stating something that someone with not musically trained ears hear. You should be more thankful.”

“I’m more than thankful, Y/N.” Mingi suddenly turned his head, our faces too close for comfort, so I quickly leaned back as he placed his arm on my thigh and pressed play on a video he pulled up from his gallery.

『Do you wanna, do you wanna own my mind, own my mind?

Do you wanna, do you wanna own my mind, own my mind?

Do you wanna know what the good, good, bad things all feel like?

Do you wanna, do you wanna own my mind, own my mind?』

The movie of my choice was simple, The Quiet Ones. Nothing better than something a little spooky while there’s a wild storm raging outside, but to my utter surprise, Mingi looked terrified after only ten minutes of watching it. We were both leaning against the headboard of my bed, pillows behind our backs, and laptop placed between our lower bodies as our legs were stretched out. And despite the laptop being between us, Mingi’s shoulder pressed against mine not even five minutes after settling in our current spots. Trying to watch the horror movie, which was one of my favorite movie’s, turned out to be a fail, and I had no choice but to give in to Mingi as he only stopped whining when he got what he wanted. And that was watching a rom-com from the nineties, called 10 Things I Hate About You. I’ve seen it numerous times already, but it never gets old. There is something about the way the actors play their parts, and the plot too, that have me coming back to it with the same enthusiasm I had for it when watching it for the first time. At first, I thought Mingi hadn’t seen it and had only went along with my suggestion because he didn’t know what else to watch, but when he started quoting Patrick’s lines as if he were the character himself, I narrowed my eyes at him and poked his arm. After some painful jabs, he admitted that it was his favorite movie and he regularly rewatched it, especially if he was in a bad mood. That was a piece of information I wasn’t expecting from someone like Mingi. He looked like a guy who enjoyed tough and brutal movies, with the occasional romance movies if a pretty girl begged him to watch it together. Turns out, Mingi’s favorite genre is romance, and he hates horror, and depends on the type of thriller whether he likes it or not.

We found ourselves joking and laughing throughout the movie, making our own commentary about it after our first disagreement. Which was about whether Patrick accepting the money to charm Kat was right or wrong. Of course, it was very wrong to play with someone’s feelings and get paid for it too, but Mingi argued that if he never accepted it, then him and Kat would’ve never gotten together. And for that, I threw in the hypothetical scenario of him accepting money from Wooyoung so that he could take me out on a date and make me fall in love with him if that meant Wooyoung could have Seulgi date him. Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed and he declined such scenario, exactly proving my point why this was so wrong then, but he remained believing that for Kat and Patrick it totally worked out. And then he had the audacity to compare my stubbornness to Kat’s, making me call him just as stupid as Patrick was.

Time flew by as our laughter got louder, completely missing the way the rain had started to quiet down as we were immersed in the movie we were watching. It felt like a bubble was wrapped around us, isolating us from the cold world, and letting us enjoy ourselves without being so cautious of what we were saying. It felt nice. I couldn’t remember a time when I was able to let loose with someone other than Seulgi. It was a nice feeling, it made me excited in some way, completely making me forget that I was doing this with Mingi. He made it too easy to forget my worries and made me feel really comfortable all of a sudden, never stepping out of line—if we ignore his stupid flirting—and always keeping everything lighthearted. It was a nice change for once.

I groaned as I let my head fall back, lips pursed as my ass had gone numb from sitting so much in one place. Mingi snickered as Kat reversed into Joey’s car, clearly amused by the snarky remarks exchanged between the two characters. He was clearly into the witty exchanges, especially between Patrick and Kat, even having said that it makes Kat attractive how quickly and well she can shut Patrick down. I had told him that she wouldn’t have to do that if Patrick wasn’t so stupid most of the time, making Mingi roll his eyes at me, and say that I simply didn’t appreciate some good banter. Which wasn’t even true, I liked bantering if it had a smart purpose, not just to rile each other up, what was the point of that?

I licked my lips as my head lulled to the right, eyes falling on Mingi’s profile as he had his legs up, leaning forward as he hugged them around his knees with one arm. He was smiling and chuckling, pretty red lips pulled to the side, showing off his white teeth. His brows were dark, and his browbone being more prominent really sharpened his face in a very aesthetically pleasing way. Mingi’s face was very beautiful, and as an artist, I couldn’t help but admire it, and recognize it. So many pretty portraits of his face could be made, pity he doesn’t model. My lips pulled into a tiny smile at the thought of him modelling for me when we had to sketch human forms for our next class. I’m sure my professor would appreciate my drawings even more. Mingi’s glasses were discarded, and my eyes paused on his long nose, biting my lower lip just as Mingi chuckled again, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. He sniffed before rubbing two fingers against his plump lips, wetting them not even a second later. I gulped as I suddenly wondered what they would taste like. It was such a startling thought that I jumped, but Mingi suddenly looking at me certainly scared me more. I gulped, instantly blushing as a friendly smile painted Mingi’s lips as he leaned back, placing his head on the pillow, and letting it roll to the left. Our gazes connected, and I wasn’t surprised to find my heart beating so quickly once again, my lips pulling into a straight line as I struggled to keep my breathing even. Mingi’s easy smile didn’t disappear as his eyes racked over my face, it only became wider.

There was a whole galaxy behind those beautiful deep brown eyes of his, they sparkled with life and an excitement I haven’t seen in anyone before. I wished that I could recreate that in my drawings, but I wasn’t good enough to give simple eyes such deep emotions yet. And I really wished I was able to do so, because the longer I stared into Mingi’s eyes, the more lost I got in them, thoughts and worries disappearing into nothingness. Mingi’s hand twitched for a second and I tensed when I felt a finger gently poking my cold hand. I gulped, but I wasn’t able to look away as ever so softly more fingers brushed against my skin like feather, Mingi’s bottom lip between his teeth. His actions were slow and cautious, probably afraid that I would pull away, but I was too captured by his alluring gaze to even think to move away from him. Slowly, his longer fingers intertwined with mine and his rings cut into my skin when I squeezed his hand, uncaring that it hurt a bit. I knew my cheeks were now surely very red, but I couldn’t actually be bothered to feel embarrassed, not when Mingi’s cheeks were dusted pink as well. His high cheekbones were flushed the pretties color they could have been, and I smiled as Mingi blinked, looking abashed. Somehow no words had to be exchanged between us, everything felt comfortable, scarily familiar. I haven’t felt like this…since my ex. And not even with him have I felt so safe and understood, it always seemed like there was some invisible barrier between us, and I never understood why. With Mingi, if I allowed myself to feel and be unafraid, no barrier lay between the two of us.

I gulped, eyes suddenly falling on Mingi’s lips as his tongue poked out just slightly to wet them, his plump lips red and full. I’ve never seen a person have such full lips, and it made me wonder if they were as soft as one would imagine them be. Aware that my eyes were glued to Mingi’s lips, I looked back up in his eyes, trying to ignore how insanely attractive his mole right underneath it made him look. There was something about Mingi’s bareface that was so charming and beautiful that it almost made me feel jealous of it. Mingi sniffed quietly, and his bottom lip was between his teeth again as his eyes fell to my lips, my rapid heartbeat halting for a second. Could he be having similar thoughts to mine? I wouldn’t know, but when Mingi’s eyes found mine again, they were just slightly more intense and sharper. Like he was determined and nothing could stop him. I gulped loudly as he moved his head, just lightly, but it was closer than before. My heart was beating like crazy, but almost as if I was under a spell, I found myself shifting my head just a little bit closer. Mingi’s eyes no longer were on mine, and as my lips parted when I licked them, I felt Mingi’s hand squeeze mine just a little bit more. I gulped as I proceeded to lean even closer, my eyes fixated on Mingi’s lips now too, just wondering and wondering infinitely if they were warm, soft, wet, and what they would taste like. I didn’t startle nor flinch when Mingi angled his body so that he could lean dangerously close, the bridge of his nose brushing against mine. His hot breath mingled with mine as our lips were parted, a pull so magnetic I couldn’t untangle myself from it even if I tried to. My eyes threatened to flutter closed as I pressed my nose against his, the side of our lips rubbing just a little together as I couldn’t breathe regularly anymore. Mingi’s lips pressed ever so slightly against the corner of mine, feather like, and it suddenly wasn’t enough. The distance, it was too big—even if it didn’t even exist between us anymore—and I squeezed his hand as I angled my head to finally press our lips together, Mingi’s breaths audible due to our proximity.

But suddenly, a door was slammed shut loudly, “Sweetheart, I made it home finally! I saw a car parked in front of our house, all’s good?!”

The curious and shrill voice of my mother sent Mingi and I flying away from each other, both of our eyes wide as I was panting, my whole body burning. I couldn’t look at Mingi as I scrambled to press pause on the movie and Mingi was off the bed in a flash, sprinting towards my window. I could still feel his hot puffs against my face, and I gulped as I forced myself to forget everything I felt just seconds ago.

“The rain stopped,” Mingi’s voice was hoarse, so gravely that I had to clench my fists to stop myself from doing something I would regret, “I will be going.”

“I’ll go downstairs, let my mom know you’re here.” My voice wasn’t better off, I sounded breathless. I felt lightheaded as I got off the bed, standing and pausing for a second.

“Right, I’ll change back into my clothes and then—”

“No,” I didn’t mean to sound desperate as Mingi’s eyes fell on me, I had to look away in embarrassment, “keep them, they are of no use to me.”

“Right.” Mingi cleared his throat and I quickly walked past him, thankful that he stepped aside, and hurried out of my room and down the stairs. I took a deep breath to compose myself as I heard my mother placing down plastic bags in the kitchen. I needed to behave like everything was fine, when nothing was fine anymore.

“Hi!” My greeting was high pitched and way too cheery, my mother’s eyes narrowed when she saw me standing in the doorway, “Glad you made it home, the storm was awful.”

“It really was.” My mom grimaced as she continued unpacking the groceries, “You got home alright?”

“Yeah, uhm, actually,” I gulped and bit my lower lip as I heard Mingi coming down the stairs, “a friend from university drove me home as it was already raining, and he, uhm, stayed over. Because the rain was so bad he wouldn’t have been able to drive home. You know, safety measures and all.”

My mother paused and looked up at me with both of her eyebrows raised, “He?”

And on cue, Mingi appeared next to me, glasses pushed up on his nose adequately for once and hair not as messy as before, “Hello, my name is Song Mingi.”

“Nice to meet you, dear.” My mother’s eyes were glinting, looking way too happy for someone who was just introducing themselves. I was afraid of what would come, so, I grabbed Mingi’s arm and guided him towards the coat hanger.

“Mingi’s leaving, mom.” I said as I let go of his arm, averting my eyes as he wore his shoes and pulled on his jacket.

“Already?” My mom asked with a pout, coming to stand in the doorway, “Don’t you want to stay for dinner, dear?”

Mingi froze, eyes first finding mine before he looked at my mother with a polite smile, “Don’t worry, Mrs—”

“Oh, don’t be all formal with me, I hate that shit.” My mother chuckled and winked at him, “Call me Boyoung.”

Mingi gulped, seemingly taken aback by my mother’s behavior. I couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, knowing how surprising the contrast between my mother’s personality and mine was. Sadly, I haven’t taken after her when it comes to my attitude, but that’s fine.

“Well, Boyoung, thank you for your offer, but my friends and I actually agreed on dining out tonight.” Mingi’s excuse sounded real, so I knew he wasn’t lying. I gulped when my mother threw me a very slick glare, almost saying that this was my fault. I rolled my eyes, offended by her assumption.

“That’s a pity, dear,” My mother pouted, but soon a bright smile appeared on her lips, “But you are invited for whenever you feel like having dinner with us, right, my starlight?”

I tried not to glare at my mother for the outrageous nickname, especially when I saw Mingi’s lips twitch in amusement. I told her not to call me that in front of others so many times, “Right, mom.”

My mother chuckled, all too aware of my dislike for the nickname, before her eyes landed on Mingi again. There was a brief pause, one too awkward for my liking, and then Mingi was clearing his throat and opening the front door.

“Uh,” He made eye contact with me briefly, “talk to you later.”

“Wait,” My mother’s eyebrows furrowed as Mingi stepped outside, trying to adjust the strap of his backpack, “Aren’t those Yun—”

“Talk to you later!” I loudly said, making sure to send my mother a very alarmed look as Mingi froze for a second before he hummed quietly and took off towards his car.

The air was chilly and humid due to the harsh rain, and as I closed the front door, I knew I had a lot of questions to answer when my eyes fell on my mother’s amused face.

❱❱ Next chapter

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lol, this is the surprise I mentioned...I saw this post and it would just not leave my mind, besides, I think it's very fitting for our plot, no?

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 1 year

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Being Inarizaki’s Manager

Miss Manager is Shy and Cute 🥹

Inarizaki x shy and cute! Female manager (she/her pronoun)

Warnings: Atsumu starts off as a butthole but we reform him, fluff

A/N: I wrote a headcanon set earlier with a shy reader and well, now I think I’m a shy reader expect 💅 so here’s one of my favs with a shy manager 😌

Oof- you good, girl?

Seriously this team is like the opposite of shy and calm

I wouldn’t say they are Karasuno level but they get HYPED

Now, many of them had given up the dream of ever having a female manager

They were prepared to brave it alone (namely Kita, Aran, Omimi, Akashi, Suna, Ginjima, etc)

They knew what their problem was…

Well PROBLEMS

Atsumu and Osamu

But it’s fine because they were efficient 💅

Kita did everything and well, Kita did everything

But that all changed when one day our precious Angel, Riseki, met someone new 👀

You see, you were the new girl in school

A curse honestly

Being the new kid is never easy, trying to find friends or fit in with everyone is so hard

And to top it off, you were ridiculously shy and a wallflower

It’s not that you didn’t want to make friends but your shy, cute nature made it difficult

When you first joined Riseki’s class, he thought you were rather cute

You kept to yourself, didn’t bother anyone

You were smart and capable

And most importantly, you had absolutely NO CLUE who the Miya twins were 😌

Riseki had watched you a few times, and you showed a lot of promise

You seemed to be able to ignore all the Miya chat surrounding you

You didn’t seem bothered by the fan girls

And most importantly, when a Miya fight would break out, you’d simply ✨ignore ✨ it

The problem was that Riseki knew you were shy

You’d never speak up in class, you barely talked to anyone

But he also knew this was his opportunity

So what does he do? Well he confides in Kita

“Hey Kita, so I think I might have found us a potential manager?”

Kita 👉🏻😐😑 *not convinced or optimistic whatsoever*

“Is this person a teenage girl?” Kita asks in return

“Yes but-”

Kita 👉🏻 No 🫶🏻🥰

“Here me out tho, she’s a transfer student and I’ve been keeping an eye on her,” Riseki says

Kita 👉🏻🤨 creepy but ight-

“She has shown zero reaction to the Miyas at all! Like none, not even a second glance!” He says

Kita 👉🏻 tell me more…

Riseki goes on to explain more about you and Kita agrees to give you a small trial run

Ok now that Kita is convinced, all Riseki needs to do is ask you

Simple right?

“Hey Yn!” He yells as you freeze

You rn 👉🏻😐😳

Please you are looking around like “is he talking to me? Am I Yn?”

“Hey I was wondering if you had a club yet?” He asked as you just stared 👁️👄👁️

Please Yn, function

Riseki realizes that he probably came in way too strong, so he backs up a bit

“Umm I’m sorry to come at you so strong but I was wondering if you needed a club? The boys volleyball team is looking for a manager and I think you’d be perfect,” he says as your eyes widen even more

Please blink before your eyes dry up

“Ohh umm I don’t think I umm- I’m not sure I’d be good- I don’t play volleyball or know anything really,” you say as you blush heavily

Riseki is DYING at how cute you are 😭

“It’s ok Yn! I can teach you everything and the guys, wellmostoftheguys, are super helpful!” He says as you ponder for a bit

Maybe this is just what you need? You never take chances like this and maybe now is the time to start branching out

“Umm I guess I can try,” you say, a tiny smile lighting up your face as Riseki dies inside 😭

After school, he brings you to practice

The gym is huge and all the guys in it are huge as well

You start to second guess your decision

Maybe you aren’t cut out to be social, yeah maybe you’ll just be shy forever

Suddenly you are forced out of you thoughts when you are approached by four guys

You quickly take refuge behind Riseki and peer out from behind him as the boys all smile at you

“Kita, Aran, Omimi, Akagi- this is Yn! Yn these are our third years!” Riseki says as you blush hard and peek out from behind him

“Umm hello, I’m YN from class 1-4. It’s very n-nice to meet y-you,” you stutter out as the third years practically perish

How the heck are you so freaking cute?? 😭

“It’s nice to meet you YN, I’m Kita, the captain. Thank you so much for coming to meet with us,” Kita says, already impressed that you aren’t making waves or causing any disruptions

“T-thank you for having me,” you say as you stand next to Riseki now, a little more confident

“So Yn, do you know anything about volleyball?” Aran asks as you shake your head

“Not really but I’m a pretty fast learner,” you say as the boys all nod

Suddenly, a rouge ball comes flying out of nowhere as you quickly take cover as Akagi stops it from hitting you

“Are you ok Yn?” Kita asks as you nod

“I’m fine thank you,” you say before being approached by a boy with a yellowish blonde hair color

“Hey girls aren’t allowed in the gym!” He shouts as you reeled back a bit

Who was this extremely rude person?

“Shut up ya idiot! Obviously she’s talking to the captain!” A silver toned man says

“Yeah well I don’t need to be interrupted by any squealing pigs during my serves so get out of here!” He shouts at you as you quietly back up

“ATSUMU! Knock it off, stop being so rude! This isn’t one of your fan girls, this is Yn and she’s going to be our trial manager!” Kita scolds the yellowish blonde as he scoffs

“This? This is going to be our manager? She’s tiny and looks like she’s afraid of her own shadow! How is she going to ever be a manager for a powerhouse?” Atsumu says as you whince a little

Man he was a jerk 😒

“Damn Sumu, you’re being a jerk! Leave the poor girl alone,” a tall black haired man says

“Suna’s right! She didn’t do anything to you,” Omimi says as Atsumu stares at you

“She’s literally taking up space! Like how is she going to even be helpful?” Atsumu says as you finally lose it

“Excuse me,” you say, a little anger and agitation now clear on your voice

Everyone 👉🏻👀

“Yes, I maybe a little shy and skittish at times but it’s extremely rude of you to judge someone you haven’t even been introduced to,” you say as the men all look at you

Kita is like mentally taking notes

Suna has his phone out and recording 📱

Riseki is like “who is this?”

“My name is Yn and I’m a first year. I might not be the best but I’m smart and I learn quickly. If I interrupted your practice, I apologize but I won’t stand here and be treated with disrespect,” you say as you bow and take your leave

Honestly Queen shit 👑

Oohhhh Kita and Riseki are BIG MAD

Kita doesn’t say anything, he just GLARES at Atsumu

Riseki turns and goes after you but not before giving Atsumu the death glare of a lifetime

Aran, Omimi and Akagi are ready to kill

Suna is still recording 📱

Ginjima has now joined the pack and is wondering what the heck is going on

And Osamu, well Osamu is 👀 👇🏻

“YOU TYRANNICAL PIGGGGG!” He shouts as he kicks Atsumu in the back

But this time, nobody stops him from beating up his brother

The team 👉🏻 😙🎶

Meanwhile-

“YN wait! Please wait- I’m so sorry about Atsumu!” Riseki says apologizing to you

“Riseki, I’m sorry but I can’t-,”

“Please Yn! PLEASE! Please just give us a shot! I promise, we will kick Atsumu off the team if we have to just please be our manager!” Riseki says, on his knees BEGGING

Dang these guys really want a manager 😅

You sign, “I’ll do a trial run if it means that much to you.”

Riseki 👉🏻😐😳🥹 really?!?

You smile and nod a little

Riseki pulls you in for a deep hug 🫂 as you simply blush

And this began your journey as Inarizaki’s sweet manager

I wish I could say it was all smooth sailing but alas, Atsumu is still on the team 🙄

You aren’t sure why but at first, he’s just not nice at all

Like he refuses to take a towel from you, or even drink the water you hand him

He kind of makes you miserable

He knows how shy you are so he often puts you on the spot just to embarrass you

“Hey Yn do you know what that was called?” He says as he slams a serve over

Omimi and Akagi 👉🏻🙄 here we go…

Kita 👉🏻 😐😑 Atsumu-

Osamu 👉🏻 just say the word Yn 🙎‍♂️🤛🏻

Suna 👉🏻👀📱

“Umm a serve ace right?” You shyly respond

“Well would you look at that, she can learn,” Atsumu laughs as he walks away

Everyone is GLARING at Sumu rn

Literally Riseki was not joking when he said they would kick him off the team Yn

Idk if you bruised his ego or what Yn but man’s has it out for you 😅

However, one thing about Atsumu is that you can win the man over

It’s simple really… 🙌🏻 praise 🙌🏻

And you do just that

“Sumu your sets are really off today!” Aran says as Atsumu glares at him

“Yeah dude you literally almost flubbed our quick,” Suna says as Atsumu rolls his eyes and walks away

He sits on the bench, putting a towel over his head as he ponders

He’s not sure what’s wrong with him today but he’s been off all day

You noticed something was off, thinking maybe he was just having a bad day

But then you realized that Atsumu Miya wasn’t use to having bad days

So you decide to extend an olive branch

You walk over the him as he sits on the bench

“YN wait!” Osamu tries to stop you but he can’t

Suna’s eyes widen in fear for your life as Kita gets ready to save you from certain destruction

You calmly sit beside Atsumu as he turns his head and glares at you

You smile a little and place your hand on his gently

The team 👉🏻😳😲

“Everyone has bad days Atsumu. If we didn’t have bad days, we’d never get better. I still think you’re an amazing setter and if you ever need a hug, I’m here for you,” you say as Atsumu’s eyes widen

Atsumu is to stunned to speak

Quick Suna take a picture!

Seriously he was so mean to you and yet, you were still so nice to him

You smile and stand up, walking back to practice when it happens 🫣

Two strong arms grasp you from behind as a warmth radiates around you

You smile a little, grabbing his arms and squeezing

“Thanks Yn,” Atsumu says as he lets go and walks back into the court

The entire team is too stunned to speak

You say nothing as you go back to your job, handling towels, volleyballs and notes

“Did that just happen?” Ginjima asks

“I think so? Is this a dream?” Omimi responds

“Holy crap Atsumu actually has a heart?” Suna says

“OF COURSE I HAVE A HEART YA IDIOT!” Atsumu screams from the court

“Not like anyone could every tell ya grinch!” Osamu responds

“EXCUSE YOU SIR?!? WE ALL HAVE BAD DAYS, IF WE DISNT HOW WOULD WE EVER GET BETTER!” Atsumu responds

“YN literally just told you that ya dummy!” Ginjima says, rolling his eyes 🙄

The guys go back to practice

This time, Atsumu is much more on point

You smile and clap as the boys all kill it in practice

You don’t cheer loud, simply clap and smile 😊

It’s literally giving them life Yn!

