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deadghosy · 1 month

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How they would react to teen sinner! Reader getting catcalled/ S/A:

WARNING: long depending on your reading speed, explicit language, uncomfortable themes, read if you don’t wanna read anything you have encountered in life like this. If you are dealing with s/a please call your national hotline. This will be the only time I write something like this cause this is a serious topic.

LUCIFER

It was late in the pride ring as you snuck out of the hotel wanting to get snacks and a drink. I mean shit you died in the late 2010’s, you’re use to this shit. So you went to a store as you didn’t see an older sinner smirk, slowly gazing your body up and down as you grab a pair of chips and energy soda.

“Hey sweetie…” the older sinner says as he slowly appears behind you. You divest even bother to look at him as you felt him get closer. You whipped around and glare at him only to see such an ugly sinner who looks homeless as well.

“Hey now, I’m not gonna harm you.” The man says grabbing your arm and pulling you toward him. “I just wanna see your pretty face little boy/girl.” Your eyes widened shocked. You tried to pull your arm as he tugs tighter. You yelled for him to let you go as he dragged you out the store. You were not gonna let some creep take you! So you bit his arm hard as fuck. He let you go, but not without punching you.

You ate the punch but start to run to the hotel you know and love. You ran as your heart beat for safety and away from anything else. You didn’t think it would be like this, but what could you except. This is hell itself. There’s a lot of ass holes and bastards that deserve to be here.

You ran inside ignoring the look of a certain king who was sitting down in the lounge room, he swore he saw tears fall down your cheeks. He felt his heart ache to know what was wrong with you as he slowly followed after you.

A soft knock was heard as you look up to see the king of hell, the man who always gave you ducks when you first came here. “Kid are you okay? I heard you cry?” He said worried seeing you tear up hearing his worried voice. It wasn’t making it better as you ran into his arms. He was move back a bit at your usually tough attire cracking into a soft and scared one. Now he was concerned.

He set you back in bed as you rant out about what happened, even giving a description of what he looked like. After a bit of comfort in for Lucifer and him petting your back a lot. You sniffled a little, feeling better than what you felt as Lucifer smiled at you sleeping against his lap. He sighs sensing you sleeping as he poofs away from your sleeping body.

“DONT worry kid…that bastard isn’t going to see another hellish day…” Lucifer says walking out of the hotel as his hat overcasted his face.

It was a new day as you woke up to play your regular tv show only for the news to play. “BREAKING 666 NEWS!!! ALLEGED PEDOPHILE DEAD AT GRIMM’S MARKET AS HIS HEAD WAS-” the news was cut off by Lucifer who had a guilty expression as you had a wide eye expression shocked that the bastard got some quick karma.

ALASTOR

You and alastor went on a walk together as he wanted you to get off your pesky small picture rectangle. He’s talking about your damn phone.💀

“And I told the fellow gentleman to make my meat, medium rar-” before Alastor could finish his story about how he went to a restaurant. You groaned tired of this, you wanted to sleep and be on your hell phone since you miss the human world.

Alastor rolls his eyes with a smile, he pinches your cheek making you huff. “No need for an attitude!~” he said in a song tune voice you pushed him away from you embarrassed. “I don’t need to fix my attitude old man..” you say walking a bit forward ahead of the deer demon.

The radio demon chuckles, but the chuckles stops when seeing you immediately get whistled at by a male sinner who eyes you. You flipped the sinner off before going back to Alastor, holding the older’s hand as he slightly move in front of you.

It seemed like this asshole was trying to talk to you, but he couldn’t as alastor smiles down at the sinner. “C'mere sweet thing. Why don’t you come and get a drink with me.” The sinner says. You and Al narrow your eyes at the sinner, you weren’t budging from behind alastor who stands strong and confident

“I don’t think they will be going with you anytime soon my dear fellow.” Alastor says with a strained smile. The sinner was definitely new and didn’t know who was companying you at this very moment.

“I don’t think I give a fuck.” The sinner says teaching his hand out to your frame.

The sinner tried to make an attempt to grab your arm from the radio demon. There was a ring of static in the air whilst making the sinner stop grabbing your arm. Alastor grabs the arm that dares to try and take you from him. Alastor smiles eerily at the sinner.

“I’ll teach you some respect you filthy pest.” He says as static seems to boom the area before he goes full demon mode and drag the filth to the alley to have a nice “talk.”

Their screams were broadcasted on his radio station the day after they whistled at you. Alastor made sure to have his shadow follow you for a few months before he was sure you were fully okay. Harassment towards a minor, is a big no-no.

VAGGIE

You wanted to help her get more flowers for a decoration of a trust exercise, so she let you run the errand.

You ran out the hotel happy and excited. You always weee excited to help the hotel ever since you died. You knew your mom was in heaven so you wanted to be redeemed quickly and possible.

You went to the flower shop smiling which gained the attention of a female who smile sweetly at you. She approached you holding a flower. You knew not to take things from strangers, even demons as Charlie and vaggie told you.

But it’s a flower, what’s the worse that can happen. Plus you need flowers for the event itself. As you grabbed the flower, the flower sprays out this gas that made you feel slight drowsy. You feel your body limp as the woman comes closer to you.

You try to push her off as she caresses your body. With your mustered up strength, you use your sharp nails/claws to stab her eyes and run.

The flower drug was slowly taking affect until you did a few symbols on yourself. You learnt it from Lucifer as he gave you a book. The drug wore off but your mind was scrambling. You felt yucky and violated. As you bursted through the hotel door, accidentally running into vaggie’s arms.

“What the fuck happened!!?” Vaggie says concerned as she sees the bruises on your wrist. Her eyes widen. “What. Happened..” she says seriously.

You explained the situation while sobbing softly. Vaggie comforted you in her hold as she closed her eyes ashamed at how she wasn’t there to protect you. She was suppose to your guarden. Your parental figure.

Vaggie takes you upstairs, run you a bath and just watched you softly. Guilt in her eyes for not being a good parent to you and just follow you to make sure you were okay.

The whole night, she stayed close to you. Not even dropping her guard when it comes to you. You are too precious to go through this. She just hopes you can recover.

She’s not letting you out of her sight ever again. Hell she might teach you how to fight , but might go overprotective on you and keep you in the hotel until she and you were sure to go outside again.

CHARLIE

It was during a trust exercise with one of the new residents…

It was a trust fall activity as Charlie shows the residents how it goes. You say what you have in your mind and do the trust fall. After Charlie does it with vaggie. It was your turn and the sinner’s.

The sinner looked calm and you were anxious as you never done the trust fall game. Even in the human world.

As you stood on the stand talking to every member of this exercise and Charlie. She gives you a thumbs up which made you smile and gain confidence in talking. You fell backwards into the sinner’s hold as they caught you.

But they didn’t let you go. You tried to tell them but they didn’t let go still. You felt their hand travel around you and gr0pe your lower and waist. Your eyes widen as you try to move away from the bastard.

Tears were in your eyes as you hyperventilate at how you feel their touch. It burns, it feels like lit burns. Charlie notices what is going on. She gets up and pulls the bastard from you. She pushes you behind her as she looks behind her to see if you were okay. Whilst she does that, she glares heavily at the sinner.

“WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU CAN TOUCH THEM LIKE THAT?!” Charlie yells as her demon form was slipping out of anger seeing you run towards her. Hell was going loose as the sinner tried to back away from the raging aura Charlie was releasing.

Before Charlie can send hell fire at the bastard who dares to gr0pe you, you grabbed her arm. You know she isn’t really the type to kill someone and might regret it. So while you grabbed her arm, she calmed down and stared at you. Her yellow pupils going back to red as she glares at the sinner.

“Your stay isn’t welcome here..” Charlie says lastly as alastor takes the sinner away, probably to kill them and eat em.

Charlie takes you up stairs as you grip onto her arm. Her gaze on you soften with protectiveness and worry. She can’t believe that happened to you.

She checks on you everyday and has to mane sure you are with a resident before leaving the hotel. She feels guilty knowing she wasn’t there to protect you. Charlie must definitely hands razzle and dazzle to you if you are going out or going to sleep.

HUSK

A drunk resident had walked into your room as you were busy doing art work.

It was a night that you were relaxing in your room just drawing. You always had a passion to draw, maybe even to be an artist.

Your father figure was down stairs tending the bar. Husk was giving drinks to a resident, husk could tell that the drunk bastard has enough. He told the bum to go upstairs as he had enough beers.

Husk watches the person go upstairs, stumbling and staggering. The cat demon rolls his eyes as he hears a door close, assuming the sinner went to their designated room.

You were so busy listening to music you didn’t notice someone enter your room. As you put down your pencil, going for a crayon. You noticed a resident you would see at the bar. Your eyes widen smelling the strong alcohol from their body as they walked closely to you.

A curling scream came from your room making husk immediately drop the glass he was cleaning. He rushes upstairs to see the problem and why you screamed. He sees you being pinned down by the sinner he was tending to earlier.

“GET THE FUCK OF THEM!” Husk yells, eyes filled of anger. All he saw was red as he pulls the bastard off you and starts to beat the person up repeatedly. Their face was bloodied as heavy breathing came out of their face. You stopped husk as you had already been traumatized. Husk stops, breathing heavy before he kicks the bastard all the way down stairs.

You sometimes still relive through that moment as husk stays beside your bed. Husk would have to calm your down from your panic attacks from that night as you lash out at your own “father”

“Kid. Kid! Calm down…it’s okay. I’m here for you..fuck. I’m here for you.” Husk says calmingly while you try to get out of his hold. Still in panic mode. He had to hold you tightly for you to understand that you were now safe.

Hot tears fall to your cheek as you sob painfully at what you just experienced. Your tears made husk’s heart break and shatter. He was just glad you were okay in your room for now.

He holds you to his chest as his fur called you down even more. You sniffled holding him tight as if he would disappear if you let him go.

He felt your heartbeat go slow as you fall asleep in his hold. He stays close to you the whole night as he promises that he will always protect you. You are like his own child since you came to the is shit hole.

He lets you stay by him in the bar as you fall asleep. He grumbles a lot remembering that night as he almost broke a glass in his hand. You are only a kid…

ANGEL DUST

You were sent to find angel dust, only to see him in a bar drunk. So what did you do? Try and drag him out only to drag into trouble

You went into the bar to see Angel drunk, he was also talking to some demons who smirked at his drunken state.

You scoffed going over to grab Angel dust. As you went to grab him, one of the demons made you sit on his lap as if you were ready to meet Santa Claus. But you weren’t as you headbutt the demon and grab Angel dust.

The rest of the demons pull out knives and gun. Your eyes widen as you rushed pout the bar door, sensing the demons on your tail.

You throw a beer bottle at one of the members, the shards went in their eyes. Even if it was a small trick, the screams distracted those asshole as you make a run for the hotel.

You gently laid angel dust in his bed as his eyes tears up, realizing the situation and what could’ve happened if you didn’t take advice from Vaggie about combat.

“Shit…I’m sorry for getting you in this shit.” Angel dust says as he looks away with a drunk shamed look. You sighed, you’re just a kid looking after a drunk adult.

Angel sobered up a bit after you left him in his room. His memory fuzzy, but it was clear that you were uncomfortable with those damn demons that were eyeing you. Even if you got pulled into someone’s lap, that made him disgusted.

He promised you when you first came here that he would protect you. You was like a little sibling to him. He couldn’t believe how he was a drunk asshole who couldn’t even protect someone he cared about most.

Angel was actually sober for months after that encounter. Worried you would run into those demons he was with that night. He would also make you more like force you to watch fat nuggets while he is at work.

He would probably make a deal with Valentino or probably mostly alastor to make sure you were safe since that day.

SIR PENTIOUS

You were trying to find Frank, one of the egg boiz in the pride ring only to run into trouble.

You found Frank being ganged by some sinner who looked from the modern era you are from. You looked around for something, and you found an old computer. Mustering up your strength, you threw that bitch at their head.

Frank runs to you, holding your leg tightly. He was happy to see you were okay with him. You and the egg right here was like family as you smile at how cute he was happy to see you. Pentious would be happy to see Frank is in good condition

You left the alley way and start to chat with the egg boy by your side. It was have been obvious that you were being watched as a female sinner stared at you and your body. You felt the gaze and scoff making Frank raise a brow until seeing the sinner. The sinner seemed scary for poor Frank.

A whistle was made towards you, you flipped them off as you picked up the poor egg who was trembling. He obviously was trying to seem strong for you but it fails as he holds tightly to you. The sinner lady smirks as she follows you. You felt more uncomfortable with Frank as Frank was trying to warn you that she was gaining speed for you. But you already knew.

You made a circle with your hand, a portal opened and it closed immediately when you entered it. The portal sent you to the hotel in one piece with the adorable egg boy.

Your face was stoic with some disgust in your eyes. Eyebrows furrowed on your face as you entered Pentious’s room with Frank.

“Ssssweetheart? What happened? Whatssss wrong?” Pentious says as he notices your disgusted look. "Nothing nothing. Here you go penny." You said brushing off the feeling on your shoulders. But it still noticeable in your body language.

Before you could walk out of the room after putting Frank down. Frank just had to open his eggy mouth. The egg confessed that you were catcalled and almost followed to the hotel until you did your powers you have conquered in hell.

“Why that behavior is not acceptable to a minor!! That bunch of filth shall learn to never mess with my dear friend.” Pentious says as he forces out of his room so you can get a fresh start on a new days and this time he is making baby gates for his eggs so they will not bother you anymore

He was planning all night to see what he can use as a revenge for the cat calling you had experienced. Frank was also giving sir Pentious ideas also. It seemed they both agreed on one plan to have your get back.

He used his machine weapons to destroy that monster who catcalled. He was definitely making sure the laser was fast so he can come back to you and make you cookies so you could feel better. For the rest of the week and probably month.

CHERRI BOMB

You wanted to grab a snack out for Cherri and you. You left the hotel as she started to stay, as you left you didn’t notice of couple of shark demons. The leader smirked flicking a cigarette from his mouth eyeing you. They whistled at you making you scoff and keep walking.

The leader nods his head at you as the sharks move towards you snickering. You felt their presence, luckily you brought your…damnit you left your pepper spray.

The leader grabs you trying to pull you into an alley as your eyes widen. In a heap of panic you screamed for help, that only made it worst. Next thing you felt was a slap to your cheek as you sobbed.

The leader and the members chuckle grabbing your hair. With one final effort your screamed, but it wasn’t an ordinary scream. It was a sonic one that blew them away (a/n: sorry if it sounded corny😕) With that you left in a hurry inside of the hotel. Tears running down your eyes, you ran upstairs passing Cherri who looked shocked to see you run pat her like nothing.

“Sweetie?” Cherri says softly, her Australian accent showing her absolute worry for you as she followed you into your room. She sees your face in your pillow. Softly sobbing, scared as your adrenaline was still high. She sat next to you softly holding you in her arms hoping you would open up. And you did after calming down.

After explaining what happened with a tired and broken voice, you couldn’t believe that this would happenu to you. You felt kinda yucky being touched but you felt safe with Cherri.

“What a fuckin' asshole. I bet his dick is small…don’t worry honey.” She says caressing your back as you sniffled before falling asleep.

In the aftermath, she blowed up their house in honor for you.🔥💗 no witnesses either.

HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED IT!

Remember that my requests are closed, so please if you are new to my blog check out my other work as I am currently working on other requests‼️ THAT ARE IN MY DRAFTS, not the ones people are asking me. So please don’t DM me and respect that please.

And mostly, please seek help if you are going through any abuse or assault related issues. Everyone needs to speak up in their own experiences. ❤️

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masterthespianduchovny · 1 year

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If I have Taylor swift mutual, you’ve managed to avoid my criticism of her for years bc I tend not to post about her on here at all.

I don’t hate her, but I fucking loathe her brand and the following it’s cultivated. And it bothers me so deeply because she exploits her fans and society with victim narratives, which plays into white supremacy ideologies. If you’re skeptical of this claim, ask yourself why someone who doesn’t old nazi ideology has such a loud and vocal neo nazi/white supremacist following?

Usually this type of vocal support originates when the artist shares far right wing ideologies and is public about it. Taylor is a Democrat and largely support left wing beliefs. They didn’t randomly attach themselves to her, she exploited certain beliefs and identities and attracted the wrong type of fan.

But this post isn’t about those type of fans, but rather, why the way she operates is loathesome and I’m sick of how society, fans, and people coddle her.

This all started with a black man daring to say a blonde haired, blue eyed white girl wasn’t deserving of an award.

Before anyone says, “you’re defending Kanye.”

Fuck Kanye!

However, the 2009 mtv vmas conditioned people how to treat and perceive Taylor, which is as a victim.

Now I know someone is outraged and is thinking, “Taylor WAS a victim.”

While that is true, does anyone honestly think that moment should’ve been as big as it was? Let’s be for real. Should the media have milked that moment for an entire fucking year and people still talk about it 13 years later.

An award about a fucking basic ass music video. And I don’t care for the single ladies music either, so it’s not like I have any skin in the game.

It was a bad moment, but it should’ve only lasted a moment.

Y’all want to know why we still talk about it? Why Taylor can still milk and exploit that moment, which she does?

Because she was a blonde hair, blue eyed white girl and this was a scary, arrogant black man.

Back then, people argued that Kanye targeted her because she was a girl. That this would’ve never happened if it had been a man. The racial implications are clear.

This signified to the nation that she needed to be protected.

For those who are wondering why I’m stressing blonde haired, blue eyed white woman that’s because it’s important: it’s who nazis believe are the perfect and superior beings.

For people who believe that Kanye targeted Taylor for this reason, keep in mind: this the same man who said, “George bush doesn’t care about black people” on national tv in front of a bigger audience. Why would he specifically target Taylor or be afraid to confront a man if he literally called out the most powerful man in the world at the time?

If this had been James blunt who’d pulled that stunt, it would’ve died out. But it was fucking Kanye. And the media obsessed and obsessed about it. Because they already hated him and he was already polarizing, but still a fucking superstar. They made sure we never forgot what happened that night. And instead of people asking, “why are they making this such a big deal”, people ate it up. Like they were asking this man what he recently deceased mother would think about what he did when one: he was only drunk as a result of his mom’s death and his difficulty in dealing with it two: again, this man called out a president on tv, Taylor was small potatoes in comparison.

Like this moment should’ve been akin to when lil mama got on the stage with Alicia keys and Jay z. It’s a moment we randomly remember, but largely forget about.

Admittedly, taylor was young and presumably overwhelmed with everything that happened that night and what came afterwards. However, taylor never sat and thought, “although Kanye ruined my moment, that situation was completely overblown.”

No. I’m text, she constantly leans into or plays into that night whenever given the chance. She loves to play into narrative that Kanye hates her and is feuding with her. That’s she trying to ignore him and get over that ordeal.

Thing is: anyone who has listen to Kanye’s music can tell you that if Kanye is beefing with someone you’ll know it. He’s very obvious about it. Kanye flat out apologized to her, referenced the incident in a song, said he was pressured into apologizing a specific way, and then rarely if ever referenced it again until 2016. And that timeline is important. Because Taylor was the one making songs or references to him/that night, yet claimed that he’s the one who can’t let it go.

Now before we get to 2016, leading up to this, most of Taylor’s popular songs or moments was about her being a victim (of a bad relationship) or fighting bad against someone who “wronged” her. In some way, shape, or form there was a victim narrative happening.

She was very loud about the exes that wronged her, but when she was clearly and the only one in the wrong, she’s quiet about it with her music. She sings about it, but does make a big to do about it. It’s not the centerpiece.

During this time, Kanye sends her flowers, she presents him an award, and they have one or two other good moments—they also publicly compliment each other.

Then, “Famous” happens.

But wait, I’m going to backtrack again. Remember how people said she was receiving unfair criticism for singing about her relationships and exes and that if she were a man she’d be praised?

Funny enough, there’s a genre about relationships whether it’s failed, successful, reminiscing over whatever and that’s R&B. The R&B girls (and guys) have been singing about exes and shit since foreva and they didn’t receive any of this criticism. Hell, literally every Adele album is about relationships or heartbreak and, at least, three of them are about real relationships.

What’s the difference between them and Taylor?

We almost always know who she’s talking about and that a huge problem.

She’s lucky that most of her exes are famous—well, no, they’re lucky. Can you imagine being a regular Joe and being attacked because a relationship didn’t work out and Taylor wrote you out as the bad guy? Because lets be real, do we believe that every relationship (not every bc we know she did Tom and Taylor dirty, which she receives very little to no criticism about from her fans) she was not at fault for and they were the only ones to do wrong?

Because if you don’t believe they, you should have an issue with how she operates—no longer past tense—and that her exes get harassed and attacked because of her music. Because we sure as hell would have a problem if the genders were flipped.

Or how she wrote bad blood about some fucking backup dancers that left to perform for Katy, and then made a video with all her famous friends, which is effectively bullying. Yet, that’s ignored.

So we get to 2016 and Kanye calls and asks for her blessing. Taylor seems to be genuinely receptive of this conversation, which is important to note because people claim she was being agreeable not to anger him or whatever. When he asks her approval, she basically says that it’s okay for him to say whatever he wants bc it’s his music. And this conversation is important, but not for reasons Taylor stans believe.

When the song drops, taylor gives the impression that they didn’t talk or really talk, which is false. Kanye was trying to have that discussion with her and they did to an extent. He didn’t call her to just discuss her putting it on her Twitter account, her wanted her to be okay and not offended by it. Why would he ask her to put the song on her TL and expect her not to listen or be offended by it??? What sense does that make?

People make this about her being called “that bitch”, which is why her essentially telling Kanye he didn’t need her permission and that he should write what he wanted is important. She didn’t hear the added like, but she did give him carte blache to say whatever he wanted. This doesn’t mean she had to be okay with it, I get why she was offended. But she could’ve said, “we did discuss the song and I knew he was going to say some risqué things, but I don’t feel comfortable being called a bitch.”

This acknowledges that a conversation happened and she knew he was going to say controversial shit, but that revisions were made.

Also, the line about them having sex…she was completely okay with that during the phone call. Yet, when it was released not only did she fake outrage, she made a Grammy speech addressing it. And let’s be clear: fame doesn’t equal success or acclaim. For someone who is an acclaimed lyricist, she should know better and does.

This was her exploiting her image and goodwill vs Kanye’s image and perception.

She misrepresented that conversation and made up a narrative all while being asked to be kept out of it. Then to claim that Kanye secretly recorded her to embarrass her???

Although there was no way for her to know, presumably, that Kanye’s been recording his life since the fucking 90s to flat out confidently state that he only did that to hurt and harm her was deliberate. Like, she factually stated that as if it was known only for a documentary to be released 5-6 years later that proved Kanye did record all aspects of his life.

And for people who need this explained to them: part of the conversation around this time was how he was targeting and harassing her, which this “secret�� recording was evidence of. Because when you actually listen to the conversation to understand and not take sides, this appears to be a communication issue, esp culturally.

Although it makes sense why Taylor would take insult at being called a bitch 1. Some women don’t 2. Rap is very misogynistic and bitch is sometimes perceived as a compliment as well as the idea that a woman would reward them with sex for whatever reason. But again, Taylor never objected to that line during the call. Was not offended and just said others (I believe feminists), but that she’d be in on it and would surprise people after it was all over. And we can say she was saying this to placate him, but wouldn’t you say that’s on her and not him. He asked her opinion and was genuine?

Despite this back and forth, who is the one writing and singing about this?

Taylor.

She says she wants to be left out of the narrative and left along, yet she brings it up.

And we have to ask why it’s so bad for others to discuss their dealings with her, but it’s okay for her to obsessively talk about her dealings with others. She wants to be left alone while not leaving them alone and knowing her fans will harass them.

Like she’s rehashing old shit (relationships) in midnights. Why??? I know the concept behind it, but it still seems childish, obsessive, and like she can’t let anything go, which her fans seem to be fine with.

And can someone tell me if she ever addressed slutshaming her ex’s then girlfriend who was then harassed by her fans? Because while she may have been going, thats still fucked up.

Or how that situation with her masters was not only misrepresented, but her later going on to discuss Scooter’s divorce is weird as fuck. And before someone argues about how she has a right to own her masters, my point of contention isn’t that. It’s the fact that most artists don’t own their masters and she tried to position it as sexism as to why she was denied to ability to own hers. And that the only reason scooter got investors to buy it with him was to spite her.

This is all her exploring white woman tears and white supremacy ideology. How is she both a shrewd business woman and a poor victim taken advantage of??? Can both exist? Sure, but not in the narrative that she’s crafted.

She always need some person, powerful figure, expectation to fight against and conquer. She may have taken a break with Evermore and folklore, but she’s back at it and people just eat it right up.

She’s petty, spiteful, vindictive, and refuses to let anything go, despite her success and not needing to relying on this shit.

And you can’t say shit about her without someone feeling offended and personally attacked.

Now some may think I’m a huge fan of Taylor’s because I know so much and have opinions or obsessed with her, but I’ve successfully avoided most of her music for years. I keep up with pop culture and can tell you a lot about many artists without actually listening to or keeping up with them. Esp when their fans obsess about their all of the time.

But ask yourself why you’re so protective of her in comparison to the other girls. Why is she the only one worth defending like this?

#anti taylor swift #taylor swift critical #long post

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fantasyideas1 · 1 year

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jokes You listen to your wife's whining like a vaginal tampon absorbs everything. Got herself a gigolo, a hot, passionate freeloader, whom she adopted You smell like five hundred lumberjacks I don’t know what you ate, but those guys in chemical protection still don’t calm down, they still don’t give us a house, they found what kind of life, your sub-atomic ass produces radiation Love is like waiting in line for the toilet Is it pimples or caviar It's crawling with vestigial twins like pimples How to turn everyone into vegetarians? I don't know ask zoophiles from farmers Conception is not a shooting gallery You are so pleased to give money, because of your beauty you don’t even understand what happened, like a casino machine that pleasantly cleans hope for the future Look, all credit ATMs were given pistols, yes, waste all the money, turn out your pockets, quickly, conveniently, legally, shamelessly, and most importantly, a legal way to rob, behind his wife she also has a gun, waiting for his salary, stupidity is now expensive, oh my God , she shoots at an ATM, ATM kids ran out, the children of officials will receive a little less than a billion tenge a month, oh my God, a shootout between relatives of an ATM, one ATM was transformed into a pimp robot, and the relatives of a man who was milked by an ATM and his wife, a sperm bank milking machine, ignore , otherwise they will ask for alimony, or they will take them to the gigolo farm and then they will milk our penises using special machines without porn Her silicone lips are like a hemorrhoid tumor Her silicone lips are like a pink frosted donut She dominates the relationship, uses your anus as an ashtray Your drunken husband seems to walk on glasses like shoes You are an attention donor He has a testosterone brutal voice, like a monster from a horror movie, he has three male balls, the third in his throat And then the honeymoon, he sticks a bee sting, and then he's just sorry Oh my God! So naked guys caged by a female gorilla and caged by a female panda, oh no, those are our bestiality pickups, you see human animal porn there, there's porn on TV all day, that's how we taught endangered animals to breed, we doubled the panda population , gently brought back romance and sexual relations with males of their species, the same method is planned to be used on endangered species of nations and races, we need more pickups How were you started? Let's listen to the porn dubbing of your parents' sex using this toy as an example. The cow says mu, the dog says gaff, the goat says bae, the pig says oink oink Chaste no leading to poverty or venereal yes leading to an abundance of problems, the deadly stupidity of chaos Tranquilizers of laziness helped to save Your wife found your stash of self-respect Why does it say sausage grill above your vagina

Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich

#quotes

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rebelliouslala · 3 years

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A Man Who Plays Volleyball.

happy birthday my beloved little anime boy, Ushijima Wakatoshi!

summary and warnings!: OC!Yuri-Chan (they are there as you, the reader!) x Wakatoshi, fix it fic! Shiratorizawa wins to go to the Nationals; angst, descriptions of parental abuse, descriptions of anxiety, flashbacks, a form of s/lf h/rm, accidental cause to injury, unwanted touching, a creepy guy, divorce drama, this story describes the suppression of men’s mental health, a good spoonful of fluff at the end

word count; ~10k words

a/n: this was SUPER rushed. but, i love him. you have no idea how much i saw myself in satori. in wakatoshi. i love shiratorizawa. may this alternate universe make the original ushijima wakatoshi smile :)

The Shiratorizawa volleyball player, Ushijima Wakatoshi walked home. He carried his volleyball clothes in a duffel bag. He wore a white hoodie with a purple outline. It said, printed, “Ushijima #1” on the back. He walked in silence. Because he preferred it. He felt tired.

The Miracle Boy felt tired. The crickets in the warm farm fields began to buzz with the swift wind that came from behind. He closed his eyes and stopped. He softly smiled as he looked up at the cloudy autumn sky. The sun was setting.

How long has he waited for this day; His eyes, to anyone else, would be dull. But that day, after his battle against Karasuno, they sparkled like freshly oiled olives. His hairdo was gently ruffled as a train passed by to his left, and he took a deep breath. He pumped his fist as a tear went down his cheek.

“I won.”

Once the Miracle Boy arrived home; He placed away his uniform in a laundry machine, and gently sucked on a popsicle. He blinked a few times, watching the machine churn and churn and churn and churn and churn and churn and- His lower back ached. He leaned against the wall, continuing to gently bite the tip. Satori once called him insane for biting ice cream.

“Doesn’t it hurt?!” Satori cried during their summer training. Wakatoshi had offered his land to use for training. Coach Washijo had taken the offer with happiness. He had bit his thick popsicle in response. “No.”

Wakatoshi turned to a sob from the threshold. There sat on its diaper ass one of the Ushijima twins, Kazane, who blinked. She had a straight bob and palm green eyes. She whined.

The boy sighed. He gently bent down and picked her up. She babbled stupidly and gripped at his hair, then whined more for his popsicle. “No.” He continued to bite it and he frowned as Kazane started to whimper. Wakatoshi now began to bounce her and he looked at his uniform as it continued to wash. She stopped making noises and instead clung onto him.

“Wakatoshi? Wakatoshi have you seen—?” He let his mother find him as she sighed. She had straight black hair, one that was in a messy bun since she gave birth to the twins.

“Hello Oka-san.”

“Wakatoshi, you know she can’t have ice cream!” She said, exasperated.

“I know that. She is trying to take it.” He continued biting it.

“Here, gimme,” Ms. Ushijima took Kazane, and let her soft cry in her neck. Wakatoshi simply continued to look at the swirl of his clothes. “I called your father.”

Wakatoshi turned, and he blinked. Once. Twice. His eyebrows furrowed, but he straightened himself up. “Is he not busy?”

“Yeah, but you know, it’s nice because you‘re going to Nationals-, isn’t that what you wanted, Wakatoshi?”

The boy sucked on the stick as the machine stopped. He went down to take the uniform, and began to fold. “Yes.”

She sighed, “Stop acting dramatic. I know you’re happy. Oh- I also invited your girlfriend over.” Wakatoshi now walked past his mother, and his baby sister as he went to his room. He hung his shirt and pants. Ms. Ushijima followed him, “I suggest you wear some nice formal wear, got it? And I want you both in the family room.”

“I was thinking of a nice berry bush, a purely platonic meeting. In the back—?”

“Ugh, fine. Whatever. Sure. Remember to change Mayumi’s diapers.”

Yuri had met Wakatoshi at the side door of his house. Yuri hopped up and gave him a kiss to his jawline. “Good afternoon, ‘Toshi-Chan!”

Wakatoshi blushed. He held his cheek. “Afternoon, my flower.”

The wind that messed up Yuri’s hair passed, and Wakatoshi with no hesitation helped them fix it, after a soft question if he could. He gently petted their hair back.

The couple sat peacefully in the bushes. Yuri, after the wind, then went to the strawberry bushes and started to pick. They hummed as they put them in a small bucket, as Wakatoshi instructed them to, and rinsed them in a bucket his Grandfather made. After that, they handed the small fat berry to his hand, as he cut off the top part of the berry.