Now when it came time for tournaments, you can’t say you weren’t nervous

This was your first time around so many people

You were still pretty shy, even thought you’d become friends with the entire volleyball team

Literally they were so protective of their shy little manager 🥹

“Ok is everyone here?” Kita asks as you nod

You had been walking in back with Suna, making sure all the members stayed together

“Ok let’s go get warmed up!” Kita shouted as the guys all nodded and followed

You were walking when suddenly, your notebook fell and your papers scattered everywhere

“Crap!” You silently said as you kneeled down to pick them up

However what you failed to notice was that the team had continued to walk

You see where I’m going with this 👀

“Hey guys- oh no!” You said as you stood up, realizing there was every color of jersey surrounding you BUT black and white

You 👉🏻😐😳😢

“Ok Yn calm down, the team is somewhere,” you silently muttered to yourself as you wandered around giants

You felt like crying, scared and nervous because there were so many people around

You had to ask someone for help

Suddenly, you bumped into the back of someone

“I’m so sorry!” You said, tears in your eyes as she looked at you

“Oh it’s fine, hey are you ok?” She asked, gorgeous blue eyes watching you

You shook your head, eyes meeting hers

��Hey Kiyoko, I’ve got the bento boxes all sorted!” A blonde girl said, walking up to you

“What team do you work with?” The girl named Kiyoko asked

“I-I’m with Inarizaki,” you said as they both smiled

“Come with me and Yachi, we can take you to the gym,” Kiyoko said as Yachi stood beside you

“Thank you so much,” you say bashfully to the two pretty girls

Meanwhile…

“Ok Riseki, Ginjima can you help YN fill up the water bottles please?” Kita asks as they nod and look over to you

Only you’re not there 😅

They start looking all over for their precious bby

Please Ginjima even looks under his shoes incase he stepped on you 😭

“Umm Kita,” Riseki interrupts

“Yes,” Kita says looking at him

“YNs not here,” Riseki says as everyone stops

“What the hell? Where is she?” Kita says looking around everywhere for you

“Suna weren’t you walking with her?” Aran asks as Suna gulps

“She was with me just a a minute ago!” Suna says, now panicking too

“Oh my god and I was just starting to actually like her and you lost her?!?” Atsumu says as Osamu smacks the back of his head

Then they hear their opponents say something

“Has anyone seen Kiyoko and Yachi?” Their team captain says

“OH MY GOD WE HAVE A MANAGER KIDNAPPER!!!” Riseki yells as two of Karasunos memebers RUN from the gym

“We have to find Yn!” Aran shouts following them with the rest of the team

All that remains in the gym is Kita and Karasuno’s captain, Daichi

“We could just text them,” Daichi says as Kita nods

Back with you, you are enjoying talking with the two Karasuno managers

They both seem a little shy like you but they still manage a strong school

“The gym is just up this way-” Kiyoko says when you hear it

At first, it sounds like a stampede of elephants

Then you realize it’s just like 15 teenage boys racing toward you 😅

“YN OH MY GOD WE FOUND YOU!” Riseki says pulling you into a hug as your boys gather around you

“Are you hurt? Do you need help? Are you hungry?” Aran says panicking as you watch Kiyoko and Yachi fight off their team

You giggle a little, the boys taken a back

“I’m fine guys, I actually just made some friends!” You says smiling at Kiyoko and Yachi

Inarizaki rn 👉🏻😐😳🥹 our baby is growing up!

“Thanks Kiyoko and Yachi! I’ll see you in the gym!” You say, waving to the two girls as they follow you

You look over at Riseki and give him the biggest hug

Riseki rn 👉🏻😳

“Thanks for inviting me to be your team manager! Now let’s go kick some butt!” You say sweetly as the team stops

The team 👉🏻👁️💧👄💧👁️

No need to worry about the match Yn, I’m sure everything will be just fine 😌

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sixosix · 11 months

Text

a/n both my latest fics r about cold can u tell that i’m trying to manifest it

warnings none! fluff, highschool au, ooc reo i think, wc 500

it is unfortunate that you are seated directly under the ceiling cassette aircon on the same day—the one day—you decided that bringing a jacket would be unnecessary. with the way you are trembling and feeling as though all your limbs have turned into ice speaks volumes of your deep regret.

you envy your classmates already borrowing hoodies from each other, eyeing them as they snuggle into their seats. specifically, your seatmate, who is making a clear point in sighing contentedly every time you glance at her sweater-clad way.

the squeak of nearly-dry markers scrawling on the whiteboard only serves to irritate your already sour mood—here you are, cold, pissed off, and dying.

“does anyone know the answer?” your teacher asks, and the hands raised give you a chance to peek at your phone and notice someone has messaged you.

reo come out rq

reo hi just peek outside please

it was sent ten minutes ago. you suddenly feel an impending sense of doom.

“that’s correct. can someone explain why we should not consider the claim— who is knocking?”

mikage reo’s head pops out from the door, a feigned sheepish smile on his face. “sorry to disturb you, ma’am, i just want to give this to y/n,” he says, showing off the thick jacket in his hand, and without even scanning the entire room, his eyes zero in on you immediately.

mortification settles in on you when everyone’s wide-eyed gazes shift over to your trembling figure.

standing up and feeling like you’re dying a little inside, you head over to the door, glaring at reo while your back is turned in on the baffled audience. with a swift turn, you pull reo by the sleeve and drag him outside of the classroom. the door slams shut.

“thank you, reo,” you dryly laugh, taking the jacket. then added in a frantic whisper, “in the middle of math class? really?”

reo smiles, all teeth and adorable sappiness. “in the middle of math class. really,” he affirms. “passed by your class and saw you shivering. and you weren’t replying, so me, wonderful as i am, did what i had to do.”

you’re not wearing it on your person yet, but with the way reo’s leaning closer, arms snaking around your waist, you feel the heat seep into your body like flames licking up your skin. it burns the most on your cheeks, and reo’s eyes hone in on it like a man on a mission.

belatedly, you realize the position you’re in—reo all but pinning you to the wall, arms on your waist, your back pressed up against the surface—and how this must look to bypassers. “don’t do this here! we’re literally in a hallway.”

“it’s fine,” reo grins sharply, “everyone’s in class.”

“yeah, so why are you here?”

he huffs, nuzzling his face into your neck, his breath on your skin. you shiver, and you feel his smile. “you won’t like it when i say i missed you even though it’s the truth.”

“i’m glad you know me so well.”

and you know, that even when you go back inside the room without wearing his stupid little jacket, you’d still feel all warm inside, the ghost of his kiss burning deep.

#606:BLLK #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage x you #x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #bllk reo x reader #mikage reo x reader #mikage reo imagines #mikage reo fluff #bllk fanfic #blue lock fluff #reo fluff

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maiko-coy · 29 days

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yoooo! The au sounds lit! We need more angry Dogday.

Do you have more ideas about it? 👁️

Thank you, I'm glad you like it!!! I do have several ideas for the AU, especially around the plotline and a bit of the side drabbles.

Missed Chances AU is basically revolving around the smiling critters in the Playcare (however, its specifically focused on our dear Dogday and Catnap, of course), but I've separated it into three arcs. First arc is the pre-HOJ. This is more on to fill in the backstory of the critters and how they are trained to interact in the Playcare, as well as them finding their own independence and creating their own personalities. This won't be as long as the other two arcs but I do plan on doodling a few drabbles from this arc for fluff and character development. This arc builds up until the Hour of Joy event. Second arc is post-HOJ. This arc focuses more on the events after Hour of Joy and how the Critters survive through it. This arc specifically focuses on Dogday. There will be major angst here with almost zero-to-none comfort because I'm still closely following the canon events. So yes, Dogday will still end up how he is in the canon game. This arc builds up until the canon Chapter 3. Third arc is post-chapter 3. As y'all have seen in my previous post, this arc is where Player saves Dogday, Dogday being vengeful, and saving Catnap. I haven't thought most of this arc yet (considering that the chapters aren't done yet) but I have planned out at least how Dogday and Catnap interacts here, as well as Player, Kissy, and Poppy. Sorry people but I don't plan on making any ships in this AU, simply because I don't think they have the time to in this situation and that I have no idea how romance work LMAOAOAO but I dont mind if yall ship anyone, I'm just saying that I don't plan on drawing any lovey-doveys in here. I also plan on giving this AU two endings: True ending and Good ending, cuz I'm evil like that. Maybe I'll make non-canonical doodles of this au who knows

#maiko rustles #poppy playtime chapter 3 #poppy playtime au #Missed Chances AU #smiling critters #Dw I'll be drawing three arcs sometime #I made like a short snippet of a scene in post-chapter3 where Dogday may have snapped at Catnap and Player hehe

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sasaranurude · 9 days

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Okay. I've been playing Tokyo Debunker today, since the release happened to catch me on a day when all I'd planned to do was write fanfiction. I just finished reading the game story prologue (it was longer than expected!), so here's a review type post. If you're reading this post not having seen a single thing about this game: it's a story-based joseimuke gacha mobile game that just released globally today. It's about a girl who suddenly finds herself attending a magic school and mingling with elite, superhuman students known as ghouls. If you look in the tumblr tag for the game you'll see what appears to be a completely different game from 2019 or so: they retooled it completely midway through development, changing just about everything about it due to "escalating competition within the gaming industry."

I'll talk about how this looks like a blatant twst clone at the end.

Starting with the positive: The story is charming. I enjoyed it thoroughly the entire time and am excited to read more. The mix between visual novel segments and motion comics was really nice--it broke things up and added a lot of oomph to the action or atmospheric scenes that visual novels generally lack. I like the art in the comic parts a lot. the live2d in the visual novel parts is... passable. Tone-wise, I think the story was a little bit all over the place and would like to see more of the horror that it opened on, but I didn't mind the comedic direction it went in either. The translation is completely seamless. The characters so far all have unique voices and are just super fun and cute. Of the ones who've had larger roles in the story so far, there's not a single one I dislike. It's all fully voiced in Japanese and the acting is solid. (I don't recognize any voices, and can't seem to find any seiyuu credits, so it seems they're not big names, but they deliver nonetheless.) Kaito in particular I found I was laughing at his lines a ton, both the voicing and the writing.

He's looking for a girlfriend btw. Spreading the word.

The problem is like. The gameplay is the worst dark-pattern microtransaction-riddled bullshit I've ever seen. Hundred passive timers going at all times. Fifty different item-currencies. Trying to get you to spend absurd amounts of real world money at every turn. There's like five different indicators that take you to various real-money shop items that I don't know how to dismiss the indicator, I guess you just have to spend money, wtaf. Bajillion different interlocking systems mean you have zero sense of relative value of all the different item-currencies. I did over the course of the day get enough diamonds for one ten-pull, which I haven't used yet. Buying enough diamonds for a ten-pull costs a bit under $60 (presumably USD, but there's a chance the interface is automatically making that CAD for me--not gonna spend the money to check lmfao), with an SSR rate of 1%. BULLSHIIIIIT.

There's like a goddamn thousand-word essay explaining the dozen different types of character upgrades and equippables and equippables for the equippables!! Bad! Bad game design! That's just overcomplicating bullshit to trick people into thinking they're doing something other than clicking button to make number go up! That is not gameplay!

In terms of the actual gameplay, there is none. The battle system is full auto. There might be teambuilding, but from what I've seen so far, most of that consists of hoping you pull good cards from gacha and then clicking button to make number go up. There's occasional rhythm segments but there's no original music, it's just remixes of public domain classical music lmao. I'd describe the rhythm gameplay as "at least more engaging than twisted wonderland's," which is not a high bar

At least there's a cat in the rhythm bit.

And like, ok, I gotta remark on how derivative it is. Like I mentioned in my post earlier, this game is unabashedly aping twisted wonderland's setting and aesthetic. (That said, most of the stuff it steals from twst is magic school stuff that twst also basically stole from Harry Potter, so...?) However, it isn't exactly like twst: in this one, the characters say fuck a lot and bleed all over the place and do violence. Basically, the tone is a fair bit more adult than twst's kid-friendly vibe. (Not, like, adult adult, and I probably wouldn't even call it dark--it's still rated Teen lol. Just more adult than twst.)

Rather than just being students at magic school, the ghouls also go out into the mundane world to go on missions where they fight and investigate monsters and cryptids. Honestly, the magic school setting feels pretty tacked-on. The things that are enjoyable about this would've been just as enjoyable in about any other setting--you can tell this whole aspect was a late trend-chasing addition, lmao. So, yeah, it's blatantly copying twst to try to steal some players, but... Eh, I found myself not caring that much. Someone more (or less) into twst than me may find it grating.

Character-wise, eh, sure, yeah, they're a bit derivative in that aspect too, but it's a joseimuke game, the characters are always derivative. Thus far the writing & execution has been solid enough that I didn't care if they were tropey. If I were to compare it to something else, I'd say the relationship between the protagonist and the ghouls feels more like that of the sage and wizards in mahoyaku than anything from twst. There's some mystery in exactly what "ghouls" are and their place in this world that has me intrigued and wanting to know more about this setting and how each of the characters feels about it. I have a bad habit of getting my hopes up for stories that put big ideas on the table and then being disappointed when they don't follow through in a way that lives up to my expectations, though.

So, my final verdict: I kind of just hope someone uploads all the story segments right onto youtube so nobody has to deal with the dogshit predatory game to get the genuinely decent story lol. Give it a play just for the story if you have faith in your ability to resist dark patterns. Avoid at all costs if you know you're vulnerable to gacha, microtransactions, or timesinks.

#suchobabbles #Tokyo Debunker #it's a global simultaneous release so I'm curious to see how it ends up doing in Japan #it's gonna be competing directly with stellarium of the fragile star which releases in a few days lmao. and is about a magic alchemy school #looks like the two games twt accounts have a similar number of followers #and then theyre competing with bremai releasing in may...#also adding this at the very end since i cant confirm anything:#but i found out abt this game bc it was rt'd by the former localization director/translator of A3en #i dont know if she worked on it or maybe her friend or maybe shes just hype! who knows! but i think her word (or rt) is worth something

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bad-and-drawn-that-way · 2 months

Text

Electric Love - Full Chapters

Want early chapters? Read on Ao3!

Chapter 1: Not What I Expected

Notes: Support me by reading on Ao3! Kudos and comments help motivate me to see multi-chapter fics through to the end! I'll be posting announcements for the updates here. Chapters will come out on Ao3 BEFORE tumblr.

Some shit in this will probably be really OOC, but it's fanfiction so who cares? Enjoy!

Word Count: 6090

It was a day in hell like any other. Flashing cameras, idiots who came to Vox with questions below his caliber, the whole works. The overlord was half tempted to cancel any appointments he had after the current debut he was waiting to go on stage for. The only thing he wanted was to go home and eat an obscene amount of junk food while he zoned out to reruns of one of the shitty soap operas that ran on one of his channels.

He could hear the crowd of anxious paparazzi and ass-kissers just past the stage as he pocketed his phone with a deep sigh. Ignoring the concerned crewman who signaled it was time for him to go on stage, Vox grit his teeth and stepped onto the stage, immediately adopting an entirely different persona with a practiced smile.

Cameras flashed and the crowd got louder as people cheered, shoved each other out of the way and paparazzi rapidly fired questions at him with microphones pointed his way. Vox resisted the urge to roll his eyes. You’d think that any experienced reporter with half a brain cell would know the chances of getting a response to such behavior was zero to none, and yet he was so familiar with the approach that it was boring.

Despite his disdain, Vox waved and grinned proudly as he stepped up to a podium in front of a large screen. "Hello my loyal audience and fans,” he speaks with a clear and confident tone. “Today we at VoxTech have quite the exciting announcement to make. For too long, we have been limited to regular television and radio media, well no more! Introducing VoxTube, the new innovative way to stream content and enjoy it at any time.." the crowd cheered and whistled louder at the sound of the word 'streaming' and then they all gasped at once during the reveal.

Vox paused to dramatically look away from the crowd for a moment, his eyebrows arching and the corner of his mouth curling up slightly, before looking back towards the crowd again with a smug grin on his face. "And now.. for the moment you've all been waiting for... the grand reveal!" Vox said as the crowd grew even louder with excitement.

Just as the screen behind him shifted to reveal the new platform, the screen flickered before showing a logo that was very much not his. In fact, it was the logo of the damned rival company that had been a thorn in his side for the past few months. “Oh for fucks, sake, not this again,” he muttered as he looked to the side to see his production crew scrambling behind the scenes to shut down the takeover.

The large screen was supposed to be demoing the “new” platform that was really just a rehashed regurgitation of an older platform. This was supposed to be just a quick cash grab, but now it was just a problem. Vox glared at the stupid halo logo as an unfamiliar, but jovial voice seeped through his speakers like a virus.

"Tired of being controlled? Tired of not being about to tell if your information is being leaked or if VoxTech is brainwashing you?" The voice asked as it revealed distasteful footage of mindless sinners in front of VoxTech products. "Then try Eternal Entertainment. Your anti-Vox streaming and video platform, completely free of VoxTech networks. Take back control of your experience!"

The crowd was silent as the screen played a jingle before going dark. It took all the self-restraint Vox had not to glitch out on the stage when he knew the cameras were still rolling. Immediately, the crowd had their phones out, downloading the new app. Reporter cameras were flashing as sinners got as close to the stage as they could. Microphones were shoved in Vox's direction as a dozen voices asked him about the new competition.

"Ah-ah-ah... Now, let's not be so hasty, hmm?” Vox turned to the crowd with a strained grin. “This so-called 'Eternal Entertainment' is merely slander propaganda! There’s no history, nor a face to the name of this company. There’s nothing to trust! At VoxTech, we care about users' safety and provide hell-wide coverage that this ‘competition’ simply can’t beat." Vox said, trying to convince the crowd that it was a mistake to download the rival platform.

"What about the rumors of Vox programs being coded with hypnotic influence?” A reporter asked as they shoved down another. “This new rival platform promises protection from the threat of corporate dating mining and influence. What do you have to say about that?" A reporter asked.

"Hypnosis? No no, no.. that’s ridiculous!" Vox scoffed, shaking his head as he tried to sound convincing. "It’s already been proven that any rumors about such malware were nothing more than scandalous lies created to discriminate against the powers of tech demons like myself,” Vox said, theatrically shaking his head as he played the card his PR team had him prepared for at all times.

“Look, you know you can trust and rely on the wonderful VoxTech. We have been nothing but honest and transparent... unlike those frauds at 'Eternal... uhh..'," Vox tried to remember the name of the rival platform.

"Eternal Entertainment!" Someone from the crowd yelled. "It already has 300,000 downloads!"

"See? That’s nothing!” Vox laughed with a strained smile. It was something. Low numbers for a platform overall, sure. But to already have that many downloads mere minutes after the hijacked debut? Yeah no, Vox was freaking the fuck out.

The crowd continued to get louder, and Vox felt anxious electricity thrumming through his veins. Everything was getting overwhelming and he only had so much bullshit he could come up with on the spot before he started contradicting himself. He continued to smile as his magic pulsed through the nearby cables of the stage as he searched for anything he could use as an escape. He found a security camera in an alleyway a few blocks over and put on a professional grin. He just needed a closing statement, and he'd get out of there. Easy.

"Well then," Vox cleared his throat and put on his best, most charismatic smile. "I promise you all, this so-called “Eternal Entertainment”, is nothing but a passing fad! It's just a desperate attempt by the competition to try and take you away from the best hell has to offer. The very best streaming and media..." Vox's eyes narrowed as he looked around at the crowd and his smile slowly faded. "Me."

The chaotic crowd suddenly fell silent as his screen flooded their vision with red and black spirals. The sound of a pin dropping would be deafening compared to the frantic clamoring that had filled the space only moments ago as Vox flooded the crowd’s minds with VoxTech propaganda and affirmations. Once he was content, Vox used the camera to teleport to the alleyway while the crowd was left temporarily mindless.

“F̸̛̫̝̉u̴͑͜c̵̮̀ḱ̷̩̆î̴̩͘n̴̯̬͐g̷̮͌̚ piece of shit m̷̨͙͗o̴̲͎͐t̸͉̜͒h̷̙̃e̶͎̦͋r̵̟͘f̷̱̄͒û̸̥ć̵̙ͅḱ̶̡́ę̷͎̄ŕ̵̠̳ś̶̝͗,” Vox swore as his screen glitched hard the moment he was out of sight. He continued to swear and vent out his frustrations as he kicked an empty paint can on the ground next to a dumpster. Fortunately, there weren’t any sinners passing by to witness his tantrum. He wasn’t in the mood to drop another fucker until they were brain-dead.

Once Vox got the rest of his frustrations out of his system, he collected himself and sighed. He pulled out his phone and opened the app store, cringing as he saw the rival app rising in the trending downloads. He closed his eyes and focused his abilities as his power surged through the network and hunted down the source engine running the app. With so many devices accessing the network, he was able to narrow down the location quickly.

"Perfect,” Vox said with a sinister grin. “Now to take care of this problem once and for all."

Any time he’d tried to hunt down Eternal before, Vox had run into dead end after dead end. He couldn’t track down the sinners running the rival software, nor could he track down any of their host servers. The hubris of his newfound enemy would be their undoing. Anyone in the entertainment industry worth their salt knew how easily things could be exposed upon release. By loudly announcing their debut when they hijacked Vox’s presentation, the company had left themselves wide open for him to latch onto the smallest flaws and hunt them down properly.

Vox wanted to destroy the place and make sure that their platform never gained any kind of popularity or power in Hell ever again. He finally pinpointed the location where the platform was being hosted and was pleased to find it wasn't anything impressive. There was no polish. The building didn’t even look like it was any sort of office or official business. If anything, it looked uninhabited. He pulled up the address on his screen to see what he could find out about the location’s history.

The building was a rundown observatory run by some random sinner he couldn’t care less about before one of the biggest exterminations of the past century. The neighborhood the building was near had been so thoroughly gutted by the angels that the entire area was abandoned due to superstition. Well… as abandoned as any corner of the overcrowded ring of hell could be. It was the perfect place for unsavory types to hide in the shadows.

Vox scanned the exterior and his smirk only grew as he took note of the lack of any sort of security. "This will be easy..." Vox said to himself as he locked on to a computer screen he sensed inside of the building. Wanting to get the drop on his cocky competition, he teleported his way inside the old, abandoned observatory. Vox was expecting a potential fight. Maybe guns. Probably a lab full of desk jockeys. What Vox didn’t expect was for his feet to barely touch the ground before he found himself suddenly in agonizing pain. His vision was clouded over with purple smoke and he heard the sound of glass shattering as his entire body short-circuited hard from the overwhelming pain.

Vox screamed, dropping to his knees as his systems malfunctioned from the icy-hot burning sensation shooting across his skin. His face bluescreened and his vision went dark. The last thing he heard as he lost consciousness was the sound of someone swearing and footsteps rapidly approaching him as he passed out.

----

Vox gasped as he felt his systems finally reboot. He ran an internal diagnostic as he sat up to look around, dazed and disoriented. The burning sensation had faded, but his head was pounding. His vision slowly cleared as he took in his surroundings. It looked like he was in some sort of office.There was a large, overflowing bookshelf by an open window and a desk with an impressive computer set-up on it. Vials filled with purple, sparkling mist were scattered around the entire room, all with different labels on them. The space was messy, yet somehow… cozy. At least, it felt more comfortable than the majority of the sleek areas of hell he was more familiar with.

Vox looked down and quirky an eyebrow as he held up the soft blanket draped over his lap. He tried not to think of what sort of diseases could be lurking in the old couch he was lying on as he processed the situation.

"W... what..? Where am I… How did I get here...?" Vox said as he blinked a couple of times, trying to remember what had happened before he lost consciousness. "What the fuck is this place?"

"Oh shit, you're awake!" A voice startled Vox and he tossed the blanket off of him as the door to the office pushed open. He hadn’t noticed that it had been cracked open, nor had he noticed you waiting for him to wake up out in the hallway.You’d been leaning against the doorframe and scrolling through social media as you waited for him to regain consciousness.

You stepped into the room, smiling sheepishly as you pocketed your phone, “Sorry, I didn’t want you to wake up alone and be confused, but it also felt weird to just sit in here. How are you feeling?”

Vox didn't know what to expect when it came to his new rival, but he couldn't have imagined you. Hell was full of sinners of all shapes and sizes. Vox had seen some crazy shit, but he’d never seen someone as… soft as you. You weren’t dressed to the nines or in some wild costume like most. Instead, you were just wearing sweatpants and an oversized hoodie with your hair pulled back in a messy bun. You looked like a burnt-out college student rather than a sinner trapped in hell.

“You know,” you smirk. “I may not have been the one running the campaign against you, but you may have wanted to take that whole anti-Vox thing a bit more seriously before just barging in here.”

"You're... the owner of the rival platform..?" Vox said as his eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes and no," you cringe. "Normally, I’d be chasing you out of here with a broomstick, but I might have royally fucked up and have no idea what I’m doing," you admit.