“The leaves are edible, but are annoying to the throat. It’s better to mush them together, since they have good properties for the body.” Wakatoshi explained. Yuri giggled in response, continuing to pick a few more, with a here and there bite to the smallest one.

Yuri might even turn around, and coo, “Look at this, ‘Toshi-Chan! Aw, it’s no bigger than my thumb!” At which Wakatoshi leaned over, uncomfortably on the small blanket his Mother gave him, before nodding. “Do you want to name it? Like a child?”

“Oh great idea! How about, hmm, Plate!”

“Hm?”

“Because strawberries, and plate berries!”

“Ah.” Wakatoshi nodded, and he gave them a small side of the mushed leaves. “This should be enough for both of us. Do you think so?”

“Mhm! Oh, how are the twins?”

Wakatoshi leaned back and took a deep breath. Kazane cried so much he had to wake up Grandmother Nijiko for it. She complained loudly, but went over and in a few hours the silence was gone. Mayumi singlehandedly ate the rest of the prepared milk bottles his Mother made. Wakatoshi lost approximately 3.26 hours of sleep. “They are well.” He said.

“Oh! They’re the cutest!! With their little soft lettuce cheeks-! I can’t wait until I can feed them little berries!” Yuri popped one in their mouth.

“Mayumi-tan loves blueberries. Especially playing with them. Kazane-tan prefers spitting the strawberry seeds in my hair.”

“No wonder you take so many showers, Wakatoshi-Chan!” He ate a bit of the mush, and he looked above at the clouds. Yuri laid next to him, and dipped their finger in the mush.

“Satori-kun told me- you- uh, you got mad. I was wondering where you were after the game.”

“We had to celebrate. Besides that, I could not charge my phone. The TV crew took up all the outlets.”

“Aw, bummer! But still, Wakatoshi-Chan~,” Yuri poked his side. He twitched in response. “You got mad. It was a close game.”

Wakatoshi ate another strawberry dipped in mush. “I won. Do not worry. I am okay.” Yuri laid on their stomach and pouted. “Promise?”

“I would never lie to you, Yuri-Chan.”

“Good. Then critique me on my violin, okay!”

He nodded, as Yuri brought out their violin case. Being best friends with Satori, all sorts of little stickers were on it, especially a large Pokémon one. Wakatoshi crossed his legs as Yuri took their violin out, and their bow. They hummed quietly, tuning the violin and hastily rubbing rosin on the bow. They used the bow on the violin, once- twice -the first made Wakatoshi fear the twins would wake up from their nap- before Yuri played.

The Swan.

Wakatoshi laid back. Yuri closed their eyes, leaning into their instrument, and played. The wind picked up again. And Wakatoshi closed his eyes.

Yuri and he met in freshman year. Wakatoshi saw Yuri come in, shy.

“I am so sorry! I thought this was the auditorium.” Wakatoshi had just worked out. He assumed in their vision, this would be attractive and more romantic. To him he felt more comfortable and relaxed.

“It’s a few more blocks down. But I believe the Coach will not allow music.” Seeing Yuri’s jolt of embarrassment, Wakatoshi added, “But I believe outside is a perfect place to play. I would help you, but I know the plants shall tell you what to do.”

And here, as the wind guided Yuri’s fingers, their bow, the soft and intimate touches to the strings, did Wakatoshi hear how his advice had really counted. From Day 1 to Day Now, their improvement let him smile quietly in pride. They were perfect.

After a few days of waiting for a response from Wakatoshi’s father, it was settled and official. He would join them that night for dinner.

Yuri held onto Wakatoshi’s arm, their middle finger writing characters he could not decipher. He looked around at Grandmother Nijiko holding the twins. Kazane was in a little blue robe and Mayumi in red. His mother opened the door to the wardrobe for Wakatoshi. He wore a tight white shirt, and black sleek pants. He observed a royal purple kimono.

Yuri gulped as they watched his mother gently pinch his ear, “Nuh uh, do the Atlantic Blue.”

“I believe it is Pacific Blue.” Wakatoshi responded as he took that instead, and dawned it. He helped Yuri with their kimono.

“Wow, your family is like, really traditional, Wakatoshi,” they said quietly, looking at Wakatoshi.

“It’s my father’s arrival. Oka-san likes it like this.” He paused, before he continued to help them put it on, “and Oba-san, of course.”

Wakatoshi could not admit it, but he did appreciate it too. The clan was well, they just valued the importance of continuing to be perfect. It was only in their strict rules he did not want his new siblings to be subjected to. Wakatoshi glanced at his left hand. as he tied Yuri’s pink clothes together.

“‘Toshi, remember to smile.” Ms. Ushijima reminded him.

Wakatoshi grimaced. “Yes Oka-san.”

Yuri squeezed his hand, and looked up at him. He gently smiled back.

“Yuri-kun, make sure Wakatoshi doesn’t go on about volleyball again!” Grandmother Nijiko said. His smile faded.

His mother went from the twins, to going to him and attacking his stance.

Ms. Ushijima went on her tippy toes, muttering and complaining about his height, then how his hair was so dry, how he needed to use lotion more, and how filthy he was.

Yuri only stared at their feet. The Ushijimas stared at Wakatoshi, having his mother flick his ear and pinch at his stomach. “Stop eating so much rice! Obviously this sport isn’t putting off enough weight, eh?”

The doorbell rang. Finally, Wakatoshi took a gulp of fresh air as his mother went to the door.

It opened. Wakatoshi couldn’t stop smiling.

Everything seemed to blur and fade into each other. Wakatoshi took his coat. Yuri was taken away. The twins began to cry and whine for food. Ms. Ushijima said nothing.

The dining room in the Ushijima home was tiny. The dinner table was small, made of driftwood from Wakatoshi’s great grandfather. The clinking of dishes were mixed in with the twins crying. Yuri sat uncomfortably. Wakatoshi only ate as he looked at his father.

Mr. Utsui Takashi barely had hair- he was balding. He had a curly like stubble though, and he had developed an annoying, wheezing-like cough after inhaling any sort of food. It seemed his vision got worse, since he had thought the twins were identical. He had to take a double take to Yuri and Wakatoshi before laughing and embracing him tightly. His hands were disgusting. He smelled of fish and B.O.

But Wakatoshi put his face in his neck, and embraced him thrice as tightly once he had seen him minutes ago. Wakatoshi nearly lifted his father from the ground. Now, as Wakatoshi picked at his small serving of possibly 382 pieces of rice and steak, he watched his father talk to Yuri.

“Ah, Wakatoshi, she is so cute! Ooh~,” he pinched Yuri’s cheek who giggled and thanked him, a little awkward. Wakatoshi ate his steak, a little curve on his lips from their interaction.

“Utsui-san, I am so excited! I cannot believe you came all this way, because ‘Toshi-chan is going to nationals!” Yuri smiled.

Wakatoshi’s grandmother stopped feeding the twins and sighed. “It’s not why he came.”

The young man felt the steak he swallowed start to froth in his mouth. He forced it down, and turned to his father. “What is the news that you have?”

“I got fired from my job.” Mr. Utsui said, a little weak. “Well, they laid us off—,”

Ms. Ushijima stood up and gathered the plates. “Your father is coming back to live with us until he finds something good. Hopefully in Tokyo so he can move out again.”

“Y-yes...” Mr. Utsui slouched, but he continued to eat his rice.

Wakatoshi ate his steak, and he quietly let his mother take it as he looked at Yuri’s hand. “Will you be taking care of the twins, then?” he said.

Mr. Utsui opened his mouth, a little confused, but he only sighed, “Ah- well yes. I will. I am also discussing that matter with your mother.”

“Do you need to go to court for it?” Wakatoshi continued to sit as Yuri held onto him, adjusting their feet from the long period of sitting on them.

“No, Oba-san will handle the matters.”

Wakatoshi nodded, and quietly asked his grandmother to be excused. Once she nodded, she eyed his left hand as he helped Yuri up.

“Your lover cannot go. I need to ask them some things as well.”

“Oba-san.” Wakatoshi bowed his head, “they need to stretch out their feet.”

“I don’t care. Sit by me, Yuri-tan.” Yuri looked back, and shooed Wakatoshi off. He bowed, only slightly, before sliding open the doors, and going outside.

The Ushijima Land stretched for only a couple of square acres. Wakatoshi sat down awkwardly by the lake.

It was technically a marsh but his mother never liked him calling it that. He fondly remembered how he invited his team here to train. Goshiki nearly passed out in the fields further West, if Grandmother Nijiko had not taken care of him. Wakatoshi smiled remembering how she pinched his cheeks and cooed, “Goshiki-Bo.”

“Wakatoshi.” He turned, slightly, and Mr. Utsui sat down next to him with a bit of difficulty. “Ah, what a nice night, hm?” he tried to hide his cough.

“Yes.” the young man said.

Mr. Utsui sighed, tapping his fingers and looking off at the side, towards the stars. “H-How is Shiratorizawa?”

“We won against Karasuno a few days ago. My team and I are going to nationals.”

Mr. Utsui smiled. “Ah, perfect, perfect, good for you. I’m happy that it makes you happy.” Wakatoshi looked down. He did not feel anything. The dream that had woken him up this morning has scared him. He had no idea why. “You trained hard for this, hm?”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad my son has come all this way. You’ve gotten so big and strong! Tell me, do the twins bother you? I hope the farm work isn't too much either. But you’re 18 now, and-,”

Wakatoshi stood up. He took a deep breath. He simply took off his kimono.

Mr. Utsui blinked. “‘Toshi?”

“I’m going for a run.” The boy ran without a word to his father. He was glad Mr. Utsui didn’t follow. Because Wakatoshi began to cry.

After a good ten minute run, Wakatoshi took yet another shower once he got back. He now wore his pajamas. A big shirt he had been gifted once from Mr. Utsui, and Pokemon themed pants he got from Satori a year ago.

Wakatoshi went to the entrance of his home, holding Yuri’s hands. It was time to say goodbye to Yuri-Chan. “Your Grandma is so weird.” they giggled, trying to hush their voice. That made no sense to him, really. Grandmother Nijiko heard everything.

“She is my blood. I got it from her.” Yuri giggled and kissed him softly, and he did in return. “You’re so weird~,”

“Yes.” He wanted to go inside already. He needed to think of what the matter was with his father. But he needed to also stall for Yuri to feel safe.

“Heh, okay, tomorrow is my practice.” They pulled him close and cooed, “I’ll see you?”

“Of course.” He stared at their features. He remembered hearing a few opposing volleyball players try to bully Yuri. He made sure they lost within two sets. For Yuri was like a flower to Wakatoshi- they had a timeless beauty. He loved staring at the shape of their eyes, how their nose scrunched ever so slightly when they smiled, and especially, when their irises dilated. He never felt such an intense feeling pull himself toward her.

They hugged him tightly. “Love you, ‘Toshi-Chan.”

“I love you too.”

After another kiss, Yuri-Chan’s aunt pulled up in her car. With another wave, Yuri had disappeared from his grasp. Wakatoshi was all alone.

☆彡

The Last Set. Wakatoshi took his stance as one of the outer blockers. He watched the ball be served by the Karasuno Crows. The Samurai Crow, Asahi, paused before spiking, causing Wakatoshi to miss his timing on the block. On the next turn, when Kenjiro sets, Wakatoshi returns his point as he spikes against the block. In games, he lets Satori do the blocking, since he is better. Wakatoshi is smart, he has no doubt about that in this sport, but he knows his teammate’s instinctual guess is better than anything. When Satori went left, Wakatoshi followed and blocked it correctly. He quietly nodded as Satori beamed with pride.

After another few more scores, Wakatoshi blinked at the sudden point Karasuno took. His eyebrows were raised as he drank his water. He was surprised by the new attack Karasuno made. Never in his years of volleyball research, of play, did he believe it could work against his strong team, or actually score. They were extremely fearless.

Wakatoshi frowned at himself when Reon missed. But now he can make a point to honor him, and also win back the lead. As he spiked, he spotted the little short Libero, the Lightning Bolt Crow Yu. He frowned, and he spiked quickly to his left. It was quick, causing a jolt of pain to his shoulder, but it did the trick for them to get a point.

Despite that, the Blond Crow, Kei, tried to go against him. Which made him annoyed. This tiny blocker, tried to go against his immeasurable strength? Wakatoshi huffed quietly.

Wakatoshi hated how Kei knew how to one touch, how to time his spikes perfectly. But he didn’t even have the strength like Satori did. He was just a wannabe Satori. And no one is like Satori. And such thoughts, that the young man had, made his strength greater with the stress of the Blond Crow. Kei made a grave mistake. Pissing off the Miracle Boy.

With the next point to be made, and with his new power up that Kei unknowingly gave Wakatoshi, the Miracle Boy then, out of pure anger, made sure he could not play. Using his entire body weight, he made sure that Kei was out. Against Kei’s perfect block, Wakatoshi had spiked so hard to Kei’s right fingers, he heard the crack.

As Wakatoshi landed, he turned away. He had scored. And Kei would be gone.

After Karasuno’s kerfuffle of Kei’s condition, now Wakatoshi could serve. Now that the Blond Crow was gone, just a few more points were made by him and Wakatoshi could see Father.

“Bring it!” Karasuno yelled.

Bring it? Wakatoshi thought. How amusing. He will. He threw the ball up, jumped, and struck it hard. The Samurai Crow hit it in the air, his skin turning red from impact. Typical. Karasuno was playing yet another synchronized attack. But Wakatoshi saw how Satori eyed Sugawara’s shoes, and jumped immediately. The Captain relaxed at seeing Satori’s correct guess, and watched. He watched Satori glare down at the boy, a blush blooming on his pale cheeks. Wakatoshi could not help but smirk to himself as well.

The Eagles were soaring far above the Crows.

The Last Set. Wakatoshi, being a not loud person, clapped for Satori as the rest of his team screamed. Satori’s blocks were always one to be celebrated. His skills were amazing, and were an important asset to the team.

After switching sides, Wakatoshi served. But he can feel himself getting tired, as he jumped he got a blurry vision and hit the ball to the net. He makes a genuine apology, deciding to let his team do some more of the heavy lifting. After all, the Blond Crow was gone.

But seeing the Chibi-Chan, Shoyo Hinata, Wakatoshi stood taller. He scowled at the boy. Kenjiro sensed his anger, and set the ball to the Ace. Now he spiked it down. But no. As if the boy was blessed only with his speed, he saw, in awe, how the boy caught the damn ball with his face. Satori missed his spike, the two comrades tched at the boy. Wakatoshi could feel his and Satori’s hatred at the boy’s talentless smile. Even more so, what made Wakatoshi steam further was that Shoyo still scored points. Not only was he reckless, he always just went for his head. It made the Ace sick to his stomach. Ungrateful runt.

Wakatoshi had not doubted he wouldn’t win, but now he wanted to crush the small boy. He wanted to win just as bad as he did.

After the next loss, due to Satori’s overthinking, Wakatoshi tried not to chuckle at seeing Satori get yelled at by the Coach. Despite the hilarity, now the Captain had to make up for Satori’s lost concentration. Right now he couldn’t depend on him. Right now he needs to win. Even if Satori can’t pick up his slack.

The first years’ reckless quick attack. Wakatoshi hated it. Speed was all he had. Nothing like the great rival Wakatoshi had expected him to be; no, just Stupid, Small, Sly Shoyo.

Wakatoshi can hear Yuri-Chan cheer loudly from the bleachers with his school. He heard his school cheer proudly after Eita’s no touch serve, only to find Karasuno's ridiculous cheering. Now he turned around, to his team, and he furrowed his brows. He looked upon their glistening faces. “We Shall Finish This.” Now all of Shiratorizawa sang aloud. Perfect. A traditional song. A traditional strength of his. He will beat all of Karasuno, if he has to, to the ground.

Wakatoshi watched as Shoyo reflected his spike, and made what should’ve been his point, theirs. He never wanted anything more than to crush Shoyo as he did to Kei. He clenched his fists and turned away.

Goshiki talked. Gushed about the Shrimp. “Can you believe it, Wakatoshi? It’s like his speed can power through your strength!” The Ace said nothing in response.

Stupid Shoyo....he shouldn’t have done that at all.