“What?” Vox asked flatly. He had been expecting tech bro assholes who would monologue at him in an attempt to piss him off. He’d been expecting the run-of-the-mill hellish power-hungry welcome he’d come to love tearing to shreds any time someone was stupid enough to try to overthrow him. He expected literally anything else but this.

“It… would probably be easier to just show you,” You sigh as you walk over to your computer and wake up the idle screen.

Vox stood from the couch and crossed the small office to look at the screen. It revealed that millions of sinners had already made accounts on Eternal Entertainment’s new platform, and a decent amount of accounts had already started uploading content. To say it was successful would be an understatement.

"Millions..." Vox muttered under his breath, feeling more and more threatened by the platform as he saw the success it was already having. "How the hell did you manage to pull this off?"

You chuckle, rubbing the back of your head nervously. "Yeah, uh, about that... I don't... know."

"You don't k̴n̷o̵w̵?̴" Vox flipped on you with a spark. His eye twitched as he tried to pick apart your game. Were you bragging? Were you about to threaten him? Were you a fucking idiot?

"Excuse, the fuck, me?” Vox growled as he grabbed your hoodie and pulled you forward. “Do you mean to tell me this was just some fucking pet project or some shit?"

"Yes and no?," you cringed as Vox made it clear how fed up he was getting with that answer.

Normally, you wouldn’t let anyone yank you around, but you’d dug yourself into some pretty deep shit. The guilt that came with that kept you complicit for the time being, but you still pushed his hand off of you.

"The truth is, I… made the platform,” you admit sheepishly. You’re quick to defend yourself as you see Vox’s expression fill with rage. “But I’m not the one who released it and I don’t work for Eternal. I swear!”

“You realize how fucking fake that sounds, right?” Vox growled as he felt his claws itch with the desire to rip you apart.

“Yup,” you swallow. “I understand the shit sandwich I landed myself in very much, Mr. Big Scary Evil Overlord Sir.”

“But,” you say as you pull back your desk chair and pull up your browser. “I have proof. If you don’t believe me after you look at it, you can kick my ass to your heart’s content. But I think you’ll quickly realize I do not know what the fuck I’m doing and I couldn’t have made this shit the way you’re thinking I did, even if I tried.”

Vox squinted at you with distrust as he looked between you and the chair. He grabbed the back of the offending furniture far tighter than was necessary and yanked it out of your hand as he sat down with a grumble.

He started scrolling through the history of your browser and clicked through the tabs you’d left open for him. It looked like you had signed up for some sort of coding workshop and had no idea what you had signed up for. What was poorly disguised as a hands-on tutorial for beginner video game coders to learn how to make mock platforms for marketing was a trap to lure in people to do Eternal’s dirty work. It was the sort of thing that would never pop up on Vox’s radar. It was obviously a scam to the trained eye and a weak attempt at throwing suckers like you under the bus.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” he said as he looked up at you incredulously.

Your face flushed and you looked away from him with an embarrassed frown as you crossed your arms. “Oh fuck off,” you grumble. “I’m broke as hell and it was a free course in an area I need to learn to make my games. It sounded too good to be true.”

“Because it was, dumbass,” Vox snorted as he shook his head and kept digging. He followed the data trail of the domain the workshop was hosted on and pulled up a few unrelated tabs that you hadn’t already pulled up from him so he could figure out how you’d discovered the suspicious content in the first place.

“Hey!” you gasp as you try to stop him.

“If you don’t want to end up an electrified shish kabob on the floor, you’ll let me work,” Vox said, not taking his eyes off the screen for a second as he installed some of his searching software to run in the background of your system.

You huff, watching him continue to dig through your computer before you turn on your heel and walk out. “Just don’t move or delete anything.”

Vox rolled his eyes as he continued his search. He quickly understood where your worries stemmed from. He hadn’t paid too much attention to your mention of it earlier, but it was obvious you were some sort of video game developer. There were folders filled with concept designs, dialogue chains, and amateur attempts at programming. It seemed while you thrived in the creator side of things, your tech knowledge was severely lacking. A quick invasive peek at your bank account showed that your funds were as well. You had big visions for someone with only yourself as a resource.

He paused as he opened a folder in your files that was filled with what appeared to be pictures of you and what he assumed were your friends. His eyes widened as he recognized several faces smiling innocently compared to the lewd expressions he’d seen them make in Valentino’s films. What caught his attention even more was the multiple pictures of you with Angel Dust and his little cyclops friend who had a knack for explosives.

Before he could dig any further into your personal life, several windows popped up to let him know the diagnostics had finished running the background.

Vox’s leg started to bounce with anxious energy as the reports from the programs he’d run earlier started to flood in. He immediately followed the trail of information and found several other websites connecting to Eternal that eventually led him to a secluded forum with all sorts of shady shit. He opened several threads that related to himself and the other Vees and inhaled sharply as he started to read through everything.

"Anti-VoxTech underground network…?" Vox whispered aloud. An anxious thrum of energy ran through him as he tried not to freak out. What if this person used the platform to spread propaganda against him or to leak information from his networks? What if this person was trying to destroy him from the inside out? His paranoia began to intensify and he felt small sparks licking at his skin when suddenly, a coffee mug was thrust in front of his face.

He looks up at you as you hold out one of two mugs to him. He takes it slowly from your hand as you look at him unimpressed, yet expectantly. “Thanks…?” He says slowly as he is once again thrown off by how much you didn’t match his expectations. He looks down at the liquid in his hand before looking back up at you distrustfully. For all he knew, your weirdly casual demeanor could have all been a trick. Poisoning him in the afterlife wouldn’t kill him, it’d just be a major inconvenience. Even so, he hesitated.

“Oh for fucks sake,” you roll your eyes as you realize why he was hesitating. You stick your pinky in his cup and pop it in your mouth to show him it was safe. “It’s just hot chocolate,” you huff before you take a sip from your own mug. “I was going to make one before you just zapped your ass in here and it felt rude to only make one for myself.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked the bewildered overlord over. “Shit, but your face… Can you even…? Wait no, that’s also rude. Fuck.”

Vox burst out laughing as you verbally tripped over yourself. Yeah no. There was no evil ploy here. You were just a weirdly endearing dumbass.

“I can drink,” Vox grinned as he finally lifted the cup to his lips. His eyes widened as he took in the unexpected taste. While he could eat and drink, he unfortunately had lost his sense of smell with his afterlife form. He wasn’t expecting the slightly sour tinge of raspberry syrup that mixed with the more standard flavor of the drink.

You watch him curiously and his eyes lock onto yours in an instant. Your face flushes and you turn away as you try to not-so-smoothly play over the fact that you had been trying to see how his mouth worked. “S-So, did you find anything?”

Vox sighed and set his mug down as he turned his attention back to your computer. “Yes, actually. Surprisingly enough, I’ve found more on your very shitty and outdated computer than my team has in the past six months.”

He ignores your offended protests about the quality of your setup as he looks through one of the forums. He ignores the way you lean into his personal space as you look over his shoulder and read the comments yourself.

“I just don’t get why there’s this large of an interest in working around my products,” Vox grumbled as the two of you read through the conversations.

You raise an eyebrow and peer down at him. "You and the Vee's don't exactly have the best rep with lower-class sinners. It may be hard for a big powerful dude like you to comprehend, but believe it or not, some people like their privacy."

Vox frowned as he begrudgingly sipped on his drink. He would never admit out loud how much it was soothing his nerves. “We’re in hell,” he reasoned. “Surely dating mining which pornos the average sinner watches to increase ratings and production quality isn’t the top concern these idiots have.”

You roll your eyes and sigh as you sit on the edge of your desk. Your hips carelessly pushed some things back, but you paid it no mind. “It goes deeper than that and you know it. Hell, I know it and I think this entire experience has proven how much of this shit flies over my head.”

Vox’s eyes drift to the vial you bumped with your hip and he pauses as he considers just how harmless you really were. While it was clear you weren’t the most program-savvy, Vox hadn’t forgotten the abrupt welcome he’d gotten when he tried to sneak in. Whatever that mist he’d been enveloped in was bottled and stashed all over the place. He still had more digging to do.

Sensing the shift in Vox’s attitude, your eyes follow his gaze and you cringe as you tuck the vial out of sight.

“So you’re not a complete idiot then,” Vox said as he placed his empty mug on the table and stood over you.

“That’s different,” you mutter as you shrink in on yourself and avoid looking him in the eye.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Vox hummed as his eyes sharply searched your features like a shark drawn to blood in the water.

His clawed fingers wrap around your jaw and he slowly makes you turn towards him. His grip was firm and the sharp edges threatened to break skin, but he was also somewhat gentle, after all, you had gotten him this far. A looming threat if you suddenly decided to stop cooperating.

“You deleted your visits to those forums in your browser history before you let me access your computer,” Vox said slowly as he watched your every expression carefully. You were avoiding his eyes, which meant you knew what he was capable of. “Why?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you say slowly as you try to keep your breathing even. You couldn’t afford to panic. “I probably just accidentally cleared it when I was wiping my cache or something. Aren’t you supposed to do that every now and then, or something?”

Vox quirked an eyebrow, looking completely unimpressed. “You’re not a good liar.”

“Oh fuck off,” you frown as you look up at him without thinking.

Vox grins and his eyes immediately spiral as he tries to pull you under his spell. You gasp and for a moment he thinks he has you… only for the spirals not to reflect back at him from your own eyes.

“What…?” Vox blinks as his grip on you loosens.

You smack his hand away and dive out from under him as you try to get away. Vox growls, whipping around and grabbing your arm before you can slip out of the office. You let out a startled yelp as he slams you against the wall and twists your arm behind your back.

“What the hell is going on? Who are you, really?” he interrogates as he twists your arm harder.

It didn’t make any sense. You were a walking contradiction. He genuinely didn’t sense any malice directed at him from you. Your search history barely skimmed anything relating to him. If anything, you had done more research on Velvette and Valentino, which he had to admit, in any other scenario may have bruised his ego a hair. You accidentally helped a rival company launch an attack against him and let him search your system without any hesitation, yet the second he locked in on those vials, you changed your tune completely.

Not only that, but you were somehow able to resist his hypnosis. He’d seen the faintest flash of connection in your eyes that told him you weren’t immune. Yet you had somehow managed to slip out of the hold he’d tried to cast over you within seconds.

“Let me go, asshole!” You shouted as you tried to slip out of his grasp. You hiss in pain as his sharp claws dig into your arm and draw blood.

“I don’t think so,” Vox growled as he tightened his grip and drew more blood. “What the hell is in those vials? And why were you on those forums in the first place? Tell me or I’ll rip your arm off.”

You bark out a laugh despite the fear, “With those fucking twigs? I’d like to see you tr-AH fuck! Alright alright!” You relent as he slams your head against the wall with his other hand.

Vox loosens his grip ever so slightly, but watches you like a hawk.

“Everything I’ve told you so far is true,” you start with a sigh. “I don’t know jack shit about most of your area in things, but I only found the workshop because I was on the forums.”

“And why would you be there?” Vox frowned. “You don’t have anything my company would care about on your systems. You’re a shit liar, but get any ideas of telling me it was for privacy out of your head.”

Your eyes dart and he can tell you’re trying to think of a way to weasel out of telling him the truth. Whatever it was, you really didn’t want him to know. Which meant he needed to know.

“Tell me,” Vox growled as he pressed you harder into the wall.

“V-Valentino,” you whimpered as the pain started to wear down your willpower. You weren’t exactly accustumed to this sort of experience despite your time in hell. You kept your head down as much as you could. You only dared to kick up dust for one reason and you’d done your best not to get caught for it up until now, but you had been careless.

“What?” Vox blinked as his grip relented.

“I,” you open your mouth, only to cringe. You really didn’t want to tell him, but if you double died without at least trying to pull something, it would only leave the very people you were trying to protect in deeper shit. Vox would figure it out after killing you anyways. Spilling the beans and trying to figure something out in the process was your only hope.

“The mist wasn’t mean to hurt you,” you say slowly. “I’ll talk, so fucking let go first.”

Vox watches you distrustfully, but releases your arm and steps back. He stands between you and the door, so he’s willing to play along if it means he’ll finally have the full picture.

“I don’t… pay much attention to hell’s politics,” you sigh. “I don’t care about power, I don’t care about overlords, but I do care about my friends.”

For the first time since Vox had gotten here, he saw something familiar flash in your eyes. The dark twisted bloodlust he’d seen in most sinners. “I don’t use my powers much,” you say as you walk over to your desk. “I’m not really trained to fight like most people down here. I’m cooped up in here most of the time, so it’s not like I’ve ever really had a reason to start shit.”

You pick up a vial and hold up your other hand as a small portal opens above your palm. “This is about all I can do,” you say. “I had a buddy who liked to research sinners abilities and I didn’t really care if he looked into mine.”

You had to bite down the fond smile at the memory of Baxter’s pestering. “He discovered that at low enough levels of activation, magic could be collected like a liquid or a mist with all his fancy tech shit. Again, you know how much of that flies over my head.”

Vox looked between your hands and nodded silently, watching you carefully as he waited for you to put together the pieces for him.

“Using the residue of my abilities, he tried to replicate that love potion shit you guys sell. He wanted to see if he could recreate it and then make a repellent.”

Vox’s eyes widened as he looked at the vial and it finally clicked. “It’s a repellent against Valentino’s magic.”

You wave away the miniature portal above your hand and nod with a frown. You hated every part of this, but at least he hadn’t killed you yet. “Like I said earlier, there's a high demand for slipping out under the Vee's control."

“Is that how you resisted my hypnosis as well?” Vox asked carefully.

“No,” you shake your head. “That’s something else entirely. No schemes or any fancy shit like that involved there.”

“Then why did the mist hurt me?” Vox frowned.

“Well, for starters,” you smirk at the memory. It had freaked you out pretty bad in the moment, but after the shit Vox just put you through, you kinda loved that he’d gotten his ass handed to him. “The guy I told you about was here and was trying to make a new batch. You literally teleported in the middle of us making the shit and knocked over the batch we’d been producing so it was heavily concentrated.”

“Secondly, you’re around Valentino all the time. When is that guy not blowing his slut smoke all around you?” You cross your arms.

“That…” Vox thought back to how often Valentino smoked his pipe around him. How used to seeing the pink smoke around him he’d gotten. He didn’t have a sense of smell so he was entirely immune to the effects. So much so, he had no reason to notice how it was completely seeped into his clothing and probably coating his entire body in an unnoticeable residue.

"Yup," you sigh. "If I had to take a guess, then that’s why.”

"And the reason you’d help your friend make this…” Vox trailed off as he remembered the pictures he’d found on your computer. You were friends with a lot of Valentino’s sex workers, including Angel Dust. Vox was a business partner, a friend, and sometimes a lover of Valentino. Valentino was notorious for the abuse of his sex workers. An abuser of some of your closest friends.

You frown, turning away from Vox, your body language acknowledging him as a proper enemy for the first time since he's broke in. "You get it now.”

He knew about Valentino and his history of abuse towards sex workers. He had seen his behavior first hand and knew the moth’s behavior was vile and repulsive. But the worst of it was never directed at Vox himself. Some of it, yeah, but… Vox hadn't really cared about anyone else. He had better shit to think about.

"I see…,” Vox hummed as he picked up another vial off the floor and twirled it between his claws. You really could benefit from some basic cleaning around the office. “So you’re planning on beating him at his own game." Vox said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you with a mix of suspicion and admiration. "Clever... very clever.."

You cross your arms, watching him sharply as you wait to see what he'll do about it.

"You got the information you wanted." You say flatly. He knew who was attacking him with your software now. The Eternity shit he’d found on your computer was a solid lead. However, he now knew of your efforts against Valentino. You weren’t a fighter, by any means, but you were prepared to protect yourself if you had to.

Vox's eyes narrowed as he looked at you in a new light. Your lack of personal interest in politics and the standard hell powergrabs had him intrigued. He wondered just what you’d be capable of if you did play the same game that everyone else did. It was clear you were resourceful and crafty, yet you directed those efforts towards something so… mundane.

"You’ve proved useful enough so far, and I thank you for that. Depending on your next answer, I may even let you keep your insides where they belong. So, let me ask you this..." Vox said, continuing to look at you with his eyes narrowing. "If those experiments are unrelated to my influence entirely, then how are you able to resist my hypnosis?"

Whether he meant to or not, Vox just handed you the key to your survival on a silver platter. Your eyes widen and you try to hide the excitement at the opportunity as you level your best poker face. “It’s pretty simple actually,” you say as you inspect your nails nonchalanetly. A bit too theatric, perhaps, but you were trying to play it cool. It didn’t matter that you weren’t actually succeeding.

“Hypothetically, I may or may not have discovered how to counter your hypnosis,” you hum as Vox’s eye twitched. “Hypothetically, I could sell that information or simply just post it to the Eternal forums. I’m sure everyone would love to know how not to get sucked into your marketing schemes.”

"You want to make a deal," Vox realized, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly and dead pixels flickered to life under his lip. This just got so much more interesting for him.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel vox #electric love series

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douma-daisy · 1 year

Note

hey hey! may i request a douma x demon! reader (can be either a common demon or a upper moon) where the reader is not annoyed with douma's behavior and is okay with the idea of being his friend? i hope none of this sounded weird, but if it did, it's just because i'm not a native English speaker 🕴️

Your english is perfect, don’t worry!

Muzan’s number one was sick and tired of his immediate subordinate. He didn’t know how Douma kept finding him, especially since, unlike the cult leader with a temple to call home, Kokushibo scarcely stayed in one place longer than a few days at a time. Yet somehow Douma always found his way to Kokushibo to bother him in the name of “conversation” and “friendship,” two things Kokushibo had zero interest in.

“Hello, Kokushibo! It’s been a while!” Douma greeted with his annoyingly wide grin after sneaking up on him while he was stalking around a forest looking for his next victim. He sighed. He usually wasn’t one to break his stoic character, but Douma was getting on his last nerves.

“That is… false. It has only been one week and three days since our last interaction,” he corrected as he turned to him, all six of his piercings red eyes glaring at him. “Please cease these unwanted visits, Douma, before it becomes an issue.”

“Why so cold, Kokushibo? I only–” Douma cut himself off when Kokushibo sprinted off into the night without a single glance back. He frowned.

“If you’re looking for someone to talk to, I’ve got time,” a new voice spoke. Douma turned to the source, surprised to see another demon hanging down from a tree branch, smiling at him. Douma tilted his head at them.

“And who are you?” he asked, taking a few cautious steps toward them.

“I’m (Y/N),” you answered, letting go of the branch and gracefully landing on the ground on your feet. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. You’re Upper Moon Two, aren’t you?” You tapped your cheek just beneath your eye, noting his marked pupils.

“Yes, I am,” Douma said, smiling. “Tell me, what are you doing here, (Y/N)?”

“I was looking for food when I heard you and Upper Moon One talking. At first, I thought you might be humans who’d gotten lost,” you explained.

“Oh, are you hungry?” he asked.

“Starving,” you said. “My blood demon art isn’t very useful for catching humans.”

“Then let me take you back to my temple. I have plenty of people to feed on there,” he offered, grabbing your hand and starting back towards his home, not giving you any room to refuse. Being a much more powerful and experienced demon than you, he could run much faster, so you struggled not to stumble as he dragged you along. After what felt like forever, you arrived at your destination and were finally given a chance to steady your balance as Douma led you to the door.

“Make yourself comfortable while I fetch one of my followers,” he instructed. You nodded and looked around, plopping down in a pile of pillows.

After your meal, as I’m sure you don’t wish to read about that, you and Douma continued to talk. As you did, Douma kept wondering when you’d say you’d had enough, that you were too tired to go on, that he was too much for you, but you never did. You talked until one of his attendants knocked on the door to tell him people were there to see him. He couldn’t believe how much time had gone by. He also nearly killed the poor man for interrupting his conversation with you.

“I should let you get back to your followers,” you said. I’ll be out as soon as the sun sets,” you said.

“No!” he said, grabbing your wrist as if you were already walking away. “Stay. Please. I want to talk to you again. I haven’t had someone to talk to like this in so long. Please stay.”

“Well, if you don’t mind,” you said, your cheeks faintly heating up.

“Then it’s settled! I’ll have one of my followers give you a tour of the temple while I’m busy, then we’ll meet back here tonight,” he said. You nodded. He clapped his hands together and smiled. “Great! I’ll see you then!”

#douma x reader #douma #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #upper moons x reader

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kichiyosh1 · 9 months

Text

┏♪━･━━･.━･━+☆.━･━･━♬━･━.･┓

KEI'S 500+ WRITING EVENT!!!

┗+☆+━･━･━. ━･･━♬━･━..━+☆+┛

Hello! Thank you so much for 500 followers! To do something special for you guys and as a thank you, I will be writing prompts that are listed down below. You may choose a prompt of your liking and send it to my askbox.

This writing event is also exclusively for Scaramouche/Wanderer.

Have a great day and enjoy♡

Purple indicates scaramouche/wanderer

01. "Pulling on my heart strings"

02. "Why do you think I stayed? It's because of you."

03. "I find red flags attractive."

04. "There are people I want to return to", "What about me? Are you just gonna leave me here?"

05. "Why weren't you there when I woke up?"

06. "We're a couple too you know"

07. "I'm actually a big fan of your body guard"

08. "This was an unexpected reunion"

09. "Get out of my sights" to "How are you still ignoring me when I'm literally right infront of you"

10. "We're not kids anymore, but I'll still hold your hand if you want"

11. "You're famous?!", "I wasn't even trying to be lowkey about it"

12. "Come with me, that's an order"

13. "Don't even think about coming in. Stay out"

14. "I was gone for just a few days?!", "yeah, and I went around half of teyvat trying to find you"

15. "You relieve my nightmares", "You are a nightmare"

16. I said leave!", "...", "are you actually leaving?"

17. "So it's a crime when I do it? The hypocrisy!"

18. "Jit tripping, literally"

19. "Don't you ever get tired?"

20. "You're chances are zero to none"

21. "Why'd you remove my name from your bio?"

22. "Honesty can kill a man"

23. "You're horrible at being discreet", "just be mine already"

24. "Two truths one lie"

25. "No need to get violent, but at the same time go for it"

26. "Dude, do you want a hug or are you trying to leech of my body heat?"

27. "I swear to the tsarista if y/n ends things with me, then its a public execution for all of you!"

28. "Are you jelous yet?", "Just want your attention"

29. "I will not give in to the devils temptation of affection!"

30. "What? I can be his fan too"

31. "Please tell me I did not just accidently unprivate my account"

32. "Shoo! away with you! I already have a lover!", "If you know then why are you shooing me away?!"

33. "Your the only one I need", "The rest of the worle can burn down for all i care"

34. "walk between the lines"

35. "You're cute when you're shy"

36. "Like hell am I gonna believe that zodiac compability shit"

37. "self hurt results to your love"

38. "Should've pulled you down with me"

39. "As long as it's you"

40. "Forgive me, but I'm not against it"

(all of these were ideas that I had ageing away in my drafts so yes I'm using this event as an excuse for them to finally be let free into the world)

#kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact x reader

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spitfire-of-the-sea · 11 months

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The Stowaway Series, Part 4: Karma

Guys. I know it's been *ages* but work is kicking my butt and taking away my will to write at the moment. (Thanks, science. No, it's great, please ruin all my hobbies for me).

Thanks for all of you who were waiting and encouraging me to continue. <3 The name for reader!Kitty is not yet fixed, if you have a preference, let me know in the comments!

And now, without further ado:

Find part 1, part 2 and part 3, if you want to read the beginning of this. =)

Word count: 3.4k Warnings: Still SFW. Just naked butts. Pretty safe, I think? Characters: Ace, Marco & Thatch… and cat!reader :D and Pops appearing, too!