Goshiki was trying to prove himself, to help Wakatoshi’s previous loss- Wakatoshi felt like he was trying to watch paint dry.

In retaliation, Wakatoshi hit hard against the New Crow despite the Samurai Crow’s time block that he copied from the Blond Crow. But now he felt his arm throb. Store. He would need to wait until he can use all of his strength to beat them. To finish this. But first, Wakatoshi needed to calm himself down.

He needed a replacement.

Wakatoshi turned to the smaller, youngest member. He put his hand on his shoulder, and made strong eye contact. “Goshiki. Do not panic, you have much talent. Let us finish this.”

Wakatoshi moved out of the way, and he caught his breath. Goshiki made a great point. As he planned. As he should. So he can finish beautifully. It was often like the paintings his Uncle Hideaki would make, little colors mixing in, adding up to the pine forests next to the Ushijima Acres. What Goshiki did was pure art. With a serve to get them back in the lead. With Goshiki’s now flared ego, Wakatoshi knew he could lead this. He had successfully stored up enough energy, and calmed himself down-

A tie.

He noticed Coach staring at him. As Captain, as Ace, as a Volleyball Player. He needed to win for him as well. He lowered his stance. Kenjiro made the set to, The Traditional Wakatoshi, The Traditional Strength, The God, spiked hard to the Libero Crow. The ball flew past.

One More Point. Wakatoshi heard. One More Point. Because they are stronger.

But who came running back? Just as they were winning, for one more point. The Blond Crow had flown back to the game.

The Last Set. 15 Shiratorizawa. 14 Karasuno.

Wakatoshi wanted to crush his dreams, and now his other fingers. Yunohama came in, but Satori read failed on a part of the play against Tobio. Wakatoshi wanted to say something to the Blond Crow. But he realized he did not despise him like Shoyo. Only found him as an obstacle to crush.

Wakatoshi reminded Kenjiro. “Use me mercilessly.” He had enough stamina. He needed to be ready to beat the dreams of these foolish crows. As Reon made the ball go up, Wakatoshi struck Kenjiro’s fake set, right at Kei. He stared him down during their fall. He felt himself puff out his chest. He talked with his glowing eyes, as if saying, I can beat you.

Wakatoshi needed to serve again, but at the stupid Libero. He felt his thighs shake as he readied himself. He leaped up high, and hit the net to fool them.

But it didn’t work.

Satori couldn’t block the return attack. And now Karasuno was in the lead. Despite how hard Wakatoshi used his strength to get through the Blond Crow. During Coach’s timeout, Wakatoshi squeezed the pouches the twins had packed for him. Every game. Every practice. The twins packed him a little juice pouch.

He relaxed. His legs really needed to sit. A lot. Despite how tired he was from that run, he caught his breath. Kenjiro asked if he can still be used. He saw his teammate’s red, exhausted faces. This game was worrying them. Karasuno was in the lead.

Wakatoshi agreed with a warm smile. Because now he can win, with real, strong teamwork. Everyone depended on him. “Use me.”

On the court, the Libero saved it from the Samurai crow’s attack. Meaning he can serve, and he- It didn’t count. He tried to push it far. But his shoulder ached. Stupid Shoyo. Too late. He was too quick. Wakatoshi felt his muscles ache, like quiet screams.

This time, he spiked inside. Stupid Shoyo.

Wakatoshi was breathing heavily. But, he looked up, and grunted out of happiness. Stupid Shoyo!! He thought to himself.

Reon served. But, Shoyo made the next point.

Stupid Shoyo.

Wakatoshi smiled though, when Shoyo tried to quick attack, and Satori blocked it. But he didn’t grimace out of disappointment. He only kept thinking.

Stupid Shoyo.

Wakatoshi watched the ball on the next attack. He watched Hinata not jump. His legs froze. Stupid Shoyo. He congratulated Goshiki on the new point, with a nod as he went to the net.

He watched the ball slowly fall as a new play began. Another point-

The Libero. Wakatoshi felt the ball slip through his block. He hated the feeling as he grimaced at the passing and quick sting to his pinky. Wakatoshi stood and watched the Blond Crow figure out their attacks, he couldn’t help but now feel the same sense of annoyance as with Shoyo. He needed to truly show them who was going to win.

The Last Set. Hinata served. They do a minus tempo back attack. Shoyo spiked at Taichi. When he failed, Wakatoshi picked it up and yelled at his server. It’s time. Merciless Attack.

He wanted to hit. He wanted to hit Stupid Shoyo’s face so hard. Kenjiro noted Wakatoshi’s burning fury. Goshiki whimpered under his breath as he ran. But Wakatoshi flew up, and he spiked it to three blockers. But he spiked it right at their setter.

No point. The ball went up.

His nose flared, and he grunted underneath his breath.

Those crows.

Those.

Those damn crows.

THOSE BASTARD CROWS DARED DEFY HIM. HE HAD NEVER FELT SUCH HEAT IN HIS BODY; AS IF LAVA HAD BEEN SPURTING OUT OF HIM IN RAGE. SUCH ANGER INSIDE HIM AS HE SAW THE KARASUNO CROWS WEAKLY FIGHT; SUCH ANGER INSIDE HIM AS HE SAW THE KARASUNO WEAKLY TRY AND CONTINUE TO FIGHT AGAINST HIS STRENGTH. HE WAS PINNING THEM DOWN.

THE BALD CROW PICKED IT UP. CHANCE BALL.

WAKATOSHI COULDN’T STOP. HE NEEDED TO FIGHT.

STUPID SHOYO NEEDED TO LOSE!

This time, Shoyo flew up in the all out quick attack. Wakatoshi saw the ball. Where it went. Down. On his side. He felt his throat being choked, by someone.

Beneath him.

Wakatoshi saw it. He shook Shoyo’s hand and walked away. His face was grim. He saw Coach;s face staring at Shoyo. He noted how Satori was painted, with a tear falling down his face. How Goshiki sobbed. Reon staring at his hand. The Libero panting, his face a bright red.

Wakatoshi heard it. A flat thanks. No one spoke. Except the single mutter, “I thought we couldn’t lose.”

Wakatoshi smelled the salt, he saw the youngest shake and cry, hugging his broad body. A single, disappointed turn from the Coach. A flat, “hit 100 serves when we get back.”

“Wakatoshi, didn’t you get mad?” Satori asked.

Wakatoshi felt his body relax. His inner thigh was being stretched out. He paused. “I wanted to say I am stronger than them. Isn’t that childish? I wanted to say it.”

“Childish reasons are what drives us. What a great game.” A pause. “I’m quitting volleyball. I’m going to watch you on TV and brag about how we were best friends.” Satori giggled. “It’ll be fun to be interviewed about you when you get big and famous!”

21 Karasuno. 19 Shiratorizawa.

He turned away to the bright smiles of the first year duo. The Great Eagles had lost their feathers.

Wakatoshi woke up with a gasp as he held his throat. He panted, beads of sweat dripping down his bare chest. He groaned quietly, and he held his head.

It was a dream. A Dream.

Stupid Shoyo...he had invaded his dreams. And Wakatoshi looked at his left hand. He held the trophy.

He had held the trophy. Not the Karasuno Crows. He did. He touched it. And no one else could ever take that feeling away from him.

Wakatoshi turned on the bath again in his personal restroom, and got in. He sat in complete silence, and he filled the bucket with water. He dumped it upon himself. It was cold. He let his body shiver. He let himself sink as he weakly washed himself.

He heard his dad snore a few rooms down. But the worst thing that Wakatoshi did that night was cry.

☆彡

Wakatoshi knocked on the door to Coach Washijo’s room. “Wakatoshi-kun, come in.”

The boy walked inside, and blinked softly. He wore his school uniform, freshly ironed. “Coach Washijo. May I sit down?”

“Of course.” Wakatoshi pulled out the chair, and sat, he looked at his feet. Coach Washijo sighed, and he looked to the windows. “You know it, hm?”

Wakatoshi nodded. “We do not deserve this trophy.”

“I am already surprised you finished your punishment. I am extremely disappointed by the fact you brought the Chibi-Chan on our school grounds before. And for the game itself, Captain.”

Wakatoshi moved the chairs aside and he got on his knees, bowing his head. “I do not deserve the title as Captain.”

“Neither does anyone else on the team, son. But, I was the one who called you in here,” Coach Washijo went to him, and tapped his back. Wakatoshi slowly got up, and looked down. “I am proud. Don’t tell the others this, Wakatoshi-kun. That was a close game. I need you to practice with everyone. Get everyone ready for the Nationals. You deserve it.”

Wakatoshi bowed. “Thank you, Coach.”

As he left, his mind became fogged. How, how could he have even let himself be seen like that? Coach knew. Coach and he are the only ones, only ones who know the Karasunos were so, so so close to becoming the winners.

So.

Close.

Wakatoshi turned to the restroom quickly, and he began to breathe heavily. He loosened his tie as he stared into the sink. That close. Two points away from his dreams, his father, everything he had known into the sink, washed away because of Shoyo.

“STUPID SHOYO!”

With the force of thunder, he punched the mirror. He panted, and looked at his reflection. The mirror didn’t shatter. The boy sighed as he turned on the sink, and washed his face. He rinsed it, as the water turned hot. Hot. Hot. Hot-

He held onto the sink, gasping for air. He remembered it. He remembered his mother scrubbing him fiercely with a wood scrubber. “Wakatoshi you need to start scrubbing!” She picked at his hair. “You need to start getting off those dead skin cells!” She ripped off anything that came off him. “Or else no one will like you! You wanna end up like your Dad? I married him out of pity! He was supposed to give me money!”

Wakatoshi held onto the sink, panting again as he washed his face. No. No he did not want to be like his father. Injured. No, that's why he ate well. He treated his body well. Run no less than five laps around the acres. Avoid the tree stump to the right. He could never, ever end up like his dad.

He threw his head up and panted as he stared at himself. His skin was pink. He felt nothing on his skin. He only sighed. He grabbed the paper towels and wiped his face. He started to cry.

He was so close to ending up like his Dad. Like Tooru. No. He is strong. He got to Nationals.

He’s living his true, and only dream.

Then why is The Miracle Boy panicking?

☆彡

The lunch room was bustled, filled with happy and chattering students from the game that happened a week ago. The chefs served sushi today. Yuri was away in the auditorium for practice.

Wakatoshi ate with his team. Satori smiled. “Wow! Did Yuri give you good luck concerts for their concert, Wakatoshi-kun?”

“No.” he responded, eating a salmon roll after.

Eita sighed, “Well, I hear they’re playing with that new transfer, Choboyo-kun.”

Wakatoshi looked up, and scowled. “Oh.”

“Ooh, Eita-kun you’re going to get Wakatoshi-kun so angry!!” Satori laughed.

Wakatoshi continued to eat, and he frowned as he looked down. It was one of his worst flaws. Jealousy. Shoyo. Tooru. Despite how they collapsed, how they looked up in anger, he knew they still probably had nice days. Tooru probably was nice with his nephew. Shoyo had hugged his best friends. Wakatoshi had his teammates and the twins. Yuri and he had been dating for a year, four months, and 27 days. The thought of Yuri being with another boy, of course it was rational he would get upset.

Besides, Yuri never told him of anything remotely close to the concert for that night. He continued to eat. He would tell them later.

☆彡

Wakatoshi slammed the ball against the ball in a beat. One two, one two three. He remembered the beat from a lullaby his Uncle Ushijima Hideaki sang to him. He threw the ball up, and ran, staring at the ball. He wanted nothing more, like Left Handing Hideaki, than to show his strength. He hit the other side of the net.

Satori, Goshiki, and Kenjiro were across Wakatoshi. Taichi and Eita were with Wakatoshi. He watched as Satori took the first hit, giving Kenjiro time to serve to Goshiki. Wakatoshi moved with Taichi to go for a block. Wakatoshi jumped early, but blocked Goshiki’s spike.

“One touch!” Taichi yelled. He jumped down, as Wakatoshi quickly caught the ball and moved it up. Eita made a pretty decent set. Wakatoshi did not want to upset him by saying it was much too far from the net, but he jumped.

Satori jumped perfectly. A great timing block.

Wakatoshi froze. He saw Satori’s crazy blood red eyes flash into the Blond Crow. Wakatoshi smacked down the ball.

“FUCK!”

The game stopped, and everyone went to Satori’s hand. He winced quietly, and he flexed his middle finger. His comrades gasped out of grotesque. “Wakatoshi-kun! Shit-, you do scare me!”

“Sorry.” Wakatoshi panted. He was sweaty. He was sticky and sweaty. He wanted to shower.

“Is everything—?” Coach Saito started.

“Let’s put Hayato in while we practice.” Wakatoshi grabbed the ball, walking over. “We need to make sure we win the next game.”

“Captain, we did win.” Goshiki gently took Satori close, wrapping his fingers with a tape.

Wakatoshi scowled. He didn’t want to admit to his comrades they barely won. Stupid Shoyo almost took away their name of the Great Eagles. But he turned away. “One more game, then Eita and I shall take Satori to Nurse Yui.”

Everyone gave a hesitant agreement. Wakatoshi sighed, he banged the ball against the wooden ground. He looked across the net.

Six players in black and orange uniforms. Goshiki’s hair had faded to the Captain Crow. The foolish Lightning Libero Crow. Kenjiro looked so much like Tobio.

Wakatoshi twitched. He threw the ball up. Not again. Not again. He leaped into the air, and he felt- no he saw Goshiki move. Shoyo. He spiked hard, past Hayato, past Goshiki’s defense, so hard the ball had flown to the ceiling, and had gotten stuck in a beam.

Wakatoshi panted, his muscles spasming, and he looked at Goshiki with anger. He showed him. He showed him he is the strongest. He showed him no matter how hard he would train like Tooru he would not—

Satori gripped his arm. Wakatoshi stopped breathing. His best friend frowned. “Wakatoshi. You won.”

☆彡

Yuri smiled and they held Wakatoshi’s hand. They had been wandering the neighborhood for awhile, and now Yuri was just beginning to look at the music stores and babbling about their new deep desire for something about a gem. They said it would make the music sound crystal clear.

“Is it not clear already?” The boy asked.

“Silly! No!! It needs to be perfect for the concert!”

The concert. Wakatoshi followed them around, and after the eighth story about how they loved little stuffed animals, he asked, “Who is Choboyo?”

“And- huh? Oh! Choboyo-Senpai! He’s in university, so he offered to play with me! He’s a little bit much though...”

Wakatoshi went closer as Yuri continued in telling their story. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Yuri looked over and sighed. “Because look at you! Wakatoshi-Chan, you’re slouching. Don’t worry, he’s only in the background of my performance for tomorrow. Now come on! Chin up~! I need to pick out a good outfit for tomorrow! I wanted you to help!”

Wakatoshi was too tired to disagree, despite him having promised his mother to babysit the twins. That morning. He knew Grandmother Nijiko would tell Ms. Ushijima, and he knew he would be subjected to the marsh cleaning, but, seeing Yuri’s smile as they picked out a strawberry shirt for their suit, was enough for him to think;

“Who cares?”

Wakatoshi was benched. Coach Saito had explained to Wakatoshi that he had to maintain his speed before he could be put back on the court. Which was perfect. During lunch, privately, he practiced. It was better for him then.

No more Karasuno Crows.

But tonight, the concert hall had changed. However, Wakatoshi's face was non wipeable of his scowl. He wore a hand me down of Mr. Utsui’s suit. It smelled horrible. It was stiff.

“Ah~, Yuri-kun!” Choboyo was indeed a young man, with a stubble, messy and sleek white hair, his eyes a never-ending black.

Wakatoshi scowled as he watched Yuri hug him. Yuri wore a lovely green suit, their hair pulled back.

They were so beautiful.

“Choboyo! This is my boyfriend, Ushijima Wakatoshi. He’s a volleyball player- He’s going to the National Championship!”

The young men stared at each other. Wakatoshi nodded. “Good luck.”

“We say break a leg, actually.” He only despised him even more, now. “Come on, Yuri,” Wakatoshi eyed his hand. His right hand lingered on Yuri’s waist, on their shoulders, and on their hands.

Wakatoshi sighed to himself.

Yuri turned. “Is something wrong?” Choboyo also looked, raising a white eyebrow of his. Wakatoshi gripped his fists and he scowled at Choboyo.

“You like Yuri-Chan. My partner.”

“Wakatoshi—!”

“I won’t lie.” Choboyo took his hands off Yuri, “They’re very attractive.”

Wakatoshi widened his eyes. He didn’t expect the man to just admit it. It was almost like he was trying to be a pervert.

“E-excuse us,” Yuri put a hand to Choboyo’s chest. “I-I’ll be right there.” Yuri sighed as Choboyo smirked to himself, kissed their hand, and walked away.

Wakatoshi stepped closer. “Do you not see this? He’s a pervert.”

“It’s one performance,” Yuri said, rubbing their arm. “Don’t you realize this is why I’ve been asking you to be with me? W-why I’ve been playing more around you, and not practicing here? I know.”

He blinked. He wanted to say something. Anything. He gulped. He blinked. “Yuri-Chan. I do not think you should play with him.”

Yuri looked up with teary eyes. “If you’re not going to be here to support me right now, I-I want you to leave. I can’t do this right now, ‘Toshi. I want to take a break.”

He gulped. “Yuri, perhaps you should think straight. D-don’t—.”

“I’ll see you around.” They turned around, and just like that, Wakatoshi again, was alone.

☆彡

Wakatoshi locked the door behind him. He sat on his bed. It creaked. Across the hall, he heard the twins.

The twins.

He got up as fast as he could, and he went to their room. Everything in the room was painted pink, and had little birds that twittered happily with the characters of bird songs next to their beaks. The room was split into Mayumi’s play space, and then Kazane’s.

Wakatoshi squatted down.

The twins were on the floor, Mayumi’s foot was in her mouth. Kazane was trying to climb back in her crib. Her left hand was on the crib. Wakatoshi picked up Kazane, and started to hum.

Before he had heard his mother and father fight, he actually wanted to sing. He remembered seeing his father’s sisters all perform and sing. It made him stare in awe. The twirling of their batons, of their voices, their silks. Wakatoshi adored it. He once thought of himself there, dancing.

It was Grandfather Ushijima Touma who frowned at catching him. “Nijiko.” he had stated firmly. “He is pretending to be a daughter.” Wakatoshi had never felt such pain as he did that evening.

But being an artist was worse. That was when they discovered he had a tendency to write with his left hand. Just like the exiled Uncle Hideaki. He was supposedly in Germany.

“You had let him draw?!” cried Ms. Ushijima. Her parents stood next to her. She gripped his hand. “Does this look right to you? Huh, Takashi?!”

It was only his father. Little, nothing for brains, Mr. Utsui, who stood in front of his son. “He’s just a boy! He’ll use it for-for something great! You just wait!”

Wakatoshi picked up Mayumi as well, and began to hum. He began to quietly sing the lullaby. An old song. It was about change. About the discovery of an island. About how the tide changed with each roll onto the warm sand. Yes, everything to the nude eye was the same, but change happened. With tradition, came slow, but sure, change.

He lifted his baby sisters above him. He teared up. “This forbidden, new world, on a summer day we meet.” Mayumi was the only one awake now. He hummed as he knelt beside her. “On a summer day, we will meet again, Imoto-san.”

“Wakatoshi?” The boy turned, with teary eyes as Mayumi drifted into sleep. Mr. Utsui stood there, his mouth slack open. He closed it. “I didn’t know you sang.”

“Me either.” Wakatoshi stood up.

Mr. Utsui looked away, “Ah- well, Wakatoshi, why don’t we go outside?” He nodded and stood, awkwardly following him outside.

The sun was setting to the west of the Ushijima Acres. Wakatoshi sat on an old swing. Mr. Utsui sat next to him. Wakatoshi made sure not to look at his father; for he smelled horribly.

“Son, I- well, I have some news about you and your sisters.” Wakatoshi looked at him. Mr. Utsui had gained many splotches of white on his face, and wrinkles.

“Yes?”

“I got a job out of Miyagi Prefecture. I’m taking the twins with me. You will continue to live with your mother.”

Wakatoshi paused. He looked out at the sunset. “No.”

Mr. Utsui wheezed out of his age, “I beg your pardon?”

“You have not been here for the divorce. You were not there for Oka-san when she gave birth. You were not there to take care of the girls. You were not even here for me.” Wakatoshi looked at the sun, and it disappeared.

“You do not deserve the twins.”

The boy got up, before he stopped. His shirt was caught on something. He tugged. To no avail. He tugged and he- Wakatoshi had stumbled, back, he was trying to regain himself.

But everything flashed.

Yuri.

Kazane.

Mayumi.

Mr. Utsui.

Ms. Ushijima.

Grandmother Nijiko

Grandfather Touma.

Kei.

Shoyo.

Himself.

Wakatoshi had fallen into the marsh, and he had passed out into the water.

☆彡

Wakatoshi awoke, to Kazane biting his finger. He gasped, and he groaned. He began to gently flex his body, and groan again. “O-oka-san-?”

“Hold still.” Ms. Ushijima scrubbed his body. “You nearly drowned in the lake. Ugh, look at the water! Oka-san!” she cried. She wore a bra- she never wore such things. Sweatpants?

Were Satori’s theories true? Did alternate universes exist?

“Oka-san- agh- I-I cannot-,”

Ms. Ushijima smacked his face. Satori was wrong, alternate universes did not exist. “Still, I said! You banged up your knee pretty badly.”

Wakatoshi sat up, practically leapt up, but he moaned loudly in pain. “N-No, no. No- O-oka-san- please- I can’t-!”

“Shut up, you’ll heal if you sit still!”

Wakatoshi looked up, and started to cry. “I-I won’t win. Oka-san,” he hugged her, he cried in her neck. “I-I won't a-able to play! I’ll fail at nationals! Tell me!!” He held her tightly as he looked at her.

Ms. Ushijima stared down at her son.

Wakatoshi had clear snot on his upper lip. His tears were salty, and stained his cheeks as they dripped down into the tub. He was only in his bare underwear. The water was marshy. He had a rose colored bruise blossom on his knee.

Ms. Ushijima took his chin. “Listen to me, Wakatoshi. If you sit absolutely still, I’ll see what I can do. Just,” she heard the baby whimper.

“O-oni. . .” one of the twins started to cry.

Wakatoshi sniffled, and he looked at Kazane. Ms. Ushijima gave the baby to him. “Kazane-kun, go comfort your Oni-tan.”

“Oni~!” Kazane wrapped her chubby arms around him, then Mayumi as Ms. Ushijima placed her on him. Mayumi, adorably, finished her sister’s sentence, “tan!”

Wakatoshi smiled, and he softly cried, as Ms. Ushijima lifted up his right leg. “It’s alright, Wakatoshi-tan, I’m here.” She held it with care, and repeated, quietly as she wet some rags, “I’m here.”

☆彡

It was the night of the concert. Wakatoshi wore his school outfit, despite it being the weekend. He told his parents it’s on school grounds. They did not argue.

Goshiki found out about his injury. He had gotten the word out. Wakatoshi had been numb the entire night. He went to bed the night before, sleeping with his sisters in their room. He had awoken to their stuffed animals on his face.

Mr. Utsui chuckled about how their first word was for their elder brother. Grandmother Nijiko spoke nothing as she ate breakfast with him.

Satori sat next to Wakatoshi, wearing a hoodie, and he smiled. “Yuri-kun looks awfully pretty today, huh Wakatoshi-kun~?”

Wakatoshi said nothing. He only looked down. Strangely, he did not want to get up this morning. He did not want to do anything. He felt as if he should retire from life.

The Miracle Boy was supposed to be strong.

Never to get hurt.

And yet, here he was. Pathetically existing next to his family. He did not even mention to them that Yuri did not love him anymore. He did not tell anyone, either, of his sisters moving away from him.

They sat on his lap though, pacifiers in their mouths.

“Wakatoshi-kun, your sisters are so so so cute!” Satori laughed as he picked up Mayumi. She began to whine, aher pigtails bouncing as her blue eyes stared at Satori in fury. She fussed before Wakatoshi gently put her on his lap.

“She does not like to be held from under the arms. Only by her stomach, Despite her being ticklish there, she loves it.”

Satori smiled softly. “You love them a lot. Were they there for you when-?”

Wakatoshi nodded. “Yes. They were born right after. Oka-san was tired. They kept me company.” He paused. “I do not know what to do without them.”

Satori sighed softly, “I understand.”

The lights dimmed. A hush over the audience. The auditorium was huge and packed.

Yuri, and Choboyo came out. Yuri was so uncomfortable. Their eyes looked down at the ground. Choboyo grabbed the microphone. “Thank you, everyone, for our performance tonight! I gotta say- Yuri has something great planned out!”

The two turned to the middle of the stage. Yuri nodded. They held a different violin. It was not theirs.

Choboyo went to his grand piano proudly, and he looked at Yuri’s body, then at their eyes. They both looked at each other, finally, nodded and looked away. After a few seconds, Choboyo started off.

Wakatoshi hated it. He pounded a key, then followed it as if he was trying to sing a love song for Yuri.

Despite the famous classical song, it was still the one Yuri had played what seemed like eons ago. The Swan.

Here it went by the Carnival of Animals.

But Wakatoshi knew what Yuri was trying to replicate. But their music, their bow, the sound made Wakatoshi cringe.

It was not the joy, peaceful, calm song Yuri played in the land. Here, mixed in with Choboyo’s romantic noise; was their song of sorrow. They focused, as if on the music, and not on their own play.

Wakatoshi looked down. Two birds. One defeated. Another attack for more.

The song ended.

Wakatoshi clapped, his hands smacking like thunder, and Yuri looked at him, just for a moment. They went backstage, and the next duo came out. The song was the infamous Clair De Lune.

“Wakatoshi?”

He looked at his dad beside him. Mr. Utsui showered the night before due to falling in the marsh to save Wakatoshi. He had done his hair. He had also shaved.

“Your mother and I talked, we decided that I’ll live here. After my first paycheck I’ll get a good car, so I can drive in and out of the Prefecture. And, son?” Mr. Utsui moved in closer.

Wakatoshi suddenly teared up. When he was little, he remembered exactly how his father smelled when he protected him from the traditional rules that had ached his once frail bones.

Like hot sand.

Mr. Utsui, in that moment, murmured into Wakatoshi’s ear, as the song had ended, “I am so proud you got into Nationals. Keep working hard. Keep getting stronger for us.”

As Wakatoshi’s hot tears fell, he whispered, looking at his father, “T-Thank you, Oto-san.”

☆彡

Wakatoshi had bounced the ball. He stood firmly on his right leg. He breathed in deeply. He eyed his friend across from him, and Mr. Utsui who held the twins. Mayumi was on the sand, babbling and trying to eat it.

“Imoto-san, do not try to eat the sand, okay?” Wakatoshi looked across to his sister.

“Oni~!” Kazane cried with a laugh.

Wakatoshi chuckled, and he gently bounced the ball. The sand underneath his sneakers. His deep and panting breath. He looked at his friend with a soft smile.

Satori panted himself, his red hair sticking to his forehead. He only smiled widely with happiness.

Wakatoshi breathed deeply, and calmed himself.

Satori and he, underneath the midnight moon.

Wakatoshi served. Satori dived under and threw the ball up, before spiking. Wakatoshi, with great speed, blocked and Satori read him. Satori gathered himself again to throw the ball, set, then spike. Now Wakatoshi served it to himself, and he quickly set it. He now went to the left, and spiked hard right. Satori tried to follow for a moment, before he watched the ball slam beside him. Satori, however, blocked enough to make a dump. Wakatoshi nodded.

A great defense.

Satori smiled with a small breath of relief, “Wakatoshi-kun, I love playing with you, but you scare me.”

The young man smiled as he went underneath the net to get it. “I try my best to be a Strong Monster as well.”

“How scary!” Satori gasped, and Wakatoshi took the ball. He spun the ball as Mr. Utsui cheered happily.

“Go Wakatoshi-kun!”

“Are you okay? I know your dad is back.” Satori said quietly.

Wakatoshi turned around. “It’s okay. I-I’m not happy he is back.”

Satori widened his eyes. “Oh?”

Wakatoshi sat beside him against the barn. The Ushijima space was so peaceful now. Not in a flash as he usually saw it. Wakatoshi took a deep breath again. “He came to announce he lost his job. He told me he was happy and I was happy. Not that he was proud.” Wakatoshi began to practice throwing the ball up and setting, as if it was instinct. “I was thinking. I am not happy. We nearly lost, Satori.”

His friend looked up at the stars. “I wanted to quit after that game.”

Wakatoshi stopped. He looked at his friend. “But you have so much—,”

“Those memories won’t stop flowing. Once we win nationals, Wakatoshi-kun, that’s when I’ll stop. Seeing your smile hold that big, big trophy, that’s when I’ll quit. Because then you won’t need me, and I won’t need you anymore.” Satori smiled. “I love you.”

Wakatoshi opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed it. He closed his eyes, before he looked at Satori. “I love you too, Satori. Thank you for being by my side.”

They both, slowly, turned to gaze at the stars.

“So, you’ll recommend me for a movie interview, right Wakatoshi-kun?”

“Perhaps.”

☆彡

Snow drifted down. It fell against Yuri’s umbrella.

“Wait!”

Yuri stopped walking, and took out their earbuds as they turned around. They widened their eyes. “Wakatoshi-ch-? What are you- Why are you running?” Yuri started.

Wakatoshi winced, and he sighed. He hid a huge dandelion bouquet behind his back, with a small box.

“Yuri-Chan.” the young man panted, “I-I am not the strongest. I lost a lot of things in the past few days. I gained some of them back.” He showed the bouquet, and the box.

“I should have focused on you, my flower. On your music. I went to your concert. You did not practice, did you? It is alright. I do not want to jump back to our relationship if you are not ready. I believe we should go back to the beginning, Yuri-Chan. If you like, we can go back to my farm, and I can listen to you play, and play, and play until we fall asleep.”

Wakatoshi, after a moment, opened the box. There was Yuri’s dream sapphire blue rosin. One swipe, said the ad on it, and the bow is brand new.

“I will always love you. But I was not okay. Now, if you take me back, I will be. Then I will never break that promise.”

Yuri looked at his big tearful eyes. “I love you, stupid!” Yuri cried and they jumped on him, tackling him. The couple held each other, with laughter and deep chuckles as they cuddled close in the soft winter wind. In an act of warmth, Yuri hugged. In an act of love, Wakatoshi kissed.

The couple was late for their classes that morning.

☆彡

Wakatoshi rinsed his face in the sink, lightly with cold water. Goshiki stood beside him by making faces. Reon patted the youngster’s back, and laughed. Eita instructed, but also listened to Kenjiro. Satori sang to himself.

The clinking of the lights above the young man began to go into a rhythm. His eyes tilted up, and he blinked. Once. Twice. And again.

He, and his teammates, were in a full purple volleyball outfit. The Number One on his shirt was bold white. His muscles flexed gently when he looked at his short olive hair. His eyes glimmered seeing where he was. How he was there.

The young man smiled to himself.

“Great Eagles.” The young man who played volleyball said, “Let’s finish this.”

#haikyu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyu angst #shiratorizawa #Shiratorizawa angst #ushijima angst #ushijima x y/n #hq ushijima #Shiratorizawa Nationals au #ushijima wakatoshi #dee writes #ushijima fluff #anime scenarios #haikyu scenarios #happy birthday Ushijima #:)

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juminly · 4 years

Text

Nights Like These

Summary: A nice cozy movie night with timeskip! Iwaizumi Hajime. Tags: Mostly Fluff & Smut towards the end. Warning: Smut starts after the “♥♥♥” and includes fingering and cockwarming.