The Stowaway Series, Part 4: Karma

You sat there, just watching them with zero thoughts in your brain for a couple of moments. Two grown pirates – one with a bounty of well over a billion, the other still with a respectable bounty of over half a billion – as they splashed each other with water and bubbles alike. Half-naked, of course, because none of them was wearing a shirt anymore.

What was this?! A Coca-Cola commercial?! What kind of freak pirate ship had you ended up on?!

You blinked slowly, your drenched fur slowly dripping water and making a puddle around you. A bubble slid down your nose and made you sneeze.

Or, perhaps, this was the male version of pillow fights…?

Somehow, right then a bucket smacked Ace right in the face and you thought that you probably preferred the more traditional pillow fights. Like, the ones that didn’t break your nose or anything. Not that Ace seemed to have any problem – if anything, it was the bucket that seemed rather worse for wear now. Slightly deformed, very much melting.

You instinctively ducked when a piece of soap came sailing towards your head and thanked your feline reflexes for saving you from looking like a Persian cat. You shuddered at the thought and slowly, one by one, your brain cells blinked back into existence. This brought with it the revelation that you were absolutely drenched and dripping wet, still bubbly, and very much in need of a proper rinse.

It did, however, also come with the realization that those two were currently pretty distracted and for the first time, you weren’t held by a half-naked man, surrounded by pirates, or incapacitated by water. This, you happily noted, was your chance to get out of here and find a place to hide away with your ninja-like skills. A place that was…-

“Did those two boneheads just abandon you like this, kitty?” the voice connected to the two hands that picked you up cooed at you.

Okay, so your perception wasn’t the greatest at the moment. So what?! You’d been through a lot, okay?!

With a deep, deep sigh, you just hung there in those hands that had closed around your ribcage, not even bothering to fight anymore. You were so done with this shit.

1/10 stars. Do not recommend. Service personnel is pretty hot but ultimately fails at its job.

“Shall we finish the job, hm? Maybe by the time we’re done, Marco will have scrubbed that feral little raccoon clean, too,” Thatch murmured and you were taken over to the shower he had just occupied.

And then… with a start… you remembered that he had been in exactly that shower like a moment ago and he’d been utterly naked. You also remembered that you had visually confirmed only minutes ago that he had a fine ass and the rest of his anatomy had also been pretty convincing.

On the one hand, for the sake of your modesty, you should be very concerned with the fact that he was probably still naked and you were about to enter a shower – also fully naked because you didn’t really count fur as clothes – with a man you had met less than an hour ago.

Had he saved your life? Yes.

But still. You were a good girl. (Or at least that’s what you usually told yourself. Most of the time.) You didn’t climb into showers for some naked and very splashy adventures until you were reasonably sure you’d actually end up having a good time.

On the other hand… you twisted in his arms and threw a curious glance down his front, your tail twitching in interest. If the rest of his body was any indication, he’d be…

Awwww. Covered with a towel.

“Miss Kitty, have a seat,” Thatch said and placed you on top of a little stool. You blinked up at him, not fully unsatisfied with the treatment. For one, he was being polite, and additionally, he had basically perched you on a little throne. Yes. Yes. This was acceptable.

Happy to hopefully get rid of the surplus bubbles you generously offered him a paw, somewhat ignoring the fact that you were supposed to be a simply stray cat, and he took it with a chuckle and started to rinse it clean.

“Or should I call you Lady, hm?” he asked and kneeled down next to you, very carefully washing all the remaining shampoo from your fur as you glanced down at him regally.

Admittedly, this didn’t feel too bad, you had your little perch, a pretty damn good-looking guy kneeling in front of you and basically giving you the finisher of a spa treatment…

Maybe you’d actually give them like… 5/10 stars after all.

Within a couple of minutes, you were actually pretty much clean and he turned off the water and stroked you with long, even movements to squeeze the water out of your fur. It felt quite heavenly, to be honest, and you might actually have started to purr a bit again…

Of course, you just couldn’t have nice things, could you?

Because this was when the door banged open – you were pretty sure some tiles cracked at the impact, and a freaking giant entered the room. And not to be dramatic… but he barely fit through that damn door and by your very modest estimate, it was probably four meters high. You started to look up along the legs. And looked up. And up. And.. still up.

When your gaze landed on a bare chest – what the fuck else, this ship apparently suffered from a severe cloth famine – you noticed enough scars to supply a full battalion of soldiers. And as it traveled even further up, you noticed a white captain’s coat slung over wide, wide shoulders. And as it finally reached a face, ducking in below the doorframe, you saw a white beard.

White.

Beard.

You made a gurgling sound as all the air in your lungs suddenly rushed out of your body and you went first stiff, and then hot, and then felt the fur all along your body desperately trying to puff up against the forces of the remaining wetness in your fur.

Oh no. Oh no no no. This was Whitebeard. The legendary Whitebeard. The guy who’d fought the Pirate King and lived to tell the tale.

“I’m hungry,” he said by way of greeting, “and the boys told me to come here.”

The pressure in the room was almost overwhelming and your feral instincts kicked in before a single brain cell could so much as put a word in in favor of reason. He’d eat you. He’d fucking eat you. He was Edward Newgate, the famous Whitebeard. They’d cleaned you up to serve you to their bloodthirsty captain who ate babies and cute kittens for breakfast!

With a battle scream, you exploded out of Thatch’s hands onto the floor and barely managed to land on your feet in your blind panic. In a feat of pure elegance, you somehow tripped over your own tail only one step further, resulting in you face-planting on the floor for about 0.1 seconds, because that was all the time you allowed yourself to waste. Digging your claws into the tiles, you pushed off and actually propelled yourself onto the wall, just below knee height for the giant between you and survival. If you hadn’t been so busy not getting eaten, you’d have complimented your athleticism.

“What the…-,” Thatch managed to say by the time you took the second long leap towards the door.

You’d manage. You were swift. You were like the wind.

“Flight risk!” Ace screamed when you did your third leap and pushed himself off the floor to rush after you. Fate was in your favor. His foot landed on a bar of soap, his eyes widened comically, and his leg was pulled out from under him as he slipped. You’d have appreciated the beauty of it, probably, the arch his body described as his ass went up and his upper body went down and he landed – hard – on first his shoulders and then his head. You heard something crack and faintly hoped it wasn’t his head. It was pretty.

“Not so fast-yoi!” Marco chuckled as he plucked you out of the air in your fourth leap without breaking a sweat, wrapping a towel around you at the same moment. “And here I thought you were getting used to us.”

There was a select choice of words on the tip of your tongue. Among them were several that were connected to a certain part of his anatomy and the places he could shove it. You were not gonna be eaten! You’d scratch their eyes out! You’d carve your name into their faces! You’d fight until your last breath!

You had claws! You were a ferocious tiger, no matter how small! You had the devil’s power…! You… fucking… couldn’t get out of the towel!

“Now, what’s that?” Whitebeard asked, his tone rather surprised than particularly hungry.

“A cat,” Thatch answered helpfully and ambled closer, toweling his hair dry as he walked.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe you should turn back into your human form to show them that you were not a cat and therefore, should not be eaten. Perhaps you should declare that you were not a virgin, either, just to be absolutely sure that they wouldn’t think you were useable for any sort of ritual or for feeding to the giant or…-

No. No. That was dragons. Dragons ate virgins.

What did giants eat?!

“I can see that,” Whitebeard answered, somewhat exasperated, and ducked lower to get a better look at you while you were fighting to get out of the towel. Your claws sliced through the cloth like a hot knife through butter and yet you just couldn’t get free. You shot a wild look at the giant captain.

You were no more than a snack for him. Surely, you weren’t even worth the effort!

But maybe it was no effort. He’d swallow you whole. Like that famous whale at the start of the Grand Line, that supposedly swallowed ships whole. You fought with renewed ferocity and Marco clicked his tongue at you, fighting to keep you under control.

Ace slowly tried to get up again, clutching his hands to the back of his head. “Ouch.”

He was still alive, then. Good. At least you thought it was good…? Perhaps…? At least you hadn’t gotten any cat-eating vibes from him.

The sounds of fabric ripping below your claws announced how close you were to freedom and Marco cursed under his breath, juggling you from one hand to the other to avoid giving you a chance to latch onto one of his fingers.

“Is anybody going to tell me why there’s a cat?” Whitebeard asked finally, his tone surprisingly even.

“It’s our new cat,” Ace said, rubbing at the back of his head. There were tears in his eyes as he tenderly felt around for the quickly forming bump.

“Our cat?” Whitebeard prompted, slowly sounding less patient.

“Yes,” Ace confirmed. “Spot.”

You sank your teeth into a piece of towel and ripped at it, glaring up at Marco, who reached for a second towel, frowning. “She doesn’t have a single spot-yoi.”

“I see lots of spots,” Ace muttered and blinked slowly. “I knew it all along. The soap almost killed me. Told you it causes more harm than good.”

“Your head is way too hard for that. You’re fine. Also, I think Whiskers is a far better name,” Thatch threw in.

Personally, you thought they were both pretty shit. With a low growl, you twisted in Marco’s hands, managed to graze his index finger with one fang, and then were rolled into a second layer of towel. You didn’t feel entirely unlike a burrito.

Heh. A Purrito.

You were hilarious, even when you were 5 seconds away from being eaten. But you were not about to give them any ideas.

“Would you stop that?” Marco asked you with a sigh. “It’s just Pops-yoi.”

“Fluffy?” Ace suggested and slowly came to his feet. Even upside down and pretty sure something horrible was about to happen you could appreciate that the drops of water glittering on his skin and slowly sliding down his very defined abs made him look fine as hell.

“Killer,” Marco threw in and you glowered, wiggling yourself forward and out of the towel wrapped around you millimeter by millimeter. You were still contemplating the idea of turning back into a human – both to be able to think straight again and to maybe tell them that you wouldn’t stand for such ridiculous names. Ah, and the detail to please not eat you or do something else horrible.

Thatch leaned forward and booped your nose. You snapped your jaws at him but he was too quick for you, you didn’t even manage to nick him. “Catness Everclean,” he happily suggested and you couldn’t help it, you rolled your eyes.

So he read those types of books, huh? Probably also read romance novels and smut. You scoffed.

“Boys…,” Whitebeard said with a tone that you knew pretty well from your father. It was the tone he used when he was down to his last nerves and he was between giving you up for adoption and accepting his hand in making you the person you were. Your ears twitched.

“Can we keep her?” Ace asked, slowly coming closer, one eye squeezed shut and with one hand still at the back of his head.

“I don’t think…-,” Whitebeard started.

“Look how cute she is!” Ace immediately continued and grabbed you out of Marco’s arms. Still covered in one layer of towels, plus a few stripes of the first one. You tried to twist but his grip didn’t give an inch.

His effort was admirable, really, but with only your face visible in the layers of towels, and your eyes almost popping out of your head from the effort of fighting for freedom, you probably looked more deranged than cute.

“We already have a dog,” Whitebeard answered slowly.

You hissed, sounding somewhat suffocated. Probably due to the lack of air in your lungs at this current moment.

“Somehow, she reminds me of Ace-yoi,” Marco muttered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Is she trying to kill us? Sure. But in a slightly deranged and yet charming kinda way. You can’t really be mad at her. It’s cute, in a way.”

For that, he got another hiss. Sadly you couldn’t give him the middle finger right now. Which was probably good, you reminded yourself, he was an evil pirate, after all.

“Lady Floofiness,” Ace said as if he had heard nothing. When he tried to kick Marco who stood beside him, the older commander simply moved out of his way. “Once she’s dry, you can see for yourself. She’s really pretty and very, very gentle.”

Okay. You were pretty happy he hadn’t cracked his skull open. He was pretty cute. Plus, he probably wouldn’t let you get eaten. You hoped. At least he was your best shot in this room.

Marco snorted a laugh. “Gentle? She tried to amputate my finger. Again.”

“You held her wrong,” Ace hissed under his breath. “You need to support her…-“

“Butt. I know-yoi,” Marco answered with a shake of his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

What was this fascination with your butt?! You had a pretty great one, sure, but in your human form. That you were not about to show them. You had decided so. Perhaps your animal instincts had been a bit overwhelmed by the giant standing at the door, but you slowly lost the fear of somebody wanting to eat you.

Or perhaps you were just going numb. Whichever one.

You squinted up at Whitebeard, who was looking at you with a frown. His beard twitched as he regarded you and you quickly reversed direction and instead of trying to get out of the towel, you buried yourself deeper into it, away from his prying eyes.

“Stefan might not like it,” he finally said.

“He likes Kotatsu just fine,” Ace countered. “And she’s much smaller, won’t take up any space. She can sleep in my cabin.” He started to slowly unwrap you and you grabbed one corner of the towel and tried to hold onto it, suddenly not desiring freedom so much. Freedom meant having no barrier between you and those piercing eyes.

You were still holding onto the towel desperately when two giant fingers grabbed you by the scruff of your neck and picked you up. Gulping, you winced when your body went limb, suddenly unable to do anything but stare at the giant man who had picked you up. He held you in front of his face and you held your breath. This was it. This was the end.

He opened his mouth and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Goodbye, cruel world. I’m leaving you today.

“Stefanie,” he said then and you slowly opened one eye back up.

A brief moment of silence, then Thatch cleared his throat and Marco shuffled his feet, searching for words. Ace was less polite. “That’s a shit name, old man,” he blurted out.

“Fluffy isn’t much better,” Thatch murmured and Ace shot him a glare.

“Says the man who suggested Catness Everclean-yoi.” Marco crossed his arms in front of his chest and shook his head.

“Yeah, and Killer as a name for a teeny tiny fluffy cat clearly wins a prize for creativity,” Thatch shot back.

Marco shrugged. “We can also call her Calamity Jane, seeing as how she made Freckles almost crack his head open, made you bleed for the first time in, what, four years? And has actually managed to nick my skin here.” He lifted a finger with a frown and you could see a tiny drop of blood there for a moment before blue flames engulfed it and it was gone in the next moment.

Thatch, who saw the sparkle in Ace’s eyes, quickly shook his head even as he took a look at his forearms and registered with some surprise that you had indeed managed to scratch him. He dabbed at it with the end of his towel, still shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”

“I think it’s cool,” Ace weighed in and came to stand just below you, holding his arms out expectantly. You curled your tail around yourself and hoped that you’d indeed be handed over again. Ace was the one who held you in the most comfortable way – by far!

To be fair, perhaps you hadn’t given Marco much of a chance with your little panic attack.

But that was hardly your fault. You were in a room with Edward Fucking Newgate, also called Whitebeard. Also having the highest bounty in the whole of the fucking world. You were pretty sure a little panic was justified.

“You just like it because it fits into your little card naming scheme. Ace. Spade Pirates. Spadille. Calamity Jane,” Thatch accused him and when Marco raised an inquisitive eyebrow, he shrugged. “Queen of Spades? Calamity Jane?”

“Oh,” Marco made and rubbed at his chin. “Then no.”

“Hey!” Ace snapped and lifted himself on his tiptoes to reach for you.

You honestly shouldn’t feel so relieved at the guy heartily grabbing your butt, but at least Whitebeard let go of the scruff of your neck and you dropped into Ace’s outstretched hands. Gulping down a shiver – not quite successfully – you were happy when he brought you close to his chest again. Especially since he didn’t seem to mind that you were still wet.

“I haven’t said yes yet,” Whitebeard reminded them with a sigh. “At least I know now why they were all snickering like idiots when they sent me here.”

“You also haven’t said no yet,” Ace reminded him with a grin and started to stroke you with long, calming movements. Eyes unblinking and brain simply overloaded thanks to the last hour, you lay there against his chest and contemplated whether this was karma. Whether perhaps you had stolen one too many times from the rich and given to the poor. Mainly you, actually. But you were poor.

Ugh. You needed a cocktail with lots of rum and a cigarette.

And you didn’t even smoke.

#kitty!reader #stowaway series #reader x one piece #reader x Ace #reader x Marco #reader x Thatch #whitebeard crew #marco the phoenix x reader #ace d portgas #crack fic #kitty needs a cocktail after this #I feel like the others were funnier v.v #I hope it's not too boring for y'all!

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sgiandubh · 5 months

Note

I am not a shipper, just not what I see when I look at all I have seen over the years. However, I am truly appalled at the amount of Sam hate I see on so many Tumblr blogs. I don't understand why anyone would follow his career and map out every move he makes if they hate him so much. Their criticism of his acting is always the same, but I would bet none of them has ever done any acting or knows how actors train and prepare. It just makes me wonder what brought them here in the first place. I would never waste so much time and effort on an actor I don't like. Makes zero sense to me.

Also seems to me that everyone in this fandom has decided what they think/believe and cannot seem to have a normal discussion or disagreement at all. Believe what you want- I have no hate for anyone myself. I just come here for fun and to follow two actors I really like. I am sure Sam and Caitriona really never intended all this chaos when they took these roles.

Dear Not a Shipper Anon,

I hope you know, by the time I answer you, that you landed on an ultra shipper page and I also hope you can live with this detail. Barely joking, here - and yes, I decided to give you space and a short answer, because even if non shippers believe I am either a totally retarded, brainless idiot or (at a minimum) the devil incarnate, I am still open to different POVs than mine, as long as they are politely expressed.

If you do not 'see' them together, that is strictly your problem and loss. We, as a group, do not 'see' it either: we know they are together, have been so for a very long time, and still managed to make the relationship work, despite a long list of ehrm, oddities that would seem unacceptable to many. Among us, chances are we do not agree on everything, yet the essential is we all know they are not just co-stars, but so much more (lovers, partners, parents come to mind).

You are correct. I think it would be impossible for you to change my mind about it, as I have no intention of changing yours. We already entered Year Eleven of this saga and by now any dialogue between Antis and Shippers is completely impossible. Also, I am not very friendly towards 'shippers on the fence', who usually follow/share and comment also on the more prominent Anti blogs (BCAC, CRT, Moo, Purv). These people are usually blocked, because I simply can't with stupidity and lack of integrity rolled into one.

So yes, there is a lot of hate. Directed mostly towards S, because he is (and will always be) the main object of desire in this very feminine fandom. And make no mistake: all the women hating S desire him. Deeply. Impossibly. This and also simply being nasty people IRL - I can easily think of one or two legit Fascists, but will control my anger and refuse to name names. Last, but not least, I am going to tell you a secret, Anon: they are not very bright, either. Parochial fools, which I suggest you ignore.

I am sure S & C never knew what they were up to when they took this once in a lifetime opportunity. And I am also positively convinced they had no idea it would last for so long. I can only hope they have, by now, all the support they can use. For all the rest, they have each other.

The picture below has absolutely nothing to do with my answer to you, but I have promised @robinshill a picture I took in the Old City of Kashgar showing its savage destruction by the Chinese bulldozers. If that was the situation in June 2010, I can only imagine it now. Imagine and weep.

#Anon #fandom

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thegreymoon · 3 months

Text

The Story of Minglan

I've had a horrible three days but now that Shakespeare is temporarily done with ruining my life, I can finally go watch the aftermath of Molan and Lin Qinshuang digging their own graves. This is the most satisfying part of the show so far but IRL bullshit just won't let me seeeeeee 😭

***

The two of you have ruined your lives so thoroughly but you just don't realise it yet 😕

***

You stupid child.

You have accumulated so much grudge and resentment here. You don't know your limits but you fucked around and I suspect you will be finding out soon.

***

Delusional.

***

Ah, yes, but it was Concubine Wei that died. It did not affect him personally because he cares about nothing except his own dick and ego so it was easy to sweep it under the rug.

This time, the damage was to him. You are done for.

***

Oh, you stupid woman. Nobody will fall for that now.

You have sorely overestimated yourself.

***

Oh, Jesus.

She still doesn't understand what she's done.

First of all, Lin Qinshuang is a servant in this house. She has no rights or freedoms and Wang Ruofu will be out for blood. There is no chance she would just let her get out and go live happily ever after somewhere else. Second, Molan doesn't seem to understand that she will have no standing in her new home. None whatsoever. Zero. She personally has no money, no connections and her in-laws resent her already. They will not move a finger for Lin Qinshuang after her shameless scheming forced their hand like this.

They are both screwed.

***

This wedding has all the cheer of a funeral.

But then again, it may as well be one.

***

Oh, shut up with "Darling Hong" already 🙄

I know I should be feeling sorry for Lin Qinshuang but she has been so vile and so obnoxious and has done all this to herself, so empathy is super hard to come by.

***

Cold 😬

All of Molan's and Lin Qinshuang's wrongs not withstanding, I still believe that he is still primarily to blame for all this.

***

Well. She is now firmly in the Finding Out stage of Fucking Around.

The thing that strikes me about Lin Qinshuang is that she was definitely very capable of scheming and manipulating within the back courtyard, but she thought that the same rules applied to the outside world and that she could get away with her bullshit on a larger scale too. She is about to find out just how wrong she was.

***

Wait, is he actually going to kill her?

***

You fucking piece of shit. When do we get to kill you?

Yeah, she was evil and yeah, she did what she did, BUT YOU ARE JUST AS RESPONSIBLE, IF NOT EVEN MORE, FOR ENABLING HER TO DO IT. He did not care until it came back to personally bite him in the ass. Who cares about some dead woman and her baby? Who cares about a neglected and mistreated daughter? All the injustice and unfairness? As long as he is comfortable and getting his dick wet, he is just fine with turning a blind eye!

This is exactly my problem with Song Qiutong in 2ha. Yeah, she's a vile person and yeah, she has blood on her hands. But Mo Ran is the one who let her, who gave her the power to murder and abuse. Plus, yes, she may have been the one to betray the Rufeng Sect, but he's still the one who razed it to the ground. Who is he to pass judgment upon her?

***

Oh, so he didn't kill her?

But, yeah, her life of luxury is over. She is in for a very miserable existence. Molan will not be able to get her out despite her best intentions because she doesn't even realise yet how she herself is also screwed. And Changfeng is also incompetent. She is done for.

***

Yeah, I knew that the servants who aided and abetted Molan were not getting out of this alive.

I still don't understand how they even agreed to do something so stupid, they must have known it would not end well for them once this was discovered. Such a huge risk and I'd be surprised if all servants didn't already know just how disposable they are to their masters. But maybe they didn't have a choice? Would going behind Lin Qinshuang's back and reporting her have saved their lives? Or would they still have been caned to death just to shut them up?

***

Good job, Minglan!

I'm not sure your mother would be proud, but I certainly am!

***

Ah. Just like she didn't get a doctor for Madam Wei.

#the story of minglan #tsoml spoilers #tsoml ep33

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boyfhees · 2 years

Text

⌕ MY LOVE MIX UP | h. iwaizumi

PRECIS. the chances of you confessing to your crush sums to zero when you realise you have to pretend to have a crush on iwaizumi, just to help your friend hide her feelings for him. ( 22.1k )

GENRE. fluff, humour, minor angst

WARNINGS. satirical mentions of dying and killing i'm sorry, one ( 1 ) break up but it isn't even real tbvh, reader is insecure, iwaizumi ( he deserves his own warning ) very cute at some point like you'd want to close the app ig, iwa is too good to be real ( he isn't real ) they're all second years. tatsuya and hayato are some random guys, kyoka is reader's best friend

NOTE. hi 😭 i originally wrote this for another fandom but had iwa in mind all the time so here's to him. ( if you've read the og pls ignore this i am not creative ) oikawa im sorry ( fr this was so hard to write as an oikawa kisser lawl ) happy reading. ps. very slightly inspired from kieta hatsukoi

“hey, pass me your eraser.” you whisper to kyoka, who was busy having her head in hands because of the maths practice question paper lying in front of her.

she deadpans, fetching a spare eraser from her pencil pouch. “you haven’t returned me the pen i lent you, yet,” but when have you ever returned her stuff you borrow, except a few times. she’s your best friend and there’s an unspoken rule that everything that belongs to her is yours, and vice-versa; even though she strongly disagrees.

you expect her to help you either way. call it the payments for all the times she has borrowed mangas and books from you, and never returned. it’s normal, the give and take in your friendship is astronomical. what you don’t expect is for the eraser to have a name written on it and wait— it’s someone from your class? because as far as you remember, the only ‘ih’ you and kyoka are familiar with, is iwaizumi hajime.

a sense of superiority floods your head as your lips curl into a menacing smirk. finally, some good news, and good enough for you to blackmail your best friend for a couple of months, at least. she’s not the type to confess without prior stressful, crying sessions, which takes quite some time. you’re so busy in your thoughts, you don’t notice falling down when iwaizumi turns around, passing you the question paper. moreover, you also fail to notice when iwaizumi picks it up and places it on your desk, until he turns back again with a surprised grimace.