–♥–

Hajime knew that you loved mac and cheese. He had enough skills to be able to be able to whip up something nice and yummy for you after you've had such a long day and especially since you haven’t had an actual “date” in so long. Living on his own in the US for a few years did have its perks and this was one of them: he was a grown ass man who knew his way well enough in the kitchen to be able to cook for you. Sighing loudly, dark orbs stared for a few seconds at the smart watch strapped to his wrist then back at the pot in front of him. He was looking forward to seeing you more than anything. Being the athletic trainer of the national Japanese team was no ordinary feat and it took up a lot of his time and energy. But, that didn't mean that it would take up the time that you deserved, the time that you both needed. Being always so hyper-focused on his own work, his thoughts tended to drift off quite often to you, just thinking about the last few phone calls you had, the last few texts you sent him and the things you've done in your last few dates. He missed the way you sighed when he played with your hair... God, he loved playing with your hair, twirling your curls in his fingers. It wasn't even the agreed time for your date but he was anxious to see you. He wouldn't admit it to you though, not even to himself. The loud and strong thrumming of his heart in his chest was a big reminder of how much he loved you. He was smitten. No, ever worse! or better? He couldn't even think straight anymore, he was whipped for you and... Ring! Ring! Ring! Three rings. That's your own way of letting him know that it was you and he just absolutely loved it when you did that. If it were anyone else at the door, he wouldn't have been rushing towards it the way he had and flung it open just to see your face.

"Princess." The corner of his lips just curled up out of their own volition, didn't even ask for permission but they didn't even have to. You were here and he wouldn't have it any other way. Why was he acting and feeling like such a schoolboy? He didn't even care. What he cared about was why you were still not throwing your arms around him. "Come here, you." Leaning forward, he took your hand in his and pulled you in for a hug, squeezing his arms tightly around your waist, supporting your weight as you literally balanced yourself on the tip of your toes to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him back. He nuzzled your neck only for a brief moment, leaving a gentle kiss there and before you murmured in a wondering tone. "Cheesy?" He couldn't help but stiffen for a brief moment. Did you figure out what he had prepared for you? Or even worse, Hajime would be completely mortified if you thought he was cheesy or corny at any point and you didn't like it. Not that he was a man of many words but he always made sure that any word coming out of his mouth meant something. At least when it came to you. He didn't give two fucks when it came to the guys, they could all whimper and cry for all he cared. Nobody meant more to him than you. The click of your tongue snapped him out of his racing thoughts and that giggle... that same glorious and marvellous sound that made him turn his head the first time you met, that time when your eyes locked and he knew that he had to talk to you, even if one of the players on the team had to be used as a wingman just to be able to get a word in with you. "Babe-" You laughed softly. "What's going on in that head of yours? Are you daydreaming about me when I'm in your arms?" With a long sigh, you mumbled and seemed a bit disgruntled, which obviously made the furrow between Hajime's eyebrows even deeper. "If that's the case, then I can just leave. Is daydreaming about me better than real me?" He knew you were joking but how dare you use that pouty tone on him?

"I won't answer your first question. You'll have to wait and see for yourself. But-" Pressing his hand on the small of your back, his other hand inched down to grip you by the waist as his lips hovered against your own, his breath fanning over your lips, tickling them lightly just as a tingling sensation arose in both your chests. "Do you really think I would call you over if I didn't want you right where you are right now?" Closing the distance between you, he loses himself in the little taste of sweetness he could get from a chaste gentle kiss of your lips. It was hard for him to even contain himself or exercise any form of control when he's around you. "Right here in my arms." He murmurs softly before going back in for another kiss, a little bit deeper, a tiny bit more passionate as he molds your lips together, sucking on your bottom one before breaking away once again. Gazing down on you as you both try to catch your breath from the small loving exchange, Hajime stared down at your cheeks that were now painted with the most adorable blush, his heart swelling with giddiness that he was the one responsible for such a reaction from you. "Come on, we're watching The Princess Bride tonight and I better not hear any objections from you." He smiled as he saw yet another giggle from you, even as you rolled your eyes and told him that you've already seen it a thousand times before and you didn't even know why he wanted to watch it with you. Silencing you with a small peck, his usual frown was still on that handsome face of his but his gaze was soft and endearing. "I want to know more about the things that you love so you'll have to humour me for tonight, baby girl."

Kissing your cheek, his hand finds yours and he guides you to the living room, pulling you away from the kitchen since he knew that was the destination you had in mind. You always wanted to give him a hand when it came to literally anything but when it came to your dates or your time together, Hajime wanted to show that he wanted to do things for you. It was simply his love language. A language that was created since he met you. "Thanks for coming over. I know it was last minute but the guys' practice match got postponed so I decided to cut them some slack." - he chuckled before meeting your eyes that were now crinkling with laughter - "Not that I don't plan on kicking their ass later anyway. Gotta make sure they are in top shape and remember who's the one making the rules." Once he ensured that you were seated, he threw you a glance of warning over his shoulder as he walked out to the kitchen. "You better sit tight princess while I go get the food. I'll be right back." He winked at you and chuckled at the way you squirmed slightly and busied yourself with the remote control as he prepared your dinner for you. Hajime had his own way of showing his love and spoiling you. The man wanted to make sure that he followed through. Making you feel special, trying to show but a sliver of how he truly felt about you. Sighing loudly and after ensuring that the pasta was thoroughly cooked, he meticulously dumped it in a bowl, big enough to fit 6 servings of mac and cheese and brought two plates along with him to the living room.

As "The Princess Bride" began playing, you both dug into your food and being the humble fellow that he was, Hajime didn't dare comment on the food but he did find it quite... acceptable, to say the least. On the other hand, the look on your face when you saw what he had cooked for you was worth all the effort. He didn't use the basic Kraft Dinner mac and cheese, even though it was basically your favourite. However, he just wanted to do just a little bit extra for you, add his own touch : a four cheese mac and cheese with the finest pasta from a local Italian shop that he always ate at and even took you to a few times. The first few bites etched an expression of pure bliss on your face and that drew a shit eating grin on his face, one that you didn't even get the chance to see as you were too busy filling in your plate with a second serving. While you munched on your food and whispered about your favourite scenes from time to time, Hajime tried his best to keep his attention on the movie but you were much more entertaining that it was while you recited almost every single line that resounded from the TV. He wished he could turn it off and just watch you act out the movie and tell him about everything you love about it, he wouldn't have minded that at all.

He chuckled under his breath at the look of amazement on your face when you both managed to finish and lick clean all the contents of the pot. He just let you believe that you ate more than him - just for shits and giggles - when he was also devouring whatever he could from the food (about 4.5 servings - the man works out A LOT, okay? Don't judge-). Nobody could blame him, it was fucking delicious and he was proud that you loved something that he made with his own two hands. Taking a short clean-up/bathroom break, Hajime cozied up on the couch, checking all the stupid emojis and texts he received from the Olympic team. How did they even know that he was on a date with you? The texts and emojis on the group chat ranged from: "Ya betta get it on tonight, Iwa-chan~ Ya frown too much cause ya don't get laid enough!" - Atsumu, the wannabe Shittykawa. "WAT R U GOING TO BE DOING ON UR DATE? WILL IT BE FUN? MAYBE I CAN COME!? I LUV UR GF" - Hinata, the sweet sunshine boy bordering on annoying but too pure to be so, Hajime had to admit that he had a soft spot for him and the rowdy wing spiker who followed up with a text of his own. "WE'RE COMING OVER IN 1H TO HANG OUT WITH U! WE MISS HER SO MUCH!", Bokuto's follow-up did nothing but make the trainer's blood boil with imminent rage. If those two dimwits dared to even ring the bell of his condo, Japan can say goodbye to their favourite chaotic duo.

Putting in an Airpod in his left ear, Hajime began recording the most graphically violent threat he could muster on the group chat and stuttering mid-way through the voice note. Yes, Hajime Iwaizumi stuttered out of surprise and YOU were the only one who could catch this man off-guard as you walked back into the living room wearing nothing but one of his T-shirts. He barely managed a quick "I gotta go", clicked send without looking at the screen, blinked and gawked at you with a baffled frown. "What happened to your clothes?" "Well~ Things did get a little messy in the kitchen and while I...-" You cleared your throat and bit your bottom lip, definitely not trying to turn him on. Sarcasm alert. "-kinda made things worse so I borrowed one of your T-shirts. I hope you don't mind." He simply shook his head, mumbling a husky "It's fine, what's mine is yours" and patted the seat next to him. His frown only grew deeper when you walked closer to him but made no sign of actually sitting down. Looking up at you, he could see the bright flush spreading across your cheeks when you pointed to his lap. "Is that seat taken?"

His eyebrow perked up in amusement along with a mirthful smirk, your bottom lip remaining a prisoner between your teeth. "Be my guest. Who am I to refuse a request from my princess." He chuckled as he grabbed your hand, pulling you into his lap and you squirmed in embarrassment, the feeling of your well-defined butt rubbing against him, those supple cheeks that his crotch was getting well acquainted with. The accidental groan that escaped his lips was a definite warning to stop what you were doing or continue at your own risk.

"If you keep wiggling your ass on me like that, you're gonna have to own up to your actions, sweetheart." His rough baritone was telling of the growing desire he had for you. He hadn't seen you in so long and he was starved for your touch, as if the soft brush of his calloused fingers on your thighs was no indication to his underlying intentions. He knew how sensitive you were and he was not above taking advantage of that fact, the slight shiver that ran over your body only urged on him, wanting to coax even more of these delicious reactions from you.

♥♥♥ "Iwa-" Before you could even finish calling his name, his lips were on yours, nipping at your bottom one and sucking deeply before licking his way into your mouth, tasting the freshness of mint from his mouthwash as he entangled his tongue with your own, groaning loudly into your mouth. Breaking only for a moment, he demanded your attention as his fingers began to meander up your inner thighs, wasting no time to slide his index and middle over your panties, a clear wet spot forming and drenching the fabric slowly..

"If this is what you've wanted all along, you should've just said so, you naughty princess." Pushing your panties aside with his other hand, he deftly parted your folds and circled his fingers over your entrance, gathering up your slickness before lathering over your slit, barely grazing your swelling clit that desperately needed his attention. Seeing how you held your breath and stiffened in his embrace made him only want to do even more to you. This is not the type of quality time he had in mind but he was definitely not going to object to it. "Baby girl..." He crooned huskily as one of his hands rubbed up and down one of your thighs, making sure that your legs remained parted so that he could finger you good enough, prep you for what he had in mind. Before capturing your lips once again, he licked the seams of your lips, demanding that your eyes meet his own as he murmured against you. "You call me by my name, baby. You're royalty to me, after all." He smiled softly as you responded in kind, calling out his name and pulling him in a deep kiss, your hips slowly beginning to rut against his fingers that had yet to turn things up a notch. "Hajime..." You whimpered shakily against his lips, his warm breath fanning over your wet lips as his thumb rolled over your sensitive bud, moving clockwise and counter-clockwise, fast and slow with just the right amount of pressure to leave you with fighting to catch your breath. With two fingers right at your entrance, he watches you with avid interest, humming in satisfaction every time a moan escapes your lips, his own hips grinding involuntarily against your behind as his own erection begins to harden under your squirming figure.

"Hajime, I want you inside me... Please, stop teasing me!" You squeal while your nails dug into his shoulders, gripping those thick muscles tightly, while his own body tensed, betraying the composure that he desperately tried to maintain. His large biceps flexing as he squeezes his arms around you even tighter, trying to cease the negligible movement of your body that is driving him insane.

"Shush, baby. I'll treat you good. Just relax." Finally plunging in his fingers inside you, he swallows your moans with a searing kiss while you cried out into his mouth, his thick digits thrusting in and out of you and curling into you, your inner walls clamping down on them and sucking him in. With every roll of your hips, he met you with a thrust of his own, his fingers knuckle-deep, reaching that sweet stop that has you keening, so damn close to falling apart.

Your lips parted with a loud wet noise, his chest heaving with bated breath, his state reflecting your own but it didn't change the fact that you were feeling even needier when he cruelly removed his fingers from your core. Your frustrated whine didn't elicit any reaction from him but, contrary to his exterior, he could feel his body bursting with heat and it became unbearable. He exhaled loudly, patting your thigh and growling in your ear. "Get up and take your clothes off, baby girl. I'm not getting inside you until you do."

Hurriedly taking off his shirt in one smooth go and just in time to watch you reach for the hem of the oversized shirt, pulling it up in a rush, exposing more and more of your smooth skin. Fuck... he wanted to mark you all up but the twitching of his cock straining against his pants urged him to do so later. There were more pressing matters to attend to and right now, he just wanted to drink you all in. Licking his lips with a desire only you could sate, the darkness of his unquenchable thirst swimming in his orbs almost too much to handle, yet you still kept your gazes locked as you unclipped your bra, letting it fall to the floor while he fumbled with his belt, unzipping his pants and freeing his aching length with a loud hiss. The way you squeezed your legs together didn't go unnoticed and he knew that he left you hanging. "Come here, baby." As you inched closer to him, Hajime placed one large hand on either side of your hips, guiding you before him as you placed one knee on the couch and then another to straddle him, giving him a glimpse of your dripping core that was so ready for the taking while you wrapped your arms around his neck. He could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins as he latched on to the crook of your neck, sucking on your soft skin deeply while sweet moans tumbled so easily from your quivering lips. "I've had enough, Hajime. I promise... Just please... I want you inside me." You pleaded as his warm hands settled on your butt, fondling your soft cheeks while he angled you right on top of his cock, groaning against your neck. "You're so perfect. I fucking missed you so much." With his fingertips digging into your soft flesh, he eases you onto his cock, sheathing himself fully inside you as you sink onto him, both of you moaning in harmony as your cunt clamped down on every single inch of him that you could take.

For a few moments, both of you remained silent, your forehead pressed against his bare shoulders and his own lying on the crown of your head. The silence of the room was filled with your heavy breathing as you allowed the fullness of your bodies, the fullness of your hearts washed over you and enveloped you completely. Neither of you wanted to move or even dared to, even though your instincts screamed to grind against one another and chase the release that you both wanted. But it wasn't what you really needed. This moment, the intimacy, this... love. "W-what about the movie?" You breathed out shakily against his arm, giggling softly while you began nibbling on the hardness of his bicep. He knew that you weren't even mildly concerned with the movie which made him chuckle out a deep laugh that rumbled in his chest. You... You never failed to those stupid butterflies flutter in his stomach with your cute little acts of possession.

He wore your love bites with pride and didn't mind that they were in a place that was even more visible than his neck. He licked a long strip on the column of your throat, decorating it with nips of his own, marks of his love and yearning for you while his hands sought your breasts, kneading them with tenderness. Even if words betrayed him most of the time, he trusted his actions to speak for him. "There's nothing better than watching you, princess."

–♥–

Please feel free to leave comments/feedback!💜 Masterlist

Tagging @shhhlikeme @hqissodelicate @cleverlittlevixen (I hope you enjoy your movie night with your boo :*) 💜

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let-us-cultivate-our-garden · 3 years

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Reflections on the 20th anniversary of 9/11

I was 13 when the Twin Towers fell. At the time, I had no idea of their existence. Before 9/11, I was just a kid whose world was school, books, family trips, and Saturday morning cartoons. Looking back now, those times were blissful to the point that I was ignorant of the world at large. I imagine a lot of Americans were like that.

On Tuesday morning, September 11 at 5:48 in the morning, I woke up. Something was wrong. The light was on downstairs. This in of itself was not unusual, my mother was always up at this hour preparing to go to work and I had set my clock for 6:15 to get ready for school. Still, I felt this overwhelming sense of dread. Some force told me that I needed to get up. Now. Then I heard my mother on the phone. She was frantic. I tore the covers off of me and headed downstairs.

Mom was on the phone leaving desperate voicemails to our family in New York. I turned to the TV and saw that the news was on. I saw a slim, silver building with black smoke billowing out from the top. The news anchor kept repeating that a plane had flown into the World Trade Center and that they would provide updates as they came.

The news replayed the image of the plane disappearing into the side of the building only for a red-orange bloom to erupt from the top of the tower.

The news anchors were calm and professional and turned to other news. They never turned their cameras from the building. A small insert of Bill Clinton appeared and he was talking about an unrelated event.

“I don’t know why Clinton’s on here, he needs to get his ass off the TV!” Mom snapped, on the phone with one of our relatives.

“Mom!” I said, shocked at her language.

“Honey, people are dying!” her voice cracked.