“huh?”

you stare back in confusion. “what?”

“that eraser,” iwaizumi gulps, eyes fluctuating between you and the eraser in your hand, with visible panic evident on his face. “it had my name.”

“no, it doesn’t.” that’s a lie. “you’re mistaken.” he’s not.

no one wants to lie at nine in the morning, right before a practice test, especially to someone who you’ve never talked to in your whole life; unless people are crazy enough to lie pathologically as a passion. you, however, happen to do the same, in hopes he would believe you.

but iwaizumi is sure he saw his name on your eraser. not only his name, but a heart as well. ‘ih ♡’ that’s what it said, and he’s certainly assured that it’s for him.

“i’m not. i’m sure i saw my name,” at this point, none of you care about the practice test. he’s trying to prove his point while your mind is lost amongst the field of excuses, looking for the right one.

“no, you didn’t. you’re mistaken!” gaslighting is definitely not the right excuse but, that’s the best you came up with, in seconds. the look on his face tells you that he isn’t buying your words. you slowly feel the situation grip out of your hand, every second burdening on your shoulders as you hope for iwaizumi to give up and move on like nothing ever happened.

“then, show me the eraser,” iwaizumi demands, eyes fixed on you for a response. he trusts his instincts, he should, he isn’t lying. you don’t know him at all, but you know that if he wants something, he gets it, no matter that. “if i’m mistaken, then show it to me. i’ll check myself.”

and so he does, snatching the eraser from your fist as he looks at you with a knowing gaze. there’s amusement in his eyes, a glint of pink resting on his cheeks, but that’s from the winter cold.

“no way, yn, you like iwaizumi?” that’s tatsuya, and this shouldn’t be happening. you whip your head around, looking at him as he seizes the eraser from iwaizumi’s grip, taking a better look at it. “who would’ve expected?”

no one, exactly. you don’t even know iwaizumi. he’s just a classmate, someone who’s popular in the whole school but not in your eyes. you respect him for his grades and talent, but you’ve never paid him any attention. instead, your mind has always revolved around tatsuya, forever looking at him in a room full of angels, to put it in better words.

“listen, it’s not mine.” yeah, it’s better to not lie; not in front of tatsuya. why is he here in the first place? tatsuya sleeps through his days at school, no matter how important the classes are, and somehow still manages to score good marks. he’s a miracle, a work of art, epitome of intelligence and beauty, a true angel. your heart overflows with love for him.

“who does it belong to?” iwaizumi counters, and you don’t want to answer. honestly, you could do way better if tatsuya left but like a curious cat, his eyes hover over you for a response.

“it’s—” a pause. you can’t possibly disclose your friend’s feelings, that’d be unfair to her. and you, well, you have no option but to lie and save yourself a good friendship. “mine.”

you don’t look at iwaizumi’s face. you simply don’t have the courage to do that. so, you get to the practice question paper lying on your desk, reading through algebraic equations while your brain is enmeshed between maths, your friend, and the person you’re pretending to have a crush on; all in the presence of your actual crush.

you’re pretty sure you bombed the test royally.

there’s no way you’d score in double digits, for your brain was ( and still is ) busy distressing over the two biggest problems of your life. first, the boy you never talked to in the two years you spent as a highschool student, believes you have a crush on him; and second, your actual crush also believes you have a crush on iwaizumi.

great, things couldn’t have been any better. moreso, out of all the people, it’s iwaizumi. you don’t hate him; god, you don’t think you can ever. he’s too nice, almost as a saint. probably the nicest person you’ve met till. he treats every girl he rejects, as an ‘apology’. which may be a good thing since he doesn’t seem to like you, so it’s a free treat for you, but that’s besides the point.

he’s so nice, you feel bad for lying to him. confessions may not surprise him anymore but the look in his eyes explained that he took every word you said to his heart. see, that’s the problem with excessively good people. you can’t lie to them, and if you do then the guilt corrupts your head, constantly making you feel bad about yourself.

he’s warm, friendly, enthusiastic, outgoing, easy to please. he’s quick to show appreciation, yet accepts without judgement or criticism, the human weakness of others. that’s iwaizumi to everyone in the school, including teachers and staff.

“hey,” you greet awkwardly, eyeing the students in the hallway to make sure no one is gossiping. mayhaps, you’re overthinking but iwaizumi is pretty popular and you’d rather not get involved with him. “let’s talk.”

now, iwaizumi doesn’t know why he needs to follow you to the terrace. you can talk right here, in class, or near the volleyball gym for the lack of better space. anywhere, but terrace. though, iwaizumi doesn’t refute. he follows you closely, as if you’ve casted a spell on him. iwaizumi doesn’t harbour romantic feelings for you, he’s sure, and had it been someone else, he would’ve already turned them down. no ‘let’s talk,’ and no ‘following them to terrace,’— but you, for some reason, make it harder for him to be his typical self and follow his classic rules.

you shut the door, looking around to check for unwanted presence on the terrace. this is easy, it has to be easy, you have a plan. it’s simple; you’ll tell him that this whole situation is nothing but a massive misunderstanding. you don’t have feelings for him, the ‘ih’ with heart on the eraser is actually izumi hashima— and you don’t know who izumi hashima is but you’re going to lie again, and say she’s your best friend’s older sister who you had taken a liking to as an elementary school student. it sounds perfect in your head, dodging all pits of failure.

“so, about the eraser—”

“i don’t like you,” iwaizumi blurts out, interrupting you in between while you stare at him wide eyed because this was not in the plan. “i mean, i do like you but not in that way. you seem like a good person, we can get to know each other and. . .”

rest all is a blur. you don’t focus on his words, for you’re too busy admiring him, platonically. not only has he got a handsome face and smart, wrinkly brain, but he’s painfully kind. if kindness was a crime, he’d get a death penalty. no wonder, the students in your school treat him like a god, and would make him their new religion at any given moment, if offered the opportunity to. “ah, so this is why it’s so easy to fall for you,”

you can’t believe you just mumbled that out loud; and even if you did, you’d like you believe you didn’t, until you saw his flabbergasted grimace. “it’s not how it sounds!” right, you think he’d believe you after your silly little confession. you sigh, giving up before you make it harder for you to sort this out. “just— forget any of this happened, okay?”

“are you sure?” iwaizumi counters.

“yes, very sure.” infact, you haven’t been sure-er about anything else till date. “and, don’t tell anyone either.”

that’s a peculiar request. well, for someone who gave closures to rejection using meals, iwaizumi doesn’t know what is right in this situation. his plan was to treat you this evening as an apology, but you rather possess a different request. you want him to pretend like this never happened, and iwaizumi wonders if it’s so much easier to discard your feelings. “why do i feel like you’re going to cry when you get home?”

“i won’t, and even i do, that's my problem. just, don’t bring this up ever again,” you didn’t mean to lash out, but frustration gets the best of you, and you don’t want to spend another minute apologising or rather, striking a conversation with him. “if you have nothing more to say, i’ll leave first.”

you simply walk out, without giving him any opportunity to speak. today has been crazy. iwaizumi still hasn’t processed the entirety of the prior events. how did you even fall for him? he knows he has quite an attractive face and a very intricately built physique. however, looks are secondary to interactions, and you’ve never really talked to him until today.

perhaps, it was when he lent you his umbrella, or when he lent you his notes, or when he thanked you for helping him in art class. it has to be one of those because none of you have ever talked besides those three times.

he doesn’t get it, is it easy for people to fall for someone just because of looks? or to put it in your words, is it really easy to fall for him? most importantly, do you not mind disregarding your feelings and asking him to forget it? it’s strange, and while he would eventually end up forgetting it, he doesn’t understand why you’re so . . . unbothered.

iwaizumi has met all sorts of people. the ones who follow him around to get attention, ones who confess and guilt trip when rejected, ones who deliberately throw themselves at him, ones who understand and move on, but you don’t fit any of those categories. you don’t fit his definition of admirers and even though it may seem like he’s overthinking, he’s not. iwaizumi doesn’t know why he cares so much. in fact, you’ve made it easier for him to handle this ordeal. he doesn’t need to spend his money on you to shut your mouth and not talk about anything related to their confession to anyone. ( you see, that’s the reason why no one ever hears a news about iwaizumi being confessed to again, unless someone is brave enough to give a public confession )

he kicks the stray stone lying around on his way back home, hands in his pockets while the thought of you keeps bothering him constantly. he has way too many questions and absolutely no time to waste, however, upon much consideration, a conclusion lands on the palm of his hands — it feels like you’re rejecting iwaizumi, despite being the one to confess first, and god, you don’t know how much that irks him.

“yn, you’ll be late if you spend another minute fixing your hair!” your mother shouts from the kitchen and honestly, that’s the plan: getting late and skipping school. you don’t have a reason, well you do, but it lacks the logical aspects.

the reason— iwaizumi. did he turn you down? yes. did you tell him to forget it? yes. do you trust him? no. despite being one of the nicest guys to ever walk on earth, iwaizumi doesn’t look trustable. you’re afraid he would’ve spread the news to everyone, his friends, your friends, you’re scared so much that you haven’t opened group chats ever since you woke up. besides, there’s tatsuya. he practically lives for drama. tatsuya is a soul of honesty, but unfortunately, he has a sneaky, thievish, sinister look— making it harder for you to trust him entirely.

despite your subtle attempts, your mother ends up kicking you out of the house before you delay even more. for a brief second, you consider skipping school and spending the whole day watching movies or something. you’re down, almost, until you hear a familiar voice chanting your name from a distance.

“you’ve been avoiding me since yesterday,” kyoka pants, hands on your shoulder to prevent you from running away again.

“uh, i have?” you shoot her a crooked smile, trying to think of a convincing excuse. you’ve been so busy amongst your thoughts that you forgot about her. “by the way, your eraser—”

“oh, you saw it, didn’t you?” she mumbles, averting her gaze to a cat passing by as you both enter the school premises. “i like him so much but i’m scared to confess.”

“it’s okay, you have my support,” you should be scared, you want to say. while, that’s not how a supportive friend must react, considering iwaizumi’s history with confessions, everyone should be scared of confessing to him. talking about iwaizumi, you don’t spot him anywhere, which is actually a good thing. maybe he called in sick, or even better, changed schools, even though it makes no sense.

the first class goes just fine and you thank the higher deities for it. unfortunately, or fortunately enough, tatsuya didn’t come to school as well. maybe, both him and iwaizumi met up and shat on you but it’s fine, as long as others don’t know about it. maybe, it’s not as fine as it seems since your eyes are burning to see tatsuya.

god must really be on your side because you haven’t seen iwaizumi all day, and neither have you come across even a speck of gossip about yesterday’s events. his seat remained empty in front of you as you unknowingly spent the whole day thinking about him. perhaps, you’re worried; is he the one crying at home? that’s unlikely. you decide to skip your last class and move to the terrace, enjoying the cold breeze from last night’s showers.

standing here, by the edge of the terrace, makes you feel like a main character; as if you have a perfect life, and a perfect lover, and a perfect future to grasp, it’s premeditated, yet interesting. even though none of it is true, a person can dream. it seems way to perfect until you’re pulled back by a hand around your arm, almost stumbling. before you’re framed against the wall beside you.

“what do you think you’re doing?!” fantastic. suddenly, you don’t want to be the main character anymore because there’s iwaizumi, and you’re standing close to him, very close, so close that you can feel his breath fan over your face. “are you crazy? do you really plan to end your life over something so trivial?!”

you panic because of the close proximity, stomping on his foot as he yells, stepping away from you. “what are you talking about because i don’t plan on dying anytime soon, iwaizumi hajime!”

a pause, everything goes silent. you hear the breeze, you have one of the prettiest boys of your school crouching in front of you because you stepped on his foot deliberately. this seems like the perfect setup for a marriage and a murder, and you’re heavily considering the latter.

“wait you aren’t—”

“no, i’m not dying and why are you even here? i thought you called in sick or something.”

“we had a game. i thought tatsuya told you,” he clarifies, standing up while shooting you a sour look. as for tatsuya, he happens to be the manager for the men’s volleyball team. it’s funny because oikawa picked him over fifteen other girls who applied, all because of two reasons: first, he’s on good terms with tatsuya and second, it’s better to have a guy try to get on your nerves rather than a girl fangirling over the crew. besides, it’s a win for tatsuya too, who does nothing but sleep at school. “i always come to the terrace after a game.”

he adds, and you wonder if it’s a good thing to have in common with him. again, you don’t trust him because you’ve never seen him on the terrace; and you happen to be the official resident of your highschool terrace, so notorious that you’ve also received detention for invading prohibited boundaries.

“i also come here, sometimes,” you mean multiple times, everyday. why you’re here talking with iwaizumi is beyond your comprehension, but for some reason, you’re not against it. it doesn’t feel forced or frustrating. in fact, his presence is rather calm, and you think it’s because he’s tired from his match. “so, did you win?”

“by 3-2, yes. i’m starting to hate metre spikes, though, for some reason.” that sounds awfully familiar. you’re not accustomed with volleyball terminologies, however tatsuya happens to vent to you about the same every now and then. it’s funny for iwaizumi to hate dinks, despite being a spiker himself. besides, you’ve heard a few people talk about how iwaizumi apparently loves metre spikes.

“that’s—” he proceeds to speak, interjected by footsteps approaching the rooftop.

“iwaizumi—” oh, no. you knew things were going too well to be true. “ooh, okay, i’m sorry for interrupting you two love birds but cap’ needs you downstairs, ‘iwa. be quick.” tatsuya has awful timing. he could’ve been the person to think you’re planning to jump and save you but no, he had to arrive much later, right when you and iwaizumi are standing next to each other, looking like decent friends or rather, like ‘love birds’ in tatsuya’s eyes.

he winks at your ‘boyfriend’ and you die a little on the inside. tatsuya is more excited about you and iwaizumi than the two of you. honestly, excited isn’t even the right word for you both. you just want to stay away from him and iwaizumi, well, whatever the hell he has going on with him.

“you should go,” that’s the best you can come up with, to end the conversation. you don’t need him around, that was the original plan. to ignore him, and have him ignore you. you know iwaizumi isn’t responsible for this misunderstanding between you and tatsuya. however, you can’t help but criticise him in the back of your mind.

“yn,” he calls out, though slightly quieter than usual with a hint of hesitation in his voice. “about your confession, i think rejecting you was unfair. so, let’s get to know each other first, and then i’ll give a final response.”

what. just what in the world— okay, you’re calm, you’re trying to be calm. you hear his footsteps fade away as he bids you goodbye with a soft ‘see you around’ and no, you strongly disagree. you don’t want to see him anywhere near you, not when tatsuya is convinced that you’re dating iwaizumi and you’re trying to come up with ways to break the truth to him.

you see, you have abilities to do miracles, like creating more problems for yourself while trying to solve one. it’s funny how you arrived to school delightfully, knowing the two boys who can possibly fuck up your life are absent, only to go back home with a fake ‘boyfriend’ thanks to yourself.

YOU'RE CONSIDERING changing schools, really.

ignoring iwaizumi doesn’t help. he’s too hashtag deep into getting to know you better that he accompanies you almost everywhere. your mornings for the past three days have been commencing with iwaizumi and ending with him as well. moreso, you have people looking at you while you commute through school as if you’re on a red carpet. you wake up and greet your a couple hundred new followers on instagram who have you added in a group called ‘iwaizumi shrine.’ it makes sense. the school's most popular boy, who has never shown interest in anyone, suddenly started talking to you and acting like you’re his top priority. it makes completely, hundred percent sense. you’d be curious too if your favourite celebrity suddenly started hanging out with some random person.

it’s like a revolution and you don’t want to be a part of it.

“tired?” kyoka asks, sitting next to you by the track field. “looks like you’ve gotten busier.”

yeah, you have, and the pain is visible on your face. you want to get back to the days when people paid you no mind and continued with their life. waking up to a bunch of notifications and post-it notes on your locker, asking for iwaizumi’s number or one of his exclusive pictures is draining you out; and surprisingly, you don’t have iwaizumi’s number in the first place. “kyoka, help me,” you whine, leaning onto her shoulders as she shoves you away.

“i’m sure the gossip will die down in a few days,” enjoy the fame while you can, yes. you know she was going to add that too. however, this isn’t fun. as much as you’re enjoying this special treatment from iwaizumi, it feels as if you’re walking on eggshells; like your life resonates between the flight of bumblebee and hall of mountain king as your theme songs.

besides, kyoka likes iwaizumi and you’re practically deceiving her. even though she knows you and iwaizumi as just friends, that’s simply what you wanted her to know. she doesn’t know he’s trying to get to know you better for the sake of a relationship, or that iwaizumi knows about the eraser but he thinks you have a crush on him instead of kyoka.

it’s a mess, and it’s hard trying not to break someone’s heart. she doesn’t know the truth. she doesn’t even know you have a date with iwaizumi after school.

“whatever, are you going to audition for that cinderella play?” oh, right. you forgot about it. you don’t have a picturesque memory either way and iwaizumi is simply making it harder for you to focus on things that are not him. you’re sure kyoka would say something along the lines of ‘you’re down bad,’ if you ever told her about your dilemma, and honestly, you are. you are down bad to escape iwaizumi, get out of his life or just get him out of yours; whichever is faster and easier.

“are you?” you counter as a football rolls near your legs, your eyes following the player following it shortly. it’s iwaizumi, and he— wait, he plays volleyball, so why is he on the field playing in the football team? whatever, it’s none of your business anyway. you pass the ball, a soft thank you slips off his lips as he runs away. a pause, you are getting ideas and maybe, maybe iwaizumi is about to become your business if you put enough effort into it. “do you think iwaizumi will audition for prince charming?”

you see her smirk as he nudges your shoulders. “why, are you planning to be his cinderella?”

“what? ew, no,” okay, maybe the ew was an exaggeration. though, the thought of you being cinderella when he’s prince charming makes you want to puke. “i’m just asking because he’s the most suitable candidate. besides, you can audition for cinderella.”

oh, you feel so smart for coming up with the plan : have them casted, they kiss and fall in love. probably the smartest you’ve ever been. cupid has a competition and it’s you.

“why would i audition for cinderella if—” she pauses, lips curling into a smile as her eyes set on something behind you. kyoka doesn’t waste another moment, proceeding to stand up and pat the dust off her uniform. “senior,”

you feel the air around you shift.

“hope i’m not interrupting something,” she’s quick to shake her head in denial, the smile never leaving her lips while you witness the whole scene from the sidelines. “i was hoping you’d audition for cinderella in the play. no pressure, just that your performance was great in last year’s play,”

“ah, of course, i would. are you audi—”

a frown sets on her face as the supposed ‘senior’s’ phone rings. you feel the air shift, yet again. “i have to answer this. see you in the club room later!”

“see you!” you’re not sure what you saw. kyoka, your friend, the kyoka who’s known for decking people in her first year switched personalities like it was her favourite colour. “turns out, i’m auditioning,”

yeah no, you couldn’t care less about the senior or the personality shift. at least, he made your job a tad bit easier. now, all you need to do is convince iwaizumi.

“do you need something?” iwaizumi asks, grabbing his earphones from the locker. now, how do you explain that you need him to audition for prince charming’s role so that you can set him and your friend up?

“oh, nothing? i was just curious about what you were doing,” and iwaizumi hajime is actually gullible enough to buy that. honestly, your excuse is not baseless, considering how you both are in the ‘talking stage’ of the relationship. “have you heard about the auditions for the cinderella play?”

he nods, closing his locker. “yes, matsukawa is one of the hosts. why do you ask?”

“uhh, i was wondering if you’d like to audition for prince charming?” you could’ve voice it better. you know, more confident, making it sound less like you’re plotting something. you’re in no state to answer any questions, if he ever asks.

he blinks, and then blinks again. a few seconds bask in silence and you’re ready to apologise but iwaizumi beats you to it. “will you audition for cinderella?”

as proven, you’re in no state to answer questions, especially that one. why would you even audition for cinderella? first of all, you can’t act to save your life. second of all, even if you could, you wouldn’t audition when iwaizumi is the most probable candidate for the main lead. “why do you ask?”

“i’ll register if you audition for cinderella,” nah, ain’t no way iwaizumi hajime just did that and walked away like he didn’t just flip your head upside-down. you turn around, watching him waltz through the hallways like king louis xvi or something. at this point, you’re simply resisting the urge to yell at him.

you almost give up. almost.

you’ll get a number of opportunities to set him and kyoka up together, maybe the luck isn’t on your side. moreover, iwaizumi is the only suitable candidate for prince charming in your eyes. there’s no way the theatre club is accepting someone else if a man like him is breathing among the peasants. so, in the end, they will cast him no matter what. yes, you’re right, they will.

but what if they don’t? you hate your mind for holding onto that question and making it your living crisis but truthfully, you have this situation under your control. all you have to do is audition and surprise, iwaizumi’s already casted. besides, you do feel bad for backing off when you can literally save everyone some time and help them for your greater good.

all you have to do is audition, it’s easy, like a cakewalk, taking a lollipop from a kid. maybe not the last one since, kids these days are animalistic ( you’ve heard a few barking on streets ) it’s still easy, very easy.

you can do it.

yes, you can do it.

you have another plan. all you have to do is go to the stage and give the most mind-rotting, heart-stopping, life-ruining audition ever. you have to unleash the unskilled actor inside you, make it look like you can do anything but act. you have to drag the cinderella role around and make it seem like even the one playing as the tree in the backdrop is a better actor than you.

yes, it’ll leave you embarrassed. you’ll actually have to switch schools, probably; but it’s fine, as long as iwaizumi gets the prince charming role.

“alright, next.” one of the club heads announce and surprisingly, the senior from earlier today is present as well. you watch the participant walk up the stage and god, everyone auditioning for cinderella looks drop dead gorgeous. “kim tatsuya, you’re auditioning for cinderella?”

“yes.” he replies.

“why?”

“do you think there’s anyone else who fits the role more than me?” you almost scoffed out loud. the confidence? the charm? the smirk on his face? he fits the role of evil step mother more than cinderella. while waiting for your turn, you search for kyoka, remembering you haven’t seen her in the club room at all. a part of you wonders if she dipped— even though she isn’t like this— you couldn’t help but worry about your whole plan going down the drain.

you excuse yourself out of the club room, halting by the neighbouring classroom when you see a familiar figure sitting by the teacher’s desk. “kyoka?” turns out it’s actually her, and you release the breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding in for a while now. “what’s wrong?”

despite doing everything for your own good, you couldn’t help but worry about her. kyoka is perhaps the most self-righteous person you’ve ever met, in a good way. she’s confident in herself, she knows what she’s capable of and what not. she’s not afraid to try, even if she thinks it’s beyond her limits. so, seeing her all alone like this, it felt just like failing a test of a subject you’ve mastered.

she looks into your eyes, a hint of hesitation settling on her face. “yn, i’m scared. everyone here is so good.” you want to laugh, not the right timing, but you want to.

“no, stop. you’re better. you received the best female lead award last year, you can do it.” you assure, and it’s really funny coming from someone who’s probably the best candidate for cinderella’s role, saying that she’s scared. you wouldn’t say other participants auditioning are unskilled, neither do you know if there’s anyone out there who’s better than her. however, little do you know that your performance is definitely going to make her confidence fall back at her feet for kyoka to pick it up.

“yn, they’re calling you inside.” one of the club members informs you. a sigh spins into the air as you look at your friend, nodding as she shoots you an assuring smile. you can do it. you’re going to give your worst.

“yn— oh, you’re kyoka’s friend!” the club president exclaims as soon as you step in front of perform and ironically, it’s the senior; something hayato, as his jacket says. “i’m looking forward to your performance.”

yeah, no don’t. you don’t want anyone to look forward to anything you’re going to do for the next five minutes or so. this is about your reputation, your dignity, your highschool life, and everything else. and, how you had dreamt of a highschool life like in those movies, peaceful like quilts falling on glistening water; but, after all, movies are just movies. real life is much different, because right now you’re going to embarrass yourself in front of everyone for your best friend and the guy she likes.

“i’ll start,” you shook an awkward smile, a deep breath, it’s now or never. “here . . . kitty kitty kitty kitty . . . c’mon kitty . . .” a pause, your voice dies of shame and regrets. “Lucifer! come here—” that was so loud, you practically see a few people flinch.

“wait, wait,” one of the judges interjects, shuffling through their script. “which scene are you enacting?”

you cock your face to your left, awkwardly. “the opening scene?”

hayato sighs. he’s probably regretting looking forward to your performance. “no no, do that one. the one with the prince, where cinderella runs away.”

you get in stance, clearing your throat for another life-threatening performance. “oh . . . but i must go—”

“stop,” the judges interrupt again and this time, you’re fueling with anger. maybe if they didn’t want you to perform, they shouldn’t have added your name in the first place. “yn, there’s the passion?”

“i’m giving my everything, tatsuya.” what a liar.

“you aren’t giving shit.” tatsuya deadpans, rolling his eyes as you stand with your hands on your hips as if you’ve just served an oscar worthy performance. “you sound dead inside, as if you didn’t want to go to the ball in the first place.” no he’s right, you didn’t want to. you’re the only cinderella in the whole world who wants to avoid the ball and the prince, at all cost. you are, in fact, dead inside.

“alright, let’s try again—”

“no, thank you.” you refuse, or more like, take your time and try your shot at getting out of this place right now. “that’s all i had. i hope i get selected.” funny, very funny. only fools would select someone as talented as you for a play that’s supposed to be streamed live on the school's youtube account.

you rush your way outside the club room, ignoring the giggles and murmurs that followed. it’s fine, you anticipated this and brought this upon yourself. you don’t know why you feel bad, though. maybe because everyone is making fun of you, or perhaps, it’s kyoka and how she’s finally going to get the role; happy tears, for sure. or maybe, it’s because of iwaizumi. maybe you expected him to be there, no matter how ugly and unclassy your performance was. after all, you did it for him. he asked you to audition, and for someone who wants him out of their life, you sure are more upset than you should be.

“i was looking for you,” you look up in the direction of the voice, eyes residing upon iwaizumi as he hands you a bottle of water before standing next to you, by the classroom window. “i thought you wanted to watch kyoka’s performance.”

you chuckle. you don’t need to be there to know she’d do great. you just know it. she has always been the ideal student and it’s for a reason. “i know she’ll do amazing, as always.”

“are you jealous?” it’s a question that catches you off guard. you don’t know where it came from, or what made him think you’re jealous of kyoka. she has a lot of qualities, and honestly, you have wished for wanting to be like her; but jealousy is not the right word. “sorry, that didn’t sound right. but, you did your best, too. it was good.”

you laugh, and it’s probably the only genuine one so far today. ‘doing your best,’ it’s funny. you know you could’ve done better, you are better, but you did it for your friend, for him. you don’t know if iwaizumi means his word. you’re not sure if he actually found your performance good or if he’s consoling you just for the sake of it. it’s probably the latter, however, you’re thankful for it, even if it’s just fake comfort.

“thanks?” yeah, it’s just fake. after all, everything so far is fake. the confession, the rejection, it sounds scripted. maybe, this is the most you and iwaizumi have talked till date. you do want to stay away from him, you still do, but today can be an exception. “are we still down for today?”

you didn’t mean to ask that. you don’t know why you asked that, but when you notice the corner of his lips curl up, you realise that it was the right move. “the date? of course.”

thinking about it now, you haven’t seen iwaizumi smile. well, you have, but not with you. not like you are a reason for him to smile, but you’d be lying if you say you don’t find his smile pretty. it’s adorable, especially the way his nose scrunches up and the way his eyes close completely when he grins. it’s cute, you think, and then find yourself too stunned to think further when you realise you just called him cute inside your head.

“uh, i’ll go.” yeah, it’s better to leave. you’re losing your mind after talking to him. god knows what made you think staying around iwaizumi was a good idea.

“yn,” he calls your name, having you turn around to look at him. “see you later.” and lord, your heart might’ve just done something unspeakable.

it’s arrhythmia.

you’re sure it’s arrhythmia because ain’t know why you’re experiencing increased heartbeats all of a sudden. you’re glad you had only half the classes or you would’ve fainted. to be honest, your current stance isn’t any better. you’re here outside school, waiting for iwaizumi to come so that you can go to the cafe together for your silly little ‘date.’ you can’t believe you had to lie to kyoka about it.

on another note, he’s late. you’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes. you didn’t know school’s heartthrob has no punctuality. you wonder if the teachers would get upset if they know that their favourite boy makes his date wait for over fifteen minutes. you’re about to give him a call when your phone rings inside your pocket and coincidently, it’s a call from him.

“hi yn, i’m sorry for being la—”

“hello to you too mr. iwaizumi hajime.” you cut him off, slight mockery evident in your tone as you feel him hesitate on the other side. “if i may remind you, we have a date.”

you hear him sigh through the phone. “i know, i’m sorry. i didn’t know the coach would hold us back for extra practice. if you want, i can try asking to leave early.”

“no, please. i’m joking. you don’t have to skip practice for me,” you smile, pacing around the school exit. well, normally you would’ve been feral but logically, it would be a waste for him to skip practice for a date that isn’t even real. “i’ll go home. we can go out some other day,”

“no wait, yn. at least let me walk you home,” that’s completely, totally, certainly, unasked for. you don’t know whether you should be happy or sad, or going crazy and dancing in the middle of the road. “we had to cancel our date so let me make it up to you. do you mind waiting for another fifteen minutes?”

“no.” it’s a quick response, one that leaves you surprised at yourself. you do mind waiting. it’s getting dark, you don’t know why you said you didn’t, and that too fifteen minutes. even so, you can’t bring yourself to say the truth.

“great. i’ll be there soon,” you feel him smile through his words, reciprocating a smile back without your knowledge. “wait for me.”

and so you do. you could’ve waited in the library or some nearby cafe or the volleyball gym itself. however, you stayed where you were : by the exit. of course, you’ve had a fair share of students and passers-by shoot you with varied looks of concern, but you successfully fooled them by pretending to be on a call, or so you think. it’s crazy how you’re here wasting time on a boy you want out of your life. you hate how you’ve only known iwaizumi for a little over four days and discovered parts of you that you never knew existed before.

you wouldn’t say you like him, but he’s not a bad guy either. iwaizumi was never the wrong option in your eyes, honestly. he’s simply not the right one for you. there are differences that you can’t ignore, and certain things about him that you loathe. for example, how time seems to pass slowly when he’s not around.

“yn!” finally. an involuntary smile makes its way to your lips as you hear a familiar voice approaching you from a distance. “did i make you wait for too long?”

you chuckle, looking at iwaizumi, who’s panting for air. his hair is in a mess, the chains on his bag aren't fully done, and from looking at the bottle in his hands, you realise he didn’t even drink water after practice. “i don’t know, you tell me.”

“i’m sorry,” your smile grows bigger at his soft apology.

you pat his shoulders, navigating through the streets illuminated by dim street lamps. “it’s okay, i was joking.”

“by the way, i got selected for prince charming’s role.” suddenly, your smile vanishes into thin air. you don’t know why that happened. in fact, you should be happy. kyoka and iwaizumi acting together in the play, it’s what you’ve wished for the whole day. this is what you sacrificed your reputation for and yet for some reason, you find yourself forcing a smile at him. “and kyoka as cinderella.”

“isn’t that amazing? she’s good at what she does,” it’s not a lie and sungoon knows that. if there’s something you’ve learnt about her over the years, it’s her sheer determination. you snicker, thinking about the morning when kyoka said she was ‘scared’ to audition. looking back at it now, maybe that was just a prank to mock you, even though she would never do that. it truly is amazing, watching the prince charming and cinderella come together. “you both look really good together.”

on other days, you would have regretted saying that. however, today you don’t have any plans on taking it back. what’s true is true, and there’s no point denying it. “i wouldn’t be surprised if you both receive the best actor and actress this year,” another forced smile, another wave of suspicion passes over iwaizumi. “you know, for the couple event at the school festival, you should participate with her. she’s really good at games, just like you. besides, she thinks you’re cool so—”

“what about you?” the question leaves you speechless, fiddling with your fingers as you bite your inner cheeks while thinking of a response. “what do you think about me?”

god, it’s back, the arrhythmia.

at this point, you don’t even care about the question. you’re worried that if iwaizumi kept staring at you like this, you’d pass out. “me, uh, why does it matter?”

“it does. it matters to me.” you can’t defend yourself anymore. iwaizumi knows his way around with words. he doesn’t talk much, but he says a lot in the way his eyes look at you. though, unable to interpret his gaze, you find yourself experiencing a funny feeling in your chest as your face heats up alarmingly. “why do you keep recommending kyoka to me? you don’t like me anymore?”

once again, you’re taken aback. you can’t tell the truth, and you don’t want to lie. so, you simply recite the facts. “i mean, i do but, isn’t kyoka better? she has good grades, she’s pretty, she’s good in extracurricular activities, she's everything that i’m not. why do you even bother going out with someone like me?” maybe, that’s a lot of facts in one. it hurts for you to say those words, but at the end of the day, it’s true. being with iwaizumi wouldn’t change the fact that kyoka deserves him more than anyone else in the whole world.

“she’s not you,” he gulps and for the first time, you sense fear in his voice. you don’t know why, you just do. “she gets good grades, she’s good in extracurricular activities but she’s not you. and i like you, not her. so, don’t even use the ‘someone like me’ phrase for yourself ever again.”

before you realise, you’re already in front of your house. actually, you’ve been standing here for around ten minutes, just too lost in each other to even notice. you’re not sure if you process his words completely or correctly. all you know is that you’ve made a mistake, and now his words are stuck inside your head. he mutters a faint goodbye before proceeding to walk away, leaving you with all the uneasy feelings intoxicating your heart.

“by the way,” he says, making you flinch a little as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt while awaiting his words. “you are beautiful.” and then all you can recall is falling for the boy who never belonged to you in the first place.

AFTER MUCH consideration, you’ve reached the conclusion that you haven’t fallen for iwaizumi. your heart is skipping beats because of arrhythmia and you’re persuading your mom to get you an appointment.

you simply can’t fall for iwaizumi. he’s way out of your league ( see, you’re not shy to admit that ) besides, you don’t know each other. you don’t know about him but to you, iwaizumi is just an ideal classmate, or a close acquaintance, at most. moreover, here comes the best friend’s code : you can’t crush on your best friend’s crush, let alone date. you sleep with your guilt plagued mind everyday, knowing you and iwaizumi are in ‘love’ behind your best friend's back.

“yn,” you feel a push towards your shoulders, driving you out of your thoughts to find tatsuya looking at you with concern written all over his face. “what are you thinking?”

you shake your head. “nothing,” another lie. well, you’ve been lying a lot recently. you don’t remember creating high walls of lies around you in just a few days, with only iwaizumi knowing the way in, but again he’s looking at another lie you’ve made him believe.

“take a break if you need to. the play will start in a few minutes,” right, the play. you’re excited to see iwaizumi and kyoka steal the show. you’re dying to see them receive best actors award for the night. you’re dying to have the annual school magazine print their picture on the front page. you’re excited for them, or so you tell yourself.

it’s embarrassing to know that somewhere inside, you feel a little bitter about the whole crew picking iwaizumi without any recrutionary procedure. you don’t think he’s a bad actor, god, you can never. you haven’t seen him act but there’s nothing that boy can’t do. there’s a rumour spinning about how his mother was one of the best actors in Tokyo's best theatre crew. though, you don’t know how much of it is true.

but, that’s beyond the point. you don’t need to find his family history to know that he’s talented in all aspects. it’s crazy how similar iwaizumi and kyoka are. you’re about to discard all those thoughts and continue with the procedure until you hear the commotion in the hallway.

“we have— oh my god, yn, thank god you’re here.” matsukawa takes a breath of relief, walking towards you with a hopeful stare. “iwaizumi has sprained his leg, we need a replacement.”

now, that isn’t the issue you want to deal with around ten minutes before the play. “what am i supposed to do about it?”

“do you know someone who can fit the role?” he questions further.

you’d be lying if you say you’re actually thinking of someone as a replacement, for your brain is too busy worrying about iwaizumi as his injury. call it the godsent timing, because just then, your eyes fall upon the boy standing across the room. “how about hayato?”

“what? who, me? no,” he declines with an awkward laugh. “i have terrible stage fear. i’m sure no one wants to see a prince charming with overflowing anxiety.” yeah no, he’s right. besides, kyoka will be upset to know that not only is she working with a substitute prince charming, but also, he has chronic anxiety.

“but they want a handsome prince charming.” matsukawa isn’t half wrong either. they never held auditions for prince charming, proceeding to pick iwaizumi as if the rest of the population is a joke. hence, the audience doesn’t care about skills, but rather, the looks. “just practise your scenes. we’ll pre-record your lines and schedule the play as the closing show.”

matsukawa turns to look at you. “yn, can you please—”

“i’m sorry, do you know where iwaizumi is?” the question falls off your lips almost immediately, without giving him any chance to speak. you hear something along the lines of ‘school backyard’ as a response and sprint as if it’s the race for your life.

it’s basic human decency, you presume. had it been someone else, someone you haven’t even seen, you would still run, almost tripping and bumping into people. you would still grab a bunch of bandages and relief sprays from the medkit in the staff room if this were about someone else. it’s not just iwaizumi, you tell yourself. he’s not special, especially to you.

“geez, did you forget to walk to something?” you snicker as soon as you spot him sitting by the stairs, browsing through what looked like twitter at the slight glance you managed to steal.

iwaizumi chuckles. “you look tired.”

“yeah, i ran here from the other side of the school and almost tripped thrice on my way here.” you feel him snicker at the irritation in your voice while you take a look at his ankles and start dressing— by the way, you notice that he has pretty toenails; and after recalling how pretty his fingers look, it makes you wonder if he gets his mani-pedi done every week or so. “gosh, do teachers know that their favourite student can’t even walk to save his life?”

“are you worri—”

“of course, i am!” and then a pause; iwaizumi flaunts a taunting smirk in your direction and you realise how punchable his face looks. “i mean, anyone would be worried. what if it's a fracture instead? they treat you like a national treasure, everyone will go crazy.”

you’re not wrong.

everyone in the school, or even outside the institutional premises if possible, treasures iwaizumi more than their lives. you still remember the day minhee took the blame on her after iwaizumi accidently broke the principal’s bonsai, only for him to thank her by saying that she’s like his younger sister. long story short, there are numerous tales about people vouching for him and what not— it’s exhausting. the point is how big of a breaking news it would be when his ‘fans’ will know that iwaizumi hurt himself and won’t be attending school for the next couple of days, probably. you wonder if people will still watch the play once they know that their beloved iwaizumi isn’t the male lead anymore.

“how long do you think it’ll take to heal?” it’s an attempt to strike a conversation and you’re glad iwaizumi took the initiative. you were starting to feel embarrassed with his ankles in your hand.

“hm, three days? or four? maybe a weak? depends on how well you’re taking care of yourself.”

“four days,” another pause, he tends to think before tapping on your shoulder, making you look up at him. “do you want to go on a date with me?”

it’s like you’ve experienced culture shock. “what?”

“what? we have one due from the last time,” he smirks again, and you realise that he has been smirking a lot late. it’s beyond extents and makes you want to wipe that smirk off his face. “so, do you want to, you know, four days later?”

it’s back, the arrhythmia. you seriously need to get yourself checked before cardiac arrest knocks on your door. oh, and you’d love to punch his good for nothing handsome face but you don’t, maybe because he’s injured. after all, how is a man supposed to live with a broken leg and nose?

“looks like you’ve hit your head too.” you stand up, handing him the remaining bandages before storming off the venue. little did you know that your cheek started heating up the moment you looked into his eyes.

“hey, you didn’t give me an answer!” and you don’t want to either. you walk away, assuming someone would come and assist him to the main building because if you stay next to him for another second, you’ll go crazy. you absolutely hate coming to terms with your feelings but maybe, maybe you do have slight infatuation with iwaizumi; and maybe, you need to get onto it with kyoka before it’s too late.

“and the last scene? i was screaming internally—”

“can we talk?” you interrupt kyoka, partly because your ears will bleed if you heard another word about how ecstatic acting with hayato was and partly because you actually want to talk.

she stops, slight nervousness settling on her face. “yeah, sure.”

“about your crush,” it’s just three words and you’re already willing to leave the conversation taking place on your own accord. “okay, all i’m saying is that i like him too. i’m sorry, please don’t be mad.”

and then you hear her laugh, out of everything. a part of you wants to scream because you just disclosed an important info, something you don’t even want to acknowledge yourself, and she’s laughing. moreover, it’s about the love of her life. your friendship is at stake and she’s laughing. perhaps you have a broken humour for not getting the joke.

“why would i be mad?” you blink, wondering if you heard her right. not like you were expecting her to go off and beat you in the middle of the street at 9 pm, but there’s always a chance. “i don’t think i have a chance with him either way. so, i’ll just root for you.”

this is why you think iwaizumi and kyoka are perfect for each other. they both are nice, literal saints, embodiments of kindness, not a vile cell inside of them. as for you, you had your sibling’s snack last evening and stepped on your mom’s foot while running away across the household. you don’t think iwaizumi has even stepped on an ant. instead, he seems the type to help them navigate or something.

“i feel bad now that you’re giving up,” you confess, and it’s true. probably the truest truth you’ve said so far. you feel frustration pent up inside you, threatening to overflow any second. “Why did i have to fall for iwaizumi out of all the people?!”

“wait, iwaizumi?” kyoka asks, dumbfounded, or rather, confused.

“yes, we’re talking about iwaizumi, right?” okay, you don’t have a good feeling about the direction this conversation is heading towards.

“no?” she clarifies and the look on your face morphs into visible panic. “i don’t like iwaizumi.”

“what?” you yell, turning a few passing heads towards you. however, you pay them no mind. “i thought you liked iwaizumi because of the name on your eraser. i-h, iwaizumi hajime, it makes sense!”

kyoka shakes her head in denial. “no, it’s i-h, hayato ito. i like hayato and not iwaizumi!”

an awkward pause follows. it’s a mess inside your head. you abso-fucking-lutely can’t believe the way you misunderstood the whole situation, and got yourself into a problem with seemingly no way out. you could’ve asked her about the eraser but you didn’t, proceeding to make your own assumptions and ending up in an even bigger issue.

kyoka gasps, pulling you out of your thoughts. “oh my god, then you have a crush on iwaizumi?” that phrase doesn’t surprise you anymore. “i thought you liked tatsuya.”

maybe, that surprises you a bit. you remember fawning over tatsuya, thinking about him all day, reading and re-reading your conversations with him. being with tatsuya has always been the highlight of your day, yet you don’t recall thinking about him ever since iwaizumi walked into your life. you didn’t seem to mind when tatsuya hung out with other people but you feel as if you have a knife by your neck whenever you spot iwaizumi with others.

you simply don’t know what’s happening to you. “yeah, uh, surprise?” and this isn’t the time to laugh but you do, trying to lighten the burden on your shoulders. “i’m not really sure if i like iwaizumi yet.” liar, you are. you may deny it till the end of the time but you know you’re falling for iwaizumi; slowly and gradually, but you are.

“didn’t you just say you like iwaizumi, though?” she smirks as if she can see through the lies you tell yourself. “well, whatever. at least, we don’t have to be love rivals.” yeah, maybe there’s one good thing about this whole situation. imagine having a crush on your best friend’s crush, embarrassing. but again, being in this situation built over misunderstandings is even more embarrassing, it’s eating you out.

at this point, you don’t even care about you, or your so-called reputation if someone discloses this whole thing to the public. you don’t care about tatsuya, nor do you give two flying fucks to your seemingly dead feelings for him. you only have one thing on your mind : iwaizumi hajime.

it isn’t about how you feel towards him. you’re still in the maybe stage. perhaps, you don’t like iwaizumi and this is just your fatigued brain coming up with bizzare conclusions. you remember falling for iwaizumi the day he walked you home. however, the next day, you were back to normal. you didn’t remember shit about butterflies and zoos. perhaps, it’s the same this time as well. so, you don’t care about your feelings, but you can’t seem to ignore how he feels towards you.

to iwaizumi, who doesn’t have any idea about the truth lying within, every second of this is true. every moment, every step, every word, every touch, every gaze, every smile, everything. he thinks you like him. no, actually, he’s convinced that you like him. and iwaizumi being the kindest person on earth is trying his best to like you back, to know you beyond everyone else’s perception of who you are. he greets you every morning over texts and bids you good night. he asks if you’re doing okay, if you need help with assignments, if you’re down for an evening stroll— he’s giving his everything; and you always turn his advances down, never daring to cross the wall you’ve created between you and him.

iwaizumi takes one step towards you, and you take four away from him.

kyoka bids her goodbyes at the intersection from where you both have opposite ways home. you had planned to spend the night at her place, only for your mother to refuse, saying she has a few things she needs to talk to you about. you halt at the intersection, staring and sighing at the night sky, contemplating how mess of a life you have as if it isn’t the consequences of your own actions.

“yn?” you close your eyes. now is not the time. tatsuya is like the last person you want to see tonight. “what are you looking at?” he chuckles, mirroring your actions as he follows your gaze and looks up at the empty night sky as well.

“your mom,” he frowns at your reply, especially since his mom passed away when he was just seven, sending a sour stare your way. tatsuya isn’t the biggest supporter of your mom jokes, actually, for all the valid reasons. “what are you doing here? didn’t you leave for home long ago?”

“yes but,” he pulls out what seems like your scarf from his bag, handing it out to you. “you forgot this. iwaizumi said he would’ve given it to you himself but his leg . . . you know. don’t be sad that your boyfriend couldn’t make it, though. he said he’d be at school tomorrow.”

boyfriend, right. it feels odd hearing it from tatsuya. would he still be able to say with ease if he knew you have a crush on him, or rather, used to? overthinking apart, you’re glad tatsuya came to return your scarf or your mother wouldn’t have let you inside tonight. it doesn’t take you realise that iwaizumi and tatsuya are actually close, and they have gotten even closer over the past few days thanks to you and your crush on iwaizumi.

maybe, tatsuya is the only one who can help you out. “can i ask you about something?” he nods, and you narrate your whole story about how you borrowed the eraser from kyoka, iwaizumi misunderstanding the setting, the person kyoka actually has a crush on and everything else, all the things except the fact that you like tatsuya— used to.

“can you get more stupid?” that’s the first thing tatsuya comes up with after you update him on your dilemma.

“how am i stupid when iwaizumi assumed everything in the first place?” you slap his arm playfully, earning an exaggerated response. “what should i do?”

tatsuya scoffs. “tell him the truth.” god, no, asking him was the wrong-est move you’ve ever made. “don’t look at me like that! i hope you know you’re basically playing with that poor boy’s feelings.” that’s right. that’s the phrase; playing with his feelings. you didn’t want to accept it initially, you’re not the type to play with anyone’s feelings and what’s happening right now is a big misunderstanding.

however, hearing it from tatsuya makes it sound even worse. not to mention, you feel awful. you try to imagine iwaizumi’s reaction after you tell him the truth. you couldn’t bring yourself to do that. what would you do if you were in his shoes? how would you react? maybe you’d end up actually hating him, scream and shout, act like a dramatic bitch, and whatnot; but iwaizumi doesn’t seem the type to do that. he doesn’t come off as someone who’d shout at you. maybe, he’ll say it’s okay, and thank you for coming clean, and move on as if nothing happened.

the problem is, even if he’s heartbroken, he wouldn’t let you know; and you, being yourself, would believe it and stamp him as just another passerby in your life.