I turned back to the TV and watched.

Moments later, from a different angle, the news showed the plane again hitting the building.

Oh great, I thought. They’re just playing the same footage over just from a different side.

Then the news anchor spoke: “It appears that a second plane has struck the South Tower of the World Trade Center.”

Second plane? It was the first time I learned that the World Trade Center was actually two buildings. The whole time, the anchors referred to the towers as the World Trade Center. The chyron had read, “WTC Crash.”

The tone of the news anchors changed. They were still composed but underneath, you could detect their fear and anxiety at the events unfolding.

Mom made me stay home from school that day while she went to work. In my naivete, I thought, Yes! No school! But that feeling was not destined to last.

The rest of the day was more like a blur. I sat in my pajamas on the coffee table, watching as the news trickled in.

Third plane strikes the Pentagon.

A fourth plane crashes in a field in Pennsylvania.

I had no idea what any of this meant or what were the implications. The only time I felt shock, actual horror was when out of no where, the towers began to collapse. The cameras captured everything; the massive plume of smoke and ash that consumed Lower Manhattan, people running for their lives as the toxic dust cloud rushed after them as if in pursuit. The antenna spire of Tower One spearing down as the building collapsed in on itself.

That night, the President faced the nation. I don’t remember what he said. We just ate our dinner in silence while watching the TV.

Over the next few days, more information came in. Of individual acts of heroism from police, firefighters, first responders, ordinary citizens, anyone. Of the self-sacrifice of the passengers of United 93. Of people overwhelming blood banks with donations. Of who was responsible.

Anyone with a living memory of that day was changed whether you were there or not. 9/11 was broadcasted live for the world to see and is one of the most documented events in world history.

From that day on, I became interested in politics, history, terrorism, crime of any nature, human psychology, any field that could explain why we were attacked. As a teen, I read The New Yorker and The Economist so I could be informed of the world around me. I needed to know why. Why was my world turned upside down? Why was I sitting there in pajamas hearing reports of people leap to their deaths? Why did I feel sick to my stomach whenever I saw the Towers, even in movies and TV shows?

I had a hunger to serve as well. I come from a military family so I was used to the rhetoric of service, of protecting our country. I applied to the military academies but didn’t get in. So my career turned elsewhere.

9/11 affected my family in other ways, too. My mom became a veteran of both the Iraq and Afghanistan wars. I had to grow up fast and learn to care for myself while she was gone.

In the ensuing 20 years, more tragedies were to come. More traumas for our already besieged psyche. Last week, Mom and I attended the memorial service for Marine Lance Cpl. Kareem Nikoui, a local boy. He was 20 when he and 12 other service members were killed in the siege at Kabul airport. The memorial was appropriate; solemn and patriotic. Everyone spoke about how he was destined to be a Marine, how he hungered to serve his country. He died to protect our freedom. I remember these words. I believed these words. This is the rhetoric that got us into a 20 year war, into another unnecessary war in Iraq the caused a million dead and a new terrorism group. This is the rhetoric that politicians used to justify torture, domestic surveillance, violence against Muslim-Americans, and invading countries to spread peace and democracy.

What exactly are we dying for?

Kareem had no living memory of 9/11, the event that triggered our long war. He died for events that were decades in the making. He served his country and he died.

But it didn’t have to be that way.

I don’t believe we ever truly processed 9/11. We let the shock and trauma consume us and fundamentally change our society and how we see the world. We are still living in the long shadow of the Twin Towers and of its grisly aftermath. I can only hope that in the years and decades to come, we look back and see how we responded, what could have been done instead, and move toward justice and peace. I hope that we can finally emerge from the shadows and step into the light.

#9/11 #musings #September 11 #20th anniversary #war on terror #iraq #afghanistan #us history #world history #personal #long post

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petri808 · 3 years

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Bakudeku 31 days of winter ice skating prompt

No one is willing to work with rich but hot-headed pairs skater Katsuki Bakugou, but he needs a partner if he wants a second shot at the Olympics. His coach is desperate and finds former hockey player Izuku Midoriya who was injured at the last Olympics and can no longer play who agrees to give it a shot. The journey pushes Katsuki to change his ways so he doesn’t lose the one partner who gives him a second chance.

It’s generally based on the movie The Cutting Edge. Angst & Fluffy AU. 10K Modern AU

“This is ridiculous!” Katsuki snaps at his coach while pointing to Izuku. “He can’t be the best option! He’s not even a figure skater! And what’s with the hair! It’s a fucking mess! Where are you from, the slums?! Baggy flannel, really?! You look like a hobo! What about that Iida guy I told you to get?! Or Kaminari?! Someone that’s at least in the fucking right sport?!”

Coach Eijiro Kirishima pinches his brow and sighs, “no one else is willing to work with you after your behavior at the last competition. So, it’s this or give up your chance at next year’s competition.”

As the two men argued, Izuku Midoriya just stood there confused in the doorway of a large expense home. All he knew, is the coach had contacted him and offered a generous paycheck to skate again with a partner. It wasn’t ideal and he had no experience with figure skating. But the check cleared, and he needed the money badly. After a devastating injury on the ice sidelined his hockey career, life was a struggle. It took six months just to heal and medical bills needed to be paid. He’d assumed Katsuki Bakugou knew what the coach was up to... but apparently not. “Um, Eijiro, if he really doesn’t want me here, I’ll leave.” Just seeing the explosive attitude Katsuki is exhibiting is making him nervous.

“No, no,” Eijiro moves back to Izuku, while glaring at Katsuki, “he does, he just doesn’t realize it yet.”

“Pfft!” Katsuki sneers back.

“O—kay.” This is going to be interesting...

Maybe interesting is the wrong word, hair-pulling is more like it. Katsuki’s parents are rich, hence the mansion he’s now rooming in and to top it all off the guy has a personal ice-skating rink! An ice-skating rink! No wonder Katsuki was such a brat! But— the man is good, like really good on the ice... Katsuki’s skill as a figure skater is breathtaking to watch as he glided across the smooth white surface. Elegant, strong, and very handsome. But then the man opens his mouth, shattering the fantasy, and Izuku remembers who he’s really dealing with.

“Argh! Get it right Deku! Toe pick! Toe pick! Toe pick! Fucking learn how to use it! Two fucking weeks and your still face planting!”

“I’m sorry, okay! We don’t use toe picks in hockey!”

“This is not gonna work Eijiro!” Katsuki snaps at the coach. “I’m done today! Come get me when he fucking learns how to skate!”

The two men watch Katsuki storm out of the building. Izuku flinches at the sound of the door slamming shut. “Sorry Eijiro. I had no idea figure skating is this difficult.”

“You’re doing fine Izuku. Just keep practicing. You’ll get it soon.”

Izuku was never a quitter and no matter how much his hot-headed partner put him down, it only fueled his drive to get better. Early every morning he would wake up and skate until his legs hurt, then he’d ice them down at night, and start the process again in the morning. In hockey, elegant wasn’t necessary and being a little sloppy on the ice didn’t matter because you were too busy keeping from being slammed up against bodies or walls. But if there was one thing, he truly hadn’t anticipated was the physical prowess required for figure skating. When you watch the sport on tv, no offense, but those skinny bodies in tight leotards doesn’t make one think of powerhouses... until you attempt to pull off the technical moves that they do and learn really quickly how hard the ice can be on a human frame. If Izuku thought his injuries from a hockey match were brutal, figure skating is quickly tallying up the bruises and cuts to take the lead.

It’s been six months into the training and Izuku was growing curious as to what had caused Katsuki to lose his former partner. Eijiro was hesitant to tell him but did lead him towards where to find the answer. So, late one evening, Izuku pulls up YouTube and punches in the description the coach had given him. The results were... surprising to say the least and frankly shocked him because the partner he’d grown to know just didn’t fit what he was seeing. He closes the app and tucks the information away for the time being. It wasn’t worth focusing on the past if he wanted to get through the present. He just needed to buckle down and practice so that when the nationals arrive in 5 months, he’ll be ready.

As the smaller of the two, it’s decided that Katsuki would be the base and Izuku would perform the lifts. Such an act requires a lot of skill in balance and trust which wasn’t exactly the partners forte at the moment.

“Kacchan, we need to practice you lifting me up.” Kacchan is his new nickname for Katsuki. He didn’t know if the man really liked it, but he’s never stopped him from using it.

“You’re not ready,” the man replies curtly.

“That’s why we need to practice!”

“And what, break your neck?! Izuku, you ain’t ready yet!”

“Katsuki, he is ready,” Eijiro counters. “And Izuku is right, you both need to practice the moves in order for it to be spot on. If you’re afraid—“

“I’m not fucking afraid! Fine! You wanna practice, well practice, but don’t you tell me I’m afraid of tossing his ass in the air!”

Three more months, that’s all the time they had left to get two routines down perfect. A short program and a long program. Just trying to remember all the moves is hard enough, but having to execute them in synchronized patterns, smooth transitions, with elegant refinement, someone please remind Izuku why he took the job again?! As a partner, Katsuki is such an asshole to work with. There were so many moments when Izuku questioned his sanity in staying. The money was helpful, but is it really worth the abuse? And yet... there were also the moments when Katsuki might say something nice or a random ‘good job’ to Izuku that made him think, maybe Eijiro was right after all. Maybe Katsuki just needed the right partner. One who’s able to handle his outbursts and see through the hardened facade he shows to the world. It might have been lonely growing up as only child... Izuku should know since he’s an only child. But he grew up surrounded by neighborhood kids. Perhaps Katsuki had been isolated in this mansion for most of his life, because that certainly would stunt his social abilities.

The month before the competition was a whirlwind of activities. Grueling practices, costume fittings... Katsuki was monitoring what Izuku ate and how much sleep he was getting, like a paranoid mother. It got so strange, that Katsuki moved Izuku out of the guest room and into his own in order to watch him more carefully. Granted that Katsuki had a California king sized bed with a lot of space, but it was still awkward for Izuku to share it with him! What if he snored or rolled— sometimes he moved in his sleep. Plus, Katsuki was an early sleeper while he was a night owl. They are such opposites in personality and behavior. The first night fried his nerves so badly Izuku barely slept, only to be cussed out the next morning because he couldn’t focus during practice.

“Kacchan, please, I rather sleep in the guest room!”

“I don’t care what you want, this tells me I need to keep a closer eye on you.”

Izuku groaned and pushed away off the ice to get lunch. He knew there was no arguing with Katsuki unless he was ready for a fight. Wasn’t getting a restful night of sleep the better idea if he was so worried?!

Their afternoon practice did nothing to help his frayed nerves. Katsuki was acting so strange lately. When he talked it’s more like screaming at him, but when they trained... Katsuki’s touch was gentle? Intimate. ‘Duh’that’s what pairs skating is! Izuku chides himself. Like a dance of two lovers on a floor of ice. ‘Sex on ice... Stop it!’ Izuku couldn’t stop the heat flooding to his cheeks. ‘Don’t think like that!’ Ugh, he groaned again, now the mental image is going to torture him and if things couldn’t be worse, Katsuki saw him blushing to himself looking like a weirdo. Thankfully, all it gained was a raised eyebrow. Izuku is gay, but Katsuki isn’t the type of guy he normally went for and he swore he saw a photo in the man’s bedroom of a woman.

Putting aside all the crazy thoughts, Izuku finishes the day without invoking anymore of Katsuki’s wrath. They had dinner quietly before he was forced to go to bed at 9pm. Izuku prepared for another sleepless night as he lay there stiff on his side facing away from the other male. There was almost 2 feet between them, so he tried to pretend he was all alone, just him in a strange bed. Like at a hotel on the very first night and you’re still adjusting to its nuances. It was a comfortable bed, probably expensive with soft, silky sheets, and even the pillows were some fancy memory foam type. Perhaps it was sheer exhaustion, for after a short amount of time, Izuku fell asleep while running the choreography through his mind.

‘Wow it’s really hot today...’ Izuku stirred unconsciously from the dream and pushed the blanket down to his torso. ‘Maybe Yagi will let me go home from work early today, cause it’s exhausting to hang drywall on days like this.’ Izuku tries to turn around but he couldn’t. Panic set in the dream, and the walls closed in around him. ‘What’s going on?!’ He was working and now he’s trapped! Izuku pushes the wall with his back only to feel pressure increase around his body. “What the?!” It instantly snaps his mind awake and suddenly the construction site turned into the dark room of Katsuki’s bedroom.

“Stop... f’ing... moving...” the gravelly voice mumbles right next to his ear!

Izuku’s eyes blow wide as he looks down and sees the arm around his torso, registers that the heat he’d experienced in his dream was Katsuki! ‘Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!’ Why was Katsuki spooned up to him?! With every breath from the sleeping man blowing along his neck and down his back, every fiber in his body shivered, sending too many electrical pulses misfiring and blood rushing to the wrong places! Katsuki hadn’t just rolled too close, this was an intimate embrace! This couldn’t be real! Izuku tries to pry the man’s arm away gently without waking him only to have his ass grabbed by Katsuki’s other hand.

“Go the fuck to sleep, Deku.”

Izuku squeals. He can’t take this anymore. They weren’t that kind of partners. “K-Kacchan! Wh-What, why?!

“Can’t you just take the hint and go with it. I don’t do the whole flirting nonsense.”

“Oh, my god.” Izuku breathes out, he’s serious! And though a part of him gravitated to the idea of having this handsome partner in a relationship, Izuku worried mixing business with pleasure would blow up at some point. “Kacchan. I’m flattered, more than you might know, but I think we should just be partners on the ice.”

There was silence for several minutes and Izuku started to wonder if Katsuki had fallen back asleep and didn’t hear what he’d said. But it was the calm before the storm. Without warning, Izuku was pushed so hard from behind, he flew off the bed and landed hard on the ground. “GET OUT!!” Katsuki raged. “Get the fuck out of my room! Get the fuck out of my house!”

Izuku couldn’t see the man on the bed through the darkness but could almost feel the anger on top of the sound. One pillow, two pillow landing close to where he lay on the floor, then a lamp crashes on top of his hip. Izuku screams, scrambling up despite the pain and stumbling for the door.

“I-I’m sorry Kacchan—.”

“Get the fuck out!! I don’t wanna see here you in the morning!”

Izuku wiped away blinding tears as he packed up his few belongings to leave the mansion in the dead of night. He’d paused at Katsuki’s bedroom door on his way out; was the man crying behind it? It was hard to image the hot head crying but those were clearly the sounds of sobbing coming through. Izuku hung his head, fuck! He really messed up this time. But what could he do? Katsuki told him to go, and this was his house. He writes a quick note and slips it under the coaches door before taking a cab to the train station. The competition was only 2 weeks away, what about that? Is Katsuki going to throw away his chance to compete? Then again, people do crazy things because of emotions.

When he arrives at the station, Izuku find out that the next train to his town won’t arrive for another 6 hours. Just great. None of the food stalls were open at 2am, so he drops onto one of the benches and uses his duffle bag as a pillow. He sets the alarm on his phone and tries to get some sleep... that doesn’t come easily. Could he have handled the situation better? Okay, it wasn’t fair to blame him for making Katsuki cry. It’s not like the man gave any indication he was interested in Izuku in a romantic sense. Who does that?! Just forces someone to sleep in their bed and surprises them by spooning up in the middle of the night?! “just take the hint...” “Argh!” Izuku curls to his side and covers his face to block out the light. ‘This is not my fault! Stupid Kacchan!’ Tomorrow will be a new day. He’ll go home and just start over. Who needs Katsuki...........

“Wake up Izuku.”

“Ugh... go away,” Izuku groans and slaps away the hand shaking him.

“Izuku, get up. I’m here to take you back to the mansion.”

Wait, what?! Izuku opens his eyes, this can’t be happening. “Eijiro?!” He sits up, shaking his head and waving his hands to wipe away the man’s statement. “Please no! I don’t wanna go back there.”

“Look, I don’t know what exactly happened, and Katsuki isn’t telling me anything, but if you leave now all that work is for nothing and you don’t strike me as a quitter.”

Izuku shakes his head. “I’m not, but I don’t see how Katsuki would be willing to be partners. It’ll be uncomfortable for both of us.”