“how do i bring it up to him?” you mumble, looking at tatsuya. you’re thinking of another excuse in the back of your head. something along the lines of ‘hey, i don’t think you have to force yourself to like me yada yada—’ it sounds hella generous. you don’t want to turn this in your favour. even if iwaizumi claims he’s not forcing himself to like you, you will convince him otherwise. that’s your thought process, your silly way out of this situation.

“just be straightforward.” tatsuya interrupts your trail of thoughts. “you know, he lives just a street behind yours so if we hurry, we can make it before ten.” you take a look at your phone screen : 9:50pm. tatsuya’s hand slips into yours as he sprints towards iwaizumi’s house. you don’t know what time has to do with any of these. sure, ten at night is probably not the right timing to go visit someone but still, you have had your friends stand out of your window at two in the morning for impromptu midnight escapades.

maybe, iwaizumi is one of those ‘good boys’ who goes to bed at ten sharp, without excuses. to be honest, it sounds very iwaizumi-like. dinner at seven, studies following, and then to bed at ten, seems like something the one and only iwaizumi hajime would do.

before you realise, you find yourself standing in front of what is supposed to be iwaizumi’s house. it’s nice, beautiful, even. the garden is well maintained and you wonder if he’s into gardening. tatsuya shoots a call to iwaizumi, who peeks down at the street through his window just a few seconds later, waving at you before disappearing behind the grey curtains.

it’s cute, you think, and then decide that you’re crazy. no way, you just called iwaizumi hajime cute. sure, you find him a bit interesting but not like you have a passionate crush on him. you can be one of those fans, nothing more.

a girl opens the door and you recall that she could be his sister. he talks about her every time you both complain about siblings. iwaizumi helps himself down the stairs, using wall as support while his sister aids him shortly. you wonder if this is a wrong time to meet him. his ankle doesn’t look bad, not like you can actually see it, but back at school, he wasn’t even able to move it.

“how’s your leg?” the question falls off your lips instinctively, without giving him or tatsuya, a chance to even breath in each other’s direction.

iwaizumi smiles, looking down at his ankles before setting his eyes back on you. “quite better.” involuntarily, you reciprocate his smile, nodding before waving at his sister as well, who excuses herself shortly. “would you like to come in?”

“no, actually,” tatsuya cuts in, giving you a look of assurance. “we want to talk about something. she wants to, actually.” and tatsuya steps aside, leaving you and iwaizumi alone to talk everything out and clear all the misunderstandings.

“so, the eraser,” you begin, hesitatingly, looking at tatsuya who shoots you thumbs up from a distance. “it actually belongs to kyoka. i borrowed it for a test since i didn’t bring mine. the name too, the ih on it stands for hayato ito, and not iwaizumi hajime.” you want to dig a hole and die because first, this is so embarrassing. iwaizumi looks at you unfazed as if he’s too stunned to speak; and second, your voice practically dies towards the end of your sentence, making it more terrible than it already is.

iwaizumi doesn’t speak for next thirty seconds. he simply looks at you, blinking occasionally, making you wonder if your confession traumatised him so much that he lost his verbal abilities. you won’t blame him. this whole thing is hurtful enough to give anyone a trauma. furthermore, as you’re about to speak more, he lets out a dry chuckle, almost convincing you that he has gone crazy. “that’s it?”

that’s it? that’s it? that’s all he has to say? you’re about to lose your mind.

“i mean, i’m sorry for not bringing it up earlier,” you kind of want to scream in the middle of the road because you went through all this trouble, beating your mental health to death, only for him to chuckle and say that’s it? then you ponder if it’s sarcasm, or if iwaizumi wants a written apology from you, one that you will post on the school's forum and recite in front of the whole school at morning assembly. you’re marginally close from ripping your hair out, strand by strand.

“it’s okay. you couldn’t tell me before because i took it so seriously. it’s my fault for jumping to conclusions.” you’re almost in tears once again. had it been someone else, or let alone someone else, had it been you in his shoes, you would’ve made a scene; and iwaizumi is here, in front of you, taking the blame for something that isn’t his fault in the first place.

“no, iwa—”

“i said it’s okay. i’m glad you brought it up. you don’t have to worry about it anymore.” he cuts you off, reassuring you again and again. all this time, you’ve been thinking about yourself, never really considering him and when you finally give him a chance to call you out, he turns the situation in your favour. “honestly, i’m relieved.”

“iwaizumi, what are you doing outside?” an unfamiliar voice breaks in before you could respond to his words. you run your eyes around, who iwaizumi seems to have forgotten about, only to realise he has already left. turns out, the voice belonged to iwaizumi’s mother and godbless, she’s just as pretty as him, or even more. “and you should invite your friend inside. it’s cold out here.”

“yn’s not a friend. they’re more of a,” ain’t no way. if iwaizumi’s planning to say what you’re thinking then there’s no way he hasn’t gone crazy. “classmate. they were about to leave.” his mother nods, smiling at you as she walks inside, leaving you and iwaizumi basking in silence. suddenly, all the words inside your mouth die down, leaving a taste of speechlessness as you mutter a silent goodbye to him.

“you good? why do you look pale all of a sudden?” iwaizumi asks, stepping forward to check your temperature, only for you to step back as an empty frown settles on his face.

“i know i lied but i always thought we were at least friends,” you say it with a chuckle, having iwaizumi retreat his hand as you turn around, proceeding on your way back home. “take care of yourself.”

it’s funny because all this time, you’ve been stepping away from iwaizumi, never letting him approach you, taking multiple steps away from him; but just watching him step away from you feels like the life inside you has been knocked out. but it’s fine, this is what you’ve wanted.

and just like that, you and iwaizumi get all the way back to step one, being what you initially were : classmates.

YOUR DAYS without iwaizumi have been like a monochrome film. you haven’t talked to him after that night, neither did he try to strike a conversation. the homeroom teacher changed the seating arrangement, with you and iwaizumi ending up on opposite corners of the classroom. it was a perfect excuse to not being able to talk; but now, four days later, you’re sitting on the last seat, watching iwaizumi as he jots down notes from the board. you notice the way he spins the pen between his fingers as he re-reads what he wrote, or the way frantically flips to the very last page and do some calculations. you don’t know when you started noticing so much about him. you find him in the hallways, standing with his friends and still isolated, you realise something must be wrong. maybe his dog is sick, maybe he didn’t score well, maybe this, maybe that— and your head would be full of iwaizumi all over again.

“you’re zoning out again,” kyoka mutters, poking your arms with her pen. one good thing about the new seating arrangement is that kyoka is your deskmate, and you honestly need her next to you for the next few months, at least. “is it iwaizumi again?”

and you need her because she always seems to know what you’re thinking. you don’t even need to say a word, or wear an expression. all she needs is just one look at you and that’ll lead her to your mind. you don’t respond to her question; you choose not to, and the two of you get back to writing once the teacher looks in your direction with a heavy gaze.

“you never told me what happened that day,” you pause again, contemplating your choices. you don’t know why you never told her. you don’t hide anything from her unless it’s your credit card number, but jokes apart, you don’t know what was stopping you from telling her the truth all this time.

“i told him everything.” you mumble, it’s more like a whisper, maybe even quieter. “the whole misunderstanding, and— yeah. everything. we haven’t talked since then.”

you feel her nod with a soft hum. “and you miss him?”

“no.” a pause. kyoka’s eyes travel to you at your quick reply while yours stay fixed on your notebook before you start writing again. “i don’t.”

the truth is, you don’t know the answer to that question. do you miss him? do you not? it’s a question for later. you don’t know who you miss— the iwaizumi that was your friend, or the part of him that used to be your boyfriend. honestly, you wish he’d talk to you, like he used to. like the way you wouldn’t text him one day and he’d spam you with missed calls, like the way he’d pester you at school asking why you didn’t respond to his texts. you want him to reach you out again because you can’t do it now that he knows the truth; and if he chose that he’s better off without you, you’re no one to intervene.

till then, you’ll wait, because that’s all you can do.

“you’re lyin—”

you cut her off. “i’m not.”

“yn—”

“we’re in class, kyoka. get back to writing.”

“no— yn look at me.” and you do as silence intoxicates the air between the two of you. there’s a knowing glint in her eyes, as if she has already known the truth and is asking for your confirmation, waiting to hear it from your mouth. she takes a deep breath, looking at you with stern eyes. “do you like iwaizumi?”

you don’t know the answer to that question either. falling for someone is complicated. you don’t know when exactly you start falling, or when you have fallen all the way in and too deep to return, or when you start falling beyond the rock bottom. you don’t know whether you’re falling for iwaizumi or not. you like being with him, really, and you’ve learnt to tolerate his all perfect attitude that used to irritate you initially. you find yourself thinking about the things the two of you would’ve done if you ever went on that date, or the time when you almost asked him to teach you volleyball even though you have a single athletic bone in your body.

when it comes to him, you think about things you’ve never thought about. you listen to him as if he’s a synchrony of a melody and melancholy. with him, you do things you would’ve never done otherwise. you find yourself breaking your own rules for him, but are you falling for him— that’s a question you don’t know the answer to. you don’t know how to find an answer to that one.

kyoka doesn’t wait for your response. she probably knows it anyway. it’s almost as if she’s waiting for you to catch up to your feelings. but it doesn’t make sense to you. even if you give her an answer, even if you say that you like him, it wouldn’t change how you feel about him. you can tell the world that you love iwaizumi hajime but it wouldn’t change a thing about your feelings for him, because saying as always been easier than actually coming in terms with your words, and you know you’re lost in your way towards or away from iwaizumi, and no words of saccharine confessions could ever change that.

the bells, lesson ends, and you stay in the class until all the students walk out. it’s break and you haven’t had an appetite ever since you woke up this morning. just as expected, kyoka leaves to see hayato ito, they’ve gotten closer over the last few days and you’re expecting a dating announcement from her soon. she’s like that, kyoka likes to show off, but in a good way. when you win an award, she posts your picture with the caption ‘everyone be jealous because i’m yn’s best friend and you’re not,’— it’s adorable, and then you never see the end of it because she never stops telling everyone how she’s your best friend, your closest friend, and the friend who’d always be the most suitable candidate for your lover because no one knows you better than kyoka; and the last part is very much a joke, by the way.

when sitting alone in the classroom doesn’t help you calm down your racing mind, you make your way towards the terrace. for some reason, standing under the vast skyline brings you to ease. although, coming to the school terrace is prohibited and you’ve already received multiple detentions for it, you don’t mind spending another day cleaning the classroom if it means you can spend a few minutes at the terrace everyday. however, today turns out to be different. you wanted to spend the whole break on the terrace, now you don’t, because you see the one person you’ve been avoiding for four days— iwaizumi hajime.

your first thought is to leave, to pretend that you never saw him standing there; but then you realise— you never did anything wrong. well, except the whole misunderstanding part, you never did anything wrong. you owned up to your mistakes, you’ve apologised and iwaizumi even accepted it. in any case, it’s his fault because he considers you a classmate and nothing more, even after everything you’ve been through. so, you walk to your usual spot, feeling iwaizumi’s eyes following you as you exhibit your walk of pride. you kind of want to run away but it’s too late now.

a minute passes, and then another, followed by another and you’re starting to think this was a bad decision. you should’ve left when you had the chance because silence is even more suffocating. and the fact that both of you are socially incompetent isn’t helping your case. but someone has to break the ice and soon enough, you realise that in this situation, you have to take the lead.

“um, you don’t have practice today?” you ask, fingers crossed that he doesn’t find you weird or shameless for showing up after four days and acting as if nothing’s wrong.

“wednesdays are off,” right, tatsuya told you once. another trail of silence follows. you don’t know what to say and judging from his face, it seems like he doesn’t know either. you won’t like, you have your questions and you believe he does too, but you don’t know where to start. “i’m sorry about that day.”

iwaizumi blurts out, leaving you surprised. you feel your heart beat relentlessly, knowing that he’s finally addressing the topic you’ve been running away for days now. “i haven’t told my mother that i’m dating and introducing you as my partner would’ve been, i don’t know, too early? since we’re still in the trial stage. and, you’re definitely more than a friend so,” you notice the soft tint of red climb up his cheeks as your lips curl into a smile. you couldn’t help but find it cute, one doesn’t always get to see iwaizumi hajime struggling with his words. “just— you get it, right? i would’ve told this to you that day but you had already left.”

and once again, his words leave you speechless, sending your heart in a spiral and giving you butterflies. you think it’s one of his charms. he has a way with words, a luxury you never had. “why didn’t you tell me the next day, or the day after that, or just one of these days?”

“i figured you were mad so i kinda wanted to do something for you,” there's a slight hesitation in his voice. you don’t know where it comes from. you notice the way he scratches his nape, avoiding your eyes actively while letting those words fall off his lips. you wouldn’t say you actually know him, but you think you’re a step closer to knowing the iwaizumi hajime behind the notion of a straight-A student that the school has created.

you think you can talk to him now without worrying about the past misunderstandings. “iwaizumi, do you even know what i like?”

he takes a second to think. “uh, mint chocolate?”

“no way, i hate mint chocolate—” and from that point on, it’s just a cycle of whats and hows. iwaizumi says that tatsuya told him you like mint chocolate. he gasps in disbelief when he realises that tatsuya had lied. you are so busy laughing about the whole situation that you don’t notice the way iwaizumi’s eyes rest upon you. you fail to notice the way his lips curl up as your honey dripping laughter fills the air around, and he’s glad because iwaizumi believes that he’s absolutely smitten, and there’s no way you can know unless he tells you himself.

there’s not a moment when iwaizumi isn’t looking at you. all the four days when you weren’t in contact with each other, he looked through your texts and the pictures that you had taken in his phone just because his camera is amazing. he steals glances at you in class when you aren’t looking. iwaizumi doodles your face at the back of his notebook and one can see your name written all over the last few pages, along with ways to apologise. iwaizumi can’t stop looking at you because you’re just too pretty that nothing else pleases his eyes.

so when you finally stop laughing, assuring him that you’d tell tatsuya to not lie to him about your likes and dislikes ever again, iwaizumi realises that he doesn’t ever want to stop looking at you. he wants you to be there every day, next to him, and he wants to be able to admire your face for all the days to come.

“yn, would you like to go on a date with me?” he proposes, and everything goes silent when you look at him with your eyes wide open, heart threatening to jump out of your chest. “we can get to know each other better.”

at that moment, you realise that you don’t know much about iwaizumi either. you know him as the smart and talented guy, or someone who plays for the school volleyball team, or as someone so good at art that he can apply for international competitions if he wanted to. even after being his ‘girlfriend’ or something along those lines, you learn that you don’t know him any better than everyone else.

“yes.” you reply, because you discern that perhaps, you’re a step closer to the real iwaizumi, even though you may be a hundred miles apart. you realise that iwaizumi hajime is enchanting and it’s a luxury to know the iwaizumi beyond the limits that apply to everyone else but you.

the rest of your day goes by in a blink. you don’t realise when time passed and now, you’re sitting in for the last lesson of the day. the iwaizumi effect, you may call it, because when iwaizumi is around, time seems to go faster and when he’s not, the world stops and everything makes you feel like you’re running out of breath.

"you look happy," kyoka comments but you pay her words no mind. instead, your eyes are fixed on iwaizumi, and you shoot him a sweet smile when he turns out to face the student sitting behind him, getting one as a response as well. just then, you realise that iwaizumi has a really cute smile. you never really noticed it until now, and you don't want him to lose that smile ever again.

he points his fingers towards your textbook, gesturing you to focus on your lesson, and you do the same until he turns away from you, scribbling on his notebook before shipping towards you once again, holding it upright for you to decipher the words, which continue to remain a secret between iwaizumi and the pages of his notebook since they weren't clear enough for you to read.

you don't remember the last time you felt this way. all these unspeakable feelings that you're unable to identify, it wasn't until iwaizumi came into your life that you started thinking about anything along the lines of romance. you pull out your phone, texting him something before beckoning him to check his phone, and just then kyoka's voice interrupts your main character moment.

"yn— geez, i've called your name like thrice already!" she slaps your shoulder playfully, making you snicker in response.

you shoot her an annoyed expression. "what?"

"well, i wanted to ask about chemistry but when the fuck did this happen like—" and then he paused, looking around before leaning closer, speaking with a low voice. "didn't you and iwaizumi fight?"

"we talked it out," she deadpans, because that simply isn't enough as an answer for the way you've been asking for the past four days. "we're all good now, i suppose." you feel her looking at you in disbelief while the teacher dismisses the class, and you know she’s probably thinking about how you should’ve sorted it out four days ago if talking was all that you both needed to get back to how you used to be.

but you like to think that she doesn’t understand. kyoka has been in more relationships than you and she understands its aspects better than anyone else that you’ve known. but she has never been in your shoes. she didn’t find herself getting over her crush in just a few days and started getting butterflies she didn’t like until weeks ago. she doesn’t get butterflies when she thinks about this one person and gets losts wondering if she actually likes him or if she’s only in love with the idea of him. she doesn’t go on dates with the person and she isn’t spending nights and days wondering if they’re dating or if they’re just friends. she has never been in your shoes, and you have never experienced these feelings before iwaizumi.

"you're in love with him." she snickers, slinging her bag up her shoulders while you pack your belongings, completely overlooking iwaizumi who’s standing by the door, waiting for you.

"i'm not in love with him," you’re quick to decline, you can’t help but smile at the thought of it. were you in love with iwaizumi? you don’t know. maybe it’s not love, because love is a heavy word. it’s not just something you can say out of the blues. you don’t think you’re in love with iwaizumi, yet.

she rolls her eyes at your stance of denial. “you were literally flirting with him, yn.”

“we were talking, kyoka.” and she shakes her head, surrendering to your thought process because kyoka knows she can never understand your logic. “by the way, i’m walking home with iwaizumi so you can leave.”

all you notice is the way she nods, mumbling what you think was ‘and you say you aren’t in love with him,’ before walking out of the class. you decide not to refute her words— it was pointless. you can only decline something to a point and after that, you have to fall for acceptance. maybe that’s why you feel like you wouldn’t mind it anymore if someone asks you whether you’re in love with iwaizumi, because you do feel some type of way about him. you don’t know if it’s love— god— you don’t even know if you like him, but you know what you want him near you. you’ve spent four days without iwaizumi and you sure you wouldn’t want to go through that ever again. all you know is that you like being with iwaizumi, and you hope that rest will fall into place over time. you’ve spent weeks in a no-label relationship with him, not knowing what the two of you are, and you don’t mind spending the next few weeks lost and wondering about what you both can be.

you’re so busy drowning in the ocean of your thoughts that you fail to notice when iwaizumi left the classroom. you’re sure you saw him around when kyoka was still in the classroom. you rush downstairs, assuming that he must be waiting by the exit.

“yn,” you stop at the sound of your name resonating through the hallway, noticing a girl from junior year if you recall correctly, running in your direction. “i heard you and iwaizumi broke up. is it true?”

and yet again, you find yourself wondering how to answer that question. did you break up? you don’t think so, because you weren’t dating him in the first place; but again, everyone in the school believes that you’ve been dating him and iwaizumi never tried to decline those baseless assumptions. however, her question is what you’re worried about the most. just thinking about what follows after pushes your heart towards the edge. you can’t help but picture them together, her and iwaizumi, and quite frankly, they’d make a good pair. are you ready to see them together? not that you know; but, are you ready for iwaizumi to leave you for someone else? you don’t think you can imagine that, or even want to think about it.

“er— where did you hear that from?” you question back in an attempt to avoid answering the question. on the other hand, you couldn’t help but think how the first time, iwaizumi was last and this time, it’s you who’s making him wait.

“a few seniors were talking about it,” she replies, getting impatient as seconds pass. “just tell me, are you still dating him or not?”

“they are,” that’s iwaizumi, and you turn around to face him, taking a sigh of relief since iwaizumi is congenitally better at answering tricky questions than you. “i don’t know who told you that we broke up, but it’s not true. we’re still dating, and i don’t plan to break up soon.”

you don’t remember since you’ve started feeling nervous around him. maybe it was after the night he walked you home, or the night you told him everything; or maybe you’ve always been nervous around him, just failing to notice it because you were too busy running away from him. but you know it now— you’re nervous around him. iwaizumi makes you nervous, and it’s only because he’s too good at pretending. he puts his hand around your shoulder to make her think how much he loves you, he talks about you to his friends to put on a show about your relationship. iwaizumi is too good at pretending, and you’re afraid that you’re falling for his empty words of admiration.

when she left after offering an apology, in that moment, you look at iwaizumi and it suddenly occurs to you how beautiful his eyes are. you don’t think you’ve ever been in such close vicinity with him, and now that you’re standing next to him with his arms around your shoulders, you feel like it’s the safest place to be in. his words felt like intricately written verses of poetry and you forgot how to look away from him. you notice iwaizumi’s eyes settle on you and you don’t turn away, you can’t, because you feel as if your feet have forgotten how to walk. he asks you why you have that look on your face, as though a shadow has fallen across its sun-drenched landscape, heavy with premonition, you tell yourself that it’s just a phase.

but then iwaizumi flicks your forehead, sliding his hands into yours, leading you towards the exit— a smile makes its way to your lips. it’s amusing; the second you tried to tell yourself that you weren’t in love was the moment you realised you were, and you’ve always been.

“here, your ice cream.” iwaizumi holds out his hand towards you, waiting for you to take it from your hand. and then a second passes, followed by a couple more; then he calls your name, only to receive silence in return. you don’t respond until he grabs your hand, passing you the ice-cream cone himself before chuckling at your antics. “you zone out a lot, don’t you?”

“why did you lie?” you ask, taking the cone from his hand, although your favourite ice cream didn’t look appetising anymore. “you could’ve told her that we’re not dating.”

“do you want me to tell that to her?" you don’t know what made him ask that question, but little do you know that somewhere inside, you don’t want this rumour to come to an end.

you’ve lost him one and you know you want to lose him again. truthfully, the four days without iwaizumi were the hardest for you. your hand felt emptier than before you had met him— your heart felt heavier. you kept denying your feelings because you were scared, and even now, you feel as if you’re hanging by the edge of a cliff. you didn’t know how important he became to you until you watched him stray further, but now you do; at least a part of you does. in some strange mysterious way, you knew there was something special about him the day iwaizumi asked you on a date for a very first time. in his eyes, you caught a glimpse of yourself. despite being polar opposites, you noticed the minor similarities between him and you. there were times when you wished to go back to the day where he stood next to you, stunned by your confession, and you’d tell him the truth instead of lying and running away like the coward you are.

but then, there are days when you find yourself thanking the higher deities for putting you and iwaizumi on the same path, though it was supported by lies and misunderstandings. you don’t think you would’ve ever tried to enter iwaizumi’s world if none of this would’ve happened, neither would you have let him enter yours. you want to run away, wipe the slate clean, start all over again and see where it would take you.

because you aren’t sure what you’re doing. you don’t know anything about love. you find it scary, you think you’re too young to claim the word ‘love’ for the way you feel towards iwaizumi. you don’t know what love is, but if it means jumping in an endless pit, eyes closed, and waiting for iwaizumi to catch you, then you don’t ever want to climb back up.

"iwaizumi," his eyes travel to yours, a gaze that throws your heart in an endless spiral. "i know the eraser was a misunderstanding but, i think i actually like you."

you look at him, he looks at you, a few seconds pass and when he doesn’t reply, you feel regret conquer your mind. maybe, expecting a positive response is far-fetched. if you put yourself in his shoes, you wouldn't like him back either. liking him wouldn’t even be an option, you don’t know if you’d be able to trust him all over again. so, if you can’t imagine yourself falling for someone who has done everything that you did to iwaizumi, then how can you expect iwaizumi to do the same?

there are moments when you think iwaizumi hajime is too good for you, and maybe, this is one of those. he’s too honest, too good to be true, he doesn’t know how to cut people out of his life; and probably that’s why, he continues to be with you because he doesn’t want to break your heart. it's an unwanted pity, albeit one that you’re grateful for, perhaps.

“just reject me already. you don’t need to waste your time,” you say, because iwaizumi hajime being the kind soul he is, isn’t capable of saying no. so, you decide to create distances from your end, hoping he wouldn’t chase you this time ‘round.

iwaizumi still doesn’t say a word. he simply looks at you, perhaps trying to read your expression, or maybe thinking of ways to say no; but it’s what you think he’s doing. you were never able to perceive what actually goes inside his head. maybe that’s why, when he steps closer to you, you forget how to breathe. "would you like to date me?"

and his question takes you out, really. iwaizumi? you? dating? you like the sound of that, but if you put all the events together, no one of it makes sense. "did you hit your head again?"

"you're being rude." he frowns.

"and i think you're making fun of me."

"i'm not," iwaizumi sighs and that’s the first time you sense annoyance in his words. you’ve never seen him annoyed or irritated, not as much as he looks right now, at you. "i don’t know why you’re acting like you committed a crime. it was a misunderstanding, a mistake, and we solved it. we both were at fault and we apologised, that’s it. leave it be. i’ll say this again; i like you, yn, and i don’t care what happened in the past. would you like to go on a date with me?"

this time, you make silence reign the air around the two of you. once again, you don’t know what to say. are you supposed to nod? say yes? run away? or are you supposed to kiss him like those actors do in the movies? you’d never know.

“i’ll take that as a yes.” turns out he’s in a silly, goofy mood, because iwaizumi is acting as if he didn’t just present a heart-fluttering confession. well, everything he does flutters your heart, but hearing him say those words, it made you fall for him all over again; and you’d have to agree that iwaizumi hajime looks really hot when he’s annoyed. “where do you want to go for our date?”

“movie on saturday?” you suggest. “or whatever you want, actually.”

“not saturday. me and kyoka are planning to meet to wrap up the council work.” ah, kyoka. you don’t know the last time you envied her, maybe never until this moment. it’s new, really, because you’re being envious of your best friend just because your potential boyfriend is picking her over your date; and it’s equally illogical because you know kyoka likes someone else. “can i come over tomorrow?”

“what? no. it hasn’t even been a minute since we started dating,” truthfully, you’re not exactly against the thought of iwaizumi coming over to your place. it sounds wonderful, actually, but you have a pride to maintain. “besides, i didn’t say yes, yet.”

“that’s why, i’ll be coming over tomorrow, to ask you out again.” he says, looking at you as if you are his whole world. “and i hope you say yes.” this is why you think you hate iwaizumi more than you like him. he has his way with words, and knows what to say, and each and every sentence leaves you speechless, unable to process your own thoughts. you hate how he excels in all the fields because just when you thought you could maybe something equally heart-fluttering, iwaizumi leans in closer, planting a soft kiss on your cheeks before intertwining his hands in yours, kissing the back of your palm. “please, say yes.”

and you think you will, because you don’t know what it means to like someone, but it feels like that for you. like you and iwaizumi exist in a time before love— as though you were waiting for the word to catch up to the feeling.

THE THOUGHT of dating iwaizumi is ambiguous.

you aren’t even close to it. iwaizumi said he would ask you out again, but you decided to assist him and kyoka in their council work, which was rescheduled on the day you and iwaizumi were supposed to have your ‘date.’ you didn’t plan to spend the day with him, honestly. despite his multiple requests to come over to his place with kyoka, you refused to agree until ten minutes before they planned to meet. you don’t know what convinced you to agree. perhaps, it’s the stagnant picture of the two of them in your head, maybe it’s the fact that you had nothing to do and going over to iwaizumi seemed better than sleeping throughout the noon.

after arriving at his place, you realised that it was jealousy that drove you to his house; or rather, an utter sense of diffidence that plagued your mind. something about watching kyoka and iwaizumi work together pulled you away from the thought that you and iwaizumi can be something more than friends. however, despite being aware of iwaizumi’s feelings for you, you can’t help but believe in the possibility of him and kyoka.

“how’s council work going?” you ask as the two of you stroll down to your house since iwaizumi insisted on walking you back even though you said it wasn’t necessary. these are the times when you think he pays you a lot more attention than necessary, more than you deserve, even. you notice the way your steps are in sync before he stops to take a look at a stray cat sneaking into someone’s garden, and the next step he takes doesn’t match yours anymore.

“it’s good.” he replies, and although you can’t see his face now that he’s walking a step in front of you, you could hear the smile in his voice. “kyoka is good at what she does. i’m assuming we can wrap it up by tomorrow.”

your grasp around his hand tightens, fingers interlaced and yet you could feel the distance in between. his words leave a sour taste in your mouth. however, in any case, you can't deny how capable your friend is. it’s only normal for people to compliment her, and in iwaizumi’s case, you presume that he can relate after meeting someone on the same spectrum as him. “right, she’s efficient.”

“i thought she would be, i don’t know, cold? she looks indifferent but is actually really fun to—” and you stop, causing him to do the same as he halts in the middle of his sentence, lowering his head to get a better look at your expression. “is something wrong?”

“no?,” you shoot him a forced smile. “i’m just thinking how you two would make a good couple,” you say, because dating iwaizumi is ambiguous. it’s almost as if every second with him reminds you that you don’t belong here.

“you’re back at this again,” there’s annoyance laced in his voice and you wonder if your actions have finally broken his shell. after all, there’s only so much a person can put up against your sheer persistence. “i don’t care about kyoka, or how good or bad we look together. i like you—”

“why?” your voice shoots up a few octaves, loud enough to turn a few heads in your direction as the passersby assume it to be just another lover’s quarrel. “iwaizumi, everything reminds me of how different we are. i try to not overthink but then i look at you and kyoka and realise how i came between the two of you.”

you see everything come down falling. it feels nice, for some reason. now that he’s in front of you, standing with an expression that ranges between anger and disappointment while you’re finally able to voice your thoughts, you don’t feel like this is bad enough. after all, communication is the key, and unsaid words only give rise to unwanted strains in a relationship. even though you knew nothing could be made out of whatever you and iwaizumi have, you want to end it on a good note for the sake of both of you.

for the next few minutes, you talked and he listened. you aren’t sure if you were making sense. you didn’t know if you were processing your own words, it all sounded like an information dump— just like when you’re assigned a task and when asked about it, your supervisor drops each and every thing about it on you like an explosive, and you’re left to find the starting point. looking at his face, you discern that iwaizumi must be feeling the same way.

it pains you to see him like this— limbs on side as if they’re lifeless, an ocean of dejection in his eyes; as if the words are on the tip of his tongue but he doesn’t know what to say, you can see it on his face. you wish you didn’t have to see him like this, not when you are the reason behind the lack of delight on his face. you know you should’ve stopped this earlier, you wish you could, and you were a step away from having him out of your life, but he looks at you once and you gravitate towards him like a moon does to its planet.

“yn, listen to me.” he cups your face in his hands, conquering your line of sight to the point he’s the only thing you could see. however, your vision had blurred from the tears dwelling in your eyes. “i like you. i wouldn’t even have talked to her if it wasn’t for the student council—”

“i don’t deserve you,” another interjection, another pang to his heart, your voice cracks— another line of conversation.

“when you say that, it makes me want to show you how much you deserve me and the other things you wish,” he holds your face even closer, as if you’re going to disappear the next moment.

it’s as if you both were cursed or just plain unlucky. you have your ideas about love, and he has his; and as much as you tried, none of you could make it work. you don’t think it’s the lack of feeling or intention that’s tearing you both apart— it’s one small seed of doubt planted in your head, and it’s doing its job. you brush his hands off your face, looking him in the eyes for one last time. “let’s stop,”

“you look as if the life inside of you has been sucked out, and it’s only nine,” kyoka comments as soon as the class is dismissed. you don’t pay attention to her words, letting a sigh roll off your lips to suffice as a response. “fight with iwaizumi?”

“no,” it’s a quick response and you don’t care if she believes you or not, even though the chances are that she most likely doesn’t. as much as you wish you could talk to her, you don’t think you can bring yourself to tell her your concerns regarding her and iwaizumi. having her by your side was a little nicer than being alone, but you decide to push her away this once, now that your worries can potentially cost you an invaluable friendship.

her gaze rests upon you for a brief second before she shakes her head in hopelessness— disappointment, at most— mumbling a faint ‘whatever’ which is carried away by the winds as soon as the word escapes his mouth. you don’t care, if you put it quite frankly. the lingering whispers of students in the hallways that talk about you and iwaizumi, or how they haven’t seen you with him for over a week now, don’t bother you anymore. you’ve learnt to ignore then and this time, the stars seemed to have aligned in your favour.

iwaizumi had to leave for inter-prefectural volleyball league the day you turned him down, albeit indirectly. you wanted to see him— still want to— and you almost strolled down to his place when he returned, which was two days prior from today. you’ve learnt to hold yourself back, accepting that there’s no point aiming for something out of your reach. you and iwaizumi are like stars in the distant sky. they attract, and when they get closer than they should’ve, it results in an explosion, consequently destroying everything within the close radius. even after iwaizumi returned to school, you’ve held yourself away from him, avoiding places he frequently visits. you even stopped going to the terrace in case he looks for you there.

you take a step away from iwaizumi and you notice iwaizumi’s world is beautiful as always; with or without you, it doesn’t matter.

“kyoka, what do you think of iwaizumi?” it’s an impromptu question, one that leaves her staring at you with perplexed eyes; but you’re too lost in your thoughts to even reconsider your words.

kyoka furrows her eyebrows and you wonder if she got a hint of what’s going inside your head. it wouldn’t be surprising if she does, honestly. kyoka has a good perception, and perhaps that’s the only reason why you’ve been avoiding her eyes for almost a week now. “and why are you asking that?”

“just answer the question.”

“i think of him . . . as your boyfriend.” the hint of playfulness is evident in her words, yet her eyes tell you otherwise.

“can you be serious for one second?” you counter with annoyance as you shut your notebook close, putting the pens back in your pencil case. after the argument with iwaizumi, hearing someone address him as your boyfriend puts you off. not that the two of you ever dated, but the thought of it was good while it lasted.

“serious about what, iwaizumi?” she chuckles and at this point, you’re convinced that she’s using your dilemma as a way of comedic relief. “yn, i don’t even think about him unless it’s regarding council stuff.”

perhaps, the last part is supposed to comfort you, though it mingles with the chatters and soon enough, slips out of your mind as if you never heard it. timing is irrelevant for two people who are meant for each other, that is what you once believed. but you and iwaizumi met during a time when you were such a mess, and had so much to figure out. you were busy getting a hold of your life while living a lie you told to save your friend, although it got you entangled deeper in the mess; and now just days later iwaizumi is claiming to have fallen for you. it sounds euphoric, but how could you believe it when everything around you reminds you of the possibility that you and iwaizumi were, maybe, always meant to meet, yet not meant to be?

“by the way, tell him i won’t be able to make it tomorrow since i’m busy,” kyoka’s voice pull your out of your thoughts.

a heavy feeling settles inside of you. “make it to where—”

“just tell him, he knows,” she runs out of the class as she always does, probably to hayato’s class because lately, her priorities have shifted towards the senior in question, now that they’ve gotten closer after the play. however, you don’t fail to notice how both iwaizumi and kyoka have been keeping things from you, like just now. you don’t pay it no mind, you really try to, but a part of your mind comes up with the chances that they could’ve been meeting without your knowledge.

you find yourself on the way to the terrace once again, after avoiding the location like a plague for days on repeat now. turns out, you couldn’t keep yourself away from it, for that’s the only place you feel like you’ll be able to breathe in when every other corner feels suffocating. a part of the reasons for your ventures to the rooftop is to get rid of all the baseless thoughts you’ve been coming up with. putting everything aside, doubting your best friend is the last thing you want to do. you don’t want to believe them, but you don’t have to hold onto a false hope either.

somewhere inside the back of your mind, you’re reminded to get back to class, though you don’t pay attention to that voice. you don’t want to go back inside the four walls and sit with the two people who are the reason behind all your worries, albeit you feel guilty for thinking of them this way. to put it in better words, you wouldn’t be able to focus either, for your mind is too busy thinking about everything else. and so, you let the soft winds soothe your mind as you lean against the railing, the cold metal against your cheeks as you close your eyes in an attempt to think about anything but the boy you wish to hear from the most at the moment.

“i looked for you all ‘round the school, y’know?” iwaizumi’s voice pop up from the entrance, making you flinch at his sudden arrival. it frightens you how you didn’t hear his footsteps approaching as you always do. however, those feelings wash away with the waves of cold breeze brushing against your nape, sending shivers down your spine.

it reminds you of the day you had confessed to him, and you had dragged him to the rooftop, same location in the exact same weather, where he had rejected you before frankly asking you to give him a chance at getting to know you better. the day, all you could think about were the points about how iwaizumi is so likeably unlikeable. you had always thought of him as a foreign creation, something made so intricately with extreme focus so as to avoid all chances of faults and mistakes. iwaizumi, to you, wasn’t someone who you despised because of your differences or rather, how perfect he is. dislike would be a strong word to summarise the emotions you initially had towards him, indifference would be a better term.

albeit, you find it humorous how your feelings towards the said boy have changed over the span of just a few weeks. you wouldn’t say it’s because you ‘fell’ for iwaizumi, but rather because you got a chance to look at him without filters. it’s as if you got a chance to meet him backstage, away from all the roles he has to play about being an ideal student and an ideal child for every parent out there. yeah, maybe his kindness and captivating personality played a role in changing your opinions towards him but, most of it has been because you were able to notice the puddles of similarities between him and above, above the impression that iwaizumi and you belonged to different worlds.

“if you’ve noticed, i always come to the rooftop if i don’t feel well,” you mumble above the sound of wind howling around with slight disappointment evident in your voice. perhaps, after all this time, you had at least expected him to look for you on the rooftop everyday, knowing that the only place you’d ever choose to hide yourself is under the vast expanse of sky, in front of the cityscape.

“is that your test paper?” he asks, pointing his index finger towards your hand, and that’s the moment you realise you’ve been holding onto it for a while now. iwaizumi takes it from your hand with slight hesitation in his actions as if he’s taking all the measures to not provoke you. however, the words that leave his mouth suffice of all the incitement his actions could’ve offered. “geez, you’re getting scores in single digits.”

a chuckle rolls off his tongue as he goes through your answers, making you groan before you snatch the paper from his hands. “it’s my first time,”

there’s an undertone of solicited jealousy in your voice, a glint of anger seeping through because even if your scores have always been a few levels before iwaizumi’s, they never hit the single digits until now. you wonder if he would believe you if you said you always received perfect scores up until second year of middle school. call it a change in air or whatever, but switching schools in the middle of your elementary school years turned out to be an awful choice since your grades fell down by a few percent; and despite being able to recover them to the point where you could maintain a reputable position in your grade, they never reached the same height again as they used to.

much to your and your parents’ disappointment, your grades declined further in highschool. while the reason could be the extreme curriculum that high schoolers have to follow, you like to blame iwaizumi for that. you’ve been in the same class as him for two years now and every time he receives an award, something inside of you dies. you aren’t jealous of his achievements, nor do you think he doesn’t deserves the compliments and honours he gets. you spent two years looking for the reason behind your indifference towards the campus crush, only to realise that you’ve been maintaining your distance because he reminds you of everything you could’ve been if things didn’t go the wrong way.

iwaizumi sighs, pressing more of his weight against the railings, leaning towards the as in an attempt to look further down. “you should get a tutor before finals. i mean, i’m always down to—”

“can you stop acting like nothing happened?” you cut him off, half-annoyed, half-impatient. originally, you wanted to stop talking about academics; but then it occurs to you how normal iwaizumi is, as if you didn’t have an argument and haven’t been talking for almost a week now. while you admire him for his ability to strike a conversation in all situations, even under heavy circumstances, something about it this time didn’t sit right with you.

“what happened?” he asks, but it’s almost as if he has been expecting you to ask you this question.

and at the same time, you hope he doesn’t find you weird for bringing this up after you’ve told him to call it quits on you. “i broke up with y—”

“we weren’t even dating in the first place,” ouch, you think, and it didn’t occur to you how hurtful it sounds until you heard it from iwaizumi himself. “and if you think i’m giving up just because you think i look better with kyoka, then you’re wrong.”

“do you ever just look at me and wonder why you fell for me?” you let your words replace the silence looming above you and iwaizumi, allowing your eyes to meet his’ as if they’re having a conversation of their own. “because i do,”

“i’m not as good as you— not even close to being as good as you. i was an average student and now i’m getting scores in single digits, i’m neither good at art, nor at sports. i’m not as kind as you, i get into fights, get detentions, i can’t help you with council works, i can’t help you with anything because you already know how to do everything.” there’s a smile dancing on your face for some reason. perhaps, you’re hoping for him to realise his worth, finally accepting that he deserves someone better thank you. “don’t you think you deserve someone who is almost, if not as, perfect as you?”

another trail of silence follows as you attempt to decipher the look on his face. you take a step back, running your mind all over the mess you’ve created, and you end up wondering— what’s the point of this? you’ve been selfish for so long, it shouldn’t hurt to stay that way for a tad bit longer. even before you had realised your feelings for iwaizumi, you were aware of the impossibility of the two of you; so being selfish in this case was a luxury you never had the chance to choose. it was a game of push and pull from the start. you spent days playing with his heart, making him believe that you were desperately in love with him, and when you tell him the truth, iwaizumi accepts it like just another as-a-matter-of-fact about life. that’s when you realised you didn’t deserve iwaizumi, not by a long shot.

perhaps, you don’t deserve iwaizumi at all, not even the small parts of him you’ve been able to experience over the past few weeks. you don’t know if you’d be able to continue living your life the same way without iwaizumi, watching him pursue someone else— someone better— but it’s everything you wish for him. while iwaizumi is everything you’ll ever need, you can’t have him settle for someone less. after all, nothing in the world could compensate for the shortfall.

“is that how you think of me?” he chuckles as if you cracked a joke. iwaizumi doesn’t spare you a glance for the next few seconds, letting his eyes linger over the invisible patterns he’s creating with his fingers, on the railing. there’s a desist but you don’t think he’s waiting for an answer to his question. it’s like a verbal punctuation, like a semicolon before he exhales heavily, turning his gaze back to you.

“yn, did you know i failed in english in middle school?” he begins just like any one another as a matter-of-fact conversation he would initiate during lessons. “i’m good at sketching but not at painting, i do even the simplest of calculations on paper, can’t spell assassination without autocorrect—”

“no way,” you interject, letting your eyebrows crease as you look at him in disbelief. well, of course, you wouldn’t think iwaizumi hajime would have trouble spelling assassination, if anything.

“yes way, i really can’t.” he clarifies, emphasising the ‘really’ to make sure it sounds believable. “i once burned coffee, i have terrible sleeping habits, i’m lazy, i fight with my sister all the time, was almost suspended in primary school for beating a kid and—” another impromptu pause and he takes a step towards you, leaning closer than you already were, resting his forehead against yours. “— i’m in love with you.”

it sounds like a heavenly confession in the way his eyes look into yours as if you’re the only thing worth looking at. his hands slip into yours at the right moment, giving your heart the push it needed to pace relentlessly as if it knew no boundaries. his lips curl into a lovesick smile as he interlocks his fingers with yours. “i think we make a perfect match.”

you slide your hand out of his’, “you sure do know how to shut me up,”

“and i know of many ways to do that,” you notice his lips curl into his signature smirk, one that makes you smile involuntarily as well.

the two of you bask in silence as it blankets you under the comfort it’s offering. you hate being in situations where there’s no absolute answer and your mind keeps oscillating between two choices that you can’t bring yourself to choose from. it’s humorous and equally irritating how one moment, you think you’d be just fine without iwaizumi and the next, you feel like drowning when he’s not next to you. perhaps, it’s the mood of time, the feeling of forever. the belief that you both could live and die by your word and never regret a thing. from what you could decipher, iwaizumi has always been in love with everything around him when he waltzed into your life as if it’s his own; and now that you’re taking your steps into his, slowly and gradually, all you want is to be a part of that. you would wake up thinking about how iwaizumi and you are like parallel lines— always close, but never together, but then you’d go to bed with the belief that somewhere, in some timeline, perhaps your paths were meant to intersect. you wouldn’t say it is love, but you couldn’t say it isn’t either.

at times, you wonder why iwaizumi chose you, and it’s beyond your insecurities about academics and things that separate him from you. it’s rather a rhetorical question, one that iwaizumi, probably, has already answered, but you couldn’t help but ask again— why me. you have always been a nuisance to those who know you. despite receiving unconditional love from your parents and relatives, one would always hear them complain about how much of a bother you could be. however, you’ve never heard iwaizumi complain about it. it’s as if he knows you can be handful, but then again, his hands are always empty when it comes to you. you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t pursue yourself if you were in iwaizumi’s shoes. you’re too busy being lost in your own worries and concerns that you can’t see the person who adores you to death; and if somehow you do, then it’s impossible for you to believe you could be of so much important to someone that they’re willing to embrace single piece of you as if it belongs to the museum.

“yn, get that you’re scared. you might feel that we won’t make it and that’s okay. i’m not asking you to disregard your worries. i respect them, and in return, i’m asking you to respect me.” iwaizumi says out of the blue, replacing the silence with his melodic voice. “you don’t have to give an answer now. we can stay the way we’ve been, no labels, i won’t force anything upon you. in other words, i’m asking you to let me like you—”

“and then one day when i suddenly feel up to it, i’ll accept you then,” you cut him off, there’s a smile on your face before you playfully hit his arm. “seriously, iwaizumi? quoting a dialogue right now?”

“i mean it, though.” he pulls you into a hug, chin resting above your head as he draws circles on your back, and you give in as if there’s no better place in the world than his arms. you may not be sure about him, or your feelings for him, but if it means you can spend a few more seconds in his arms, then you don’t mind reconsidering your decisions.

“i love you,” his voice is no louder than a whisper and, you’re sure it wouldn’t have been audible if you weren’t next to him, with his arms around you. “i apologise for taking so much time to say this, and it’s fine if you think it’s rushed. take your time and sort your feelings. all i know is that i love you, i always have, and all i’m asking you is to let me love you.”

his last four words ring in your head like an alarm. you look up, his grip loosens around your waist but never lets you out of his hands— there’s a puddle of emotion in his eyes. you see love, you see sadness, and fear, it’s a given. a smile rests on his lips but you could feel the hesitation in his fingertips soak through your shirt and exude through your skin. his words are the same, but it’s the first time you think of the possibility that maybe, he’s scared too. the future is predetermined and nothing could refute fate’s design. but if, even for a brief second, you can have the opulence of stars aligning in your favour, then you’d want to welcome it with arms wide open and a heart ready to walk into the storm.

“can i kiss you?” albeit not the words you wanted to say at the moment, you don’t mind the intent. however, your doubts cave in when his hands ghost up your waist, feet taking a step away from you without a second thought.

“no,” it feels like your heart has stopped. “you’re scoring in single digits. i think you should focus on academics instead of wanting to kiss a guy,”

“gosh, iwa. that’s brutal.” and the very next second, it comes back to life as your lips curl into a smile. “are you going to tutor me?”

“yes,” you chuckle at the cheery smile on his face as he takes your hand in his, planting a soft kiss on your palms. “and we can kiss after your studies.” well, it’s unlikely that you’d be able to get a good score in just three months, especially now that you have iwaizumi to serve as the main source of distraction; but the unlikelihood of falling in love with him? zero, because you realise that he has always been in love with you and you just caught up to him.

NOTE. if u made it till here im gna kiss u and wish that you only have good days from now

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