“He has no choice. This year’s national’s determines who goes to the Olympics.”

“What?!”

Eijiro grins. “Oh, did I forget to mention that?”

“Um, yeah! I-I signed up to— you know I was already concerned about nationals but now you’re telling me this is for a bid to the Olympics?! No! No! N-O, no way. I-I’m barely hanging on as is keeping up with figure skating!”

“Izuku think about it this way. You’ve both had a shot at the Olympics that were dashed. This is your second chance.”

“What do you mean both? Katsuki’s competed in the Olympics?”

“Yeah, the same year as you. I was surprised you didn’t recognize him.”

“I didn’t pay attention to the other sports because I was too busy worrying about my team.”

“Well,” Eijiro asks again. “Don’t you wanna have a second shot at gold?”

“Pfft,” Izuku sighs, “let’s just see if I can survive nationals.”

“Wonderful! Come on,” Eijiro grabs Izuku’s bag, “breakfasts on me.”

When they arrive at the mansion and walk into the house, Katsuki is standing in the living room with his arms crossed just glaring death daggers. Izuku gulps hard as he stands behind Eijiro who’d told him to let him handle Katsuki when they arrived. He was ready for the cursing, but the man just stood there.

“A-Are you sure it’ll be okay?” Izuku quietly questioned the coach. “He’s not gonna kill me in my sleep?”

“Well, at least not until after nationals.” Eijiro stared at Katsuki as he spoke. “Because he knows he has no choice.”

“Tch,” Katsuki stomps away.

‘This is gonna be a lo—ng 3 weeks!’

Excruciating to be exact. If there’s something that became brutally clear through this year to Izuku, is that in pairs skating, the chemistry between the skaters plays a role in how well they are received. They could be as technically perfect as required, but they won’t win over the audience and possibly even the judges if you can’t ‘feel’ their routine.

Their practices became mundane and performances, robotic. Katsuki didn’t touch Izuku in the same ways he had before, and he was noticing it more than ever. He realized the night Katsuki had made a move wasn’t the first time after all. Katsuki had been flirting with Izuku in his own subtle way, but he’d never caught on to it. That made Izuku feel even worse, but he also couldn’t go back on what he’d said because he meant it. Risking a relationship meant risking their careers. If they could just get through nationals and make the top 2 spots, they’ll get into the Olympics next year. So, despite the emotionless aspect of their routine, it was as good as they were going to get it to, and they were ready to take the risk...

But it still hurt.

The backstage area of the skating arena was a mad house with all the competing singles and pairs skaters cordoned off in their own dressing areas. Katsuki’s parents spared no expense on a team to get them ready. Perfect outfits, hair, and makeup to make them pop for the cameras. They looked amazing in their complimentary outfits, a perfect couple by design in every way except reality.

Ever since the night of the fight, Katsuki only spoke to Izuku as necessary in gruff tones. He would even look in his direction and never made eye contact during the practices. Eijiro tried so hard to talk to him. ‘You need to sell the illusion Katsuki. No one’s gonna buy your routine if you won’t even look at the man!’ But the hot head was unflinching in his stubbornness. His face would be towards Izuku, but his eyes looked elsewhere, and smiles were non-existent.

They were next in line, so the runners called them to the waiting area. As the pair stood and watched the performance going on before them, Izuku noticed Katsuki’s expressions growing angrier and angrier. It was his old partner with a new partner doing an amazing routine. Izuku recognized the man from the YouTube video as Shouto Todoroki and his female partner was fairly new to this level of the sport, named Momo Yaoyorozu. Had they been a couple, Izuku started to wonder, is that why Katsuki was so angry? Shouto and Momo’s scores elevated them straight to the number one position.

As they walked off the ice, both skaters smiled and nodded to Izuku, who returned the gesture with a bright smile. He had nothing against them even though they were rivals.

“No hard feelings Katsuki,” Shouto stuck out a hand.

But Katsuki slapped it away, “fuck off ice boy.”

Izuku immediately steps between them. “Sorry, K-Kacchan is just stressed.”

“Don’t talk to them Deku!” Katsuki grabs his hand and pulls him towards the ice.

As Izuku does as he’s told, he sees Shouto shaking his head in pity and he couldn’t blame the guy. Shouto seemed genuine, but it was Katsuki being the asshole. Needless to say, going into a routine angry was not the best idea.

“Kacchan, please,” speaking softly, Izuku begged one last time as they took up their positions. “Because you look too angry.”

“Don’t worry about me and just make sure you don’t screw up!”

‘Argh!’ “Got it.”

If there was one good thing, he could say about Katsuki, is the man is a machine and once the music starts, he’s all business, executing each step with precision like nothing was bothering him. Izuku too, stayed on track, meeting and exceeding his own expectations. He had been so worried that when the pressure really hit, he’d freeze up, make mistakes, and cost them this opportunity. The routine ends right on point to the wild sounds of clapping in the audience. It takes them a few moments to catch their breath before breaking apart. He tries and is rebuffed by Katsuki to hold hands as they bowed. Nevertheless, Izuku catches himself and plays it off, not wanting to appear unhappy for the judges. He thought they’d done an amazing job! At no point can he remember either making a mistake. Everything was right on point, especially the moves that carried the highest point values. They had to get 1st place! But when they stepped into the waiting box as the scores are tallied and posted, it wasn’t to be. The technical points were flawless, but the judges ranked them lower in components score... clearly the judges saw well and clear this pair was not a matching pair at all.

Katsuki storms away to the backstage area livid.

“This is all your fault Izuku!”

“My fault!” Oh, that’s it, Izuku wasn’t gonna hold back anymore. “I warned you, Eijiro warned you! You’re fucking attitude is what killed us! Every—body sees what an asshole you are except you!” He flails his arms in contempt. “A spoiled brat that can’t handle being told no!”

“You fucking take that back!” Katsuki lunges at Izuku who counters and pushes him away.

“I’m done!” Izuku screams and starts to walk away but turns back. “Oh, and for the record. I saw your last skate and Shouto did nothing wrong. You screwed up, you! Your hand slipped in the lift. No wonder you can’t keep a partner!”

Katsuki is so shocked, his mouth slams shut.

Eijiro tries to keep Izuku from leaving, but he’s done. They were in 3rd place and the odds of the last pair screwing up was slim to none because they were also former Olympic level skaters. But just as Izuku steps away they hear it over the PA, “oh, no! She fell!”

Their coach turns excitedly to the two men, “we are in!”

“No, we are not,” Izuku states matter of fact and walks away. This time he really is done. Done with all the fights and uncomfortable, complicated emotions. Going back to the Olympics would have been... the tears well up, but he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, before continuing his stride out of the room. It would have been amazing, but he’s not turning around this time. He can hear Eijiro calling his name. He can hear the sound of something smashing against the wall... it won’t change his mind. If Katsuki can’t change his attitude, then why should he have to put up with it? It’s not fair to him. A part of him once gave the man the benefit of doubt, but perhaps Izuku should have taken a hint from all the partners of his past. Katsuki Bakugou will never change. His arrogance destroys all of his relationships, and that’s not the kind of man Izuku wants anything to do with.

He grabs his belonging from the hotel room, checks out and goes straight to the airport without looking back. The whole ride home, Izuku sat in first class with his cap kept down low to avoid human interaction. It was a four-hour flight back to the mansion and his plans were to grab all of his stuff and leave before Katsuki and Eijiro could get home too. A whole year wasted... Izuku cried softly to himself in the darkened cab of the plane. Now he’ll just go back home to Minnesota and pick up where he’d left off. Going back to working with his brother in construction wasn’t the worst thing. At least he wouldn’t have to put up with being yelled at all the time or being treated like shit. And hey, he could figure skate now! Maybe he’ll find a new partner like Shouto had done. Oh, that would piss Katsuki off so bad! Izuku snorts a small laugh. He never considered himself the vindictive type, but the thought made him laugh at least.

Back home, Katsuki stood in the empty doorway to the room Izuku was using, quiet, his head lowered, not listening to the words Eijiro was saying to him. They’d arrived at the silent mansion and deep down he knew Izuku wouldn’t be there, but that didn’t make the pain hurt any less. They’d hidden the fight from the media and Olympics committee, so as far as the world knew, they would be representing the United States in pairs skating.

“We’ll need to find a replacement Katsuki... we’ll just make up a story that Izuku got an injury or something to smooth it over.”

But Katsuki doesn’t respond to the coach and simply walks away, slamming his bedroom door closed. He falls back against it, slumping down to the floor with his knees up, arms wrapped around them and his head down. This wasn’t the first-time people have walked away from him, fought with him, but Izuku was different from all the rest and when that man walked away without looking back, Katsuki felt something he’d never experienced before. Problem was, he didn’t know what it was! And so, his only recourse was to resort to what he knew which is anger. He’d smashed the makeup case against the wall and broke a mirror with the costume stand.

How dare Izuku stand up to him like that?! As far as he was concerned, he built that man into a figure skater, gave him a new career path better than some stupid construction job! This was an opportunity of a lifetime! He’d even offered Izuku a chance to be his boyfriend, doesn’t he realize what an honor that is?! Katsuki knows exactly how good he is, and any man or woman would kill to have him as their boyfriend! Yet this guy turns him down?! Ridiculous! Just walks away from going to the Olympics?! His fist is clenched so tight, he can feel the pain of his nails digging into the palm. He was so angry! So furious! So... destroyed... Izuku turned his back on him. Fuck him! Fuck— why does he care so damn much! He’ll just get a new partner. He’ll make someone else’s dreams come true...

But he didn’t want anyone else...

No, fuck that! Katsuki jumps to his feet. Izuku was beneath him. How could he have every thought this man could fit into his circle? The guy was a former hockey player from some rural town, while he came from wealth for fucks sakes! Yeah, fuck him! Know what?! Fuck everybody!

Katsuki pulls out his phone and dials his mother. “I’m going on vacation for two weeks... no. Not with him, we— I’m going alone cause I need a break!” Click Next, he calls an airlines and books the first flight to anywhere, he didn’t care where, he just wanted to leave that night. The only option for first class was Hawaii. Oh, good, they had a vacation home there anyways. Katsuki packs a carry-on of just essentials, too irritated to pack a full suitcase. He can buy more clothes when he gets there. Before he leaves, he writes a note for Eijiro with explicit instructions not to contact him until he returned. He slips it under the man’s door then takes his car to the airport since his driver is off for the rest of the night. This whole year left him emotionally unstable, so maybe some beach time and relaxation was the cure.

It was early in the morning by the time Katsuki had arrived at their vacation home on the picturesque Kohala Coast of the Big Island of Hawaii. He’d called ahead for a limo service to pick him up and drive him the 50-odd miles from the airport in Kailua Kona, and the groundskeeper to prep the house for his arrival. His plan was to do nothing but drink, relaxing alone, and to sort out whatever it was that plagued him. He’d slept for most of the ride over, but his mind would keep going back to Izuku. He tosses his bag onto his bed and walks straight to the kitchen for a shot of something, anything he didn’t care.

“ARGH!!!” Katsuki growls in the empty house. “Why the fuck can’t I stop thinking about him!!!” He takes a longer swig of the hard liquor before capping it off and heading the shower. It’s been about 36+ hours since his last one before the competition.

Day in and day out, Katsuki’s depression takes hold, alternating between fits of anger and crying until he passed out from the amount of liquor he’d consumed. The poor housekeeper that came each day, did her best to steer clear, cleaning up after those fits, to keeping the pantry stocked with bottles of liquor to avoid his wrath. For the life of him, Katsuki couldn’t understand why, of anything. Angry and feeling jilted by his partner. Confused as to why Izuku’s leaving hurt so damn much. He’d never experienced this level of despair before, just couldn’t fathom what was really causing it... okay, that was a lie. Katsuki knew damn well why he was so upset, but he just couldn’t bring himself to accept it. And so, he drank his emotions away, buried it under a tidal wave of alcohol and lived in a stupor of dreamless misery.

“Oh, thank goodness,” the housekeeper greeted Eijiro. “He’s passed out in his room.”

“Thank you, Ke’ala.” Eijiro thanks the woman and enters Katsuki’s bedroom. He rips the curtain open.

“Time to get up Katsuki! You need help.” The man on the bed is so drunk, he doesn’t even flinch. Eijiro pulls harder on his leg. “Get up Katsuki!”

The drunk mumbles something, then rolls onto his side. “You leave me no choice Katsuki.” Eijiro picks up the dead weight and carries him into the shower. He puts the man onto the shower floor fully clothed, then turns it on full blast, hitting him dead center in the face. That wakes Katsuki up real, quick!

“What the fuck?!” The man defends against the cold water, flailing his arms pitifully, and scrambling along the tiled floor until his back hits a wall. He wipes his face, “I told you not to contact me till I returned!”

“First off, your parents pay my bill and they’re the ones who sent me. Second, take a goddamn shower cause you stink to hell. Then meet me in the living room.” Eijiro tosses some clean clothes onto the counter and walks away without another word. He hears Katsuki swearing behind him, but he didn’t care.

Thirty minutes later an angry but sober, cleaner Katsuki walks into the living room and plops down onto a couch opposite of Eijiro who pushes a cup of hot coffee towards him. He takes the cup and starts to drink it, though his expression remained accusatory, with furrowed brows, just glaring at the coach. “What do you want Eijiro?”

“Do you even realize you’ve been gone a month?”

No... he hadn’t but, “what’s your point?” Katsuki retorts because he didn’t want to show he cared.

“Do you or don’t you want to go to the Olympics?”

“Of course, I do. But y’all were right all along. No one wants to be my partner, so guess that means I’m done.”

Eijiro sucks in a breath at the revelation. This was the first time he’d ever in their seven-year working relationship heard this man admit a failing. He was a little caught off guard, but in a good way. “Katsuki,” Eijiro sighs, “is this the first time you’ve ever been in love?”

Katsuki puts his cup down and leans forward. “What did you just say to me?!”

“You heard me. Just admit it, you’re in love with Izuku Midoriya.”

“Get out!” Katsuki jumps up and points at the door.

“I’m not leaving. The only way to get past this is to accept the fact you’re in love and because he left you, you’re angry and confused. You pushed him away— admit it to yourself for once in your life and just own up to it!

“I-I’m not in love with Izuku!” His hands fly up and grip to the sides of his head. All of this commotion and the emotions coupled with a hangover is creating a storm of a headache. “I’m not! I’m not! I’m not!” He shakes his head as tears start to flow. “Why is this happening to me?! I-I can’t be in love with him!” Katsuki’s hands drop, but flail in front of him. “And so, what if I am, he turned me down! I have nothing to go back to, no Olympics, no Izuku, just an empty mansion, so just let me drink myself into oblivion!” He drops back onto the couch, cradling his face in his hands as the dam of tears burst free. “Just leave me alone, please.”

Eijiro gets up and kneels in front of Katsuki, placing a hand on the man’s knee. “It’s not too late to fix things. Izuku is angry because of how you treated him, but he doesn’t hate you.”

“You don’t know that,” he grumps back.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure about it. In fact, I’m quite certain he likes you too, but the way you handled approaching him, scared him. Katsuki, relationships... they require honesty, sincerity. You can’t force someone to love you. You have to make them feel loved and appreciated.”

“I don’t... know how. I don’t know what he wants! A-And I’m not good at showing my emotions.”

“Why don’t you try talking to him? Be honest with him and tell him how you feel.”

Katsuki pauses for several minutes as if his coaches words are truly sinking in. Is it really possible? Could he do it? But he’d been such an asshole to Izuku, who in their right mind would give him a second chance. Because he certainly would not... and maybe that was part of his problem. He couldn’t handle the rejection, and so he did what he knew how to do which is lash out, and that’s exactly what he did to Izuku. Katsuki sighs forlornly, “I don’t deserve a second chance.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance Kacchan.”

Katsuki’s heart stops at the sound of Izuku’s soft voice, too afraid to even look up and confirm it wasn’t a figment of his imagination. If Izuku was really here, does that mean he’d heard and saw everything from the moment Eijiro had arrived too?!

Eijiro squeezes Katsuki’s knee. “When I told Izuku what we saw you doing here, he agreed to help bring you home.”

“S-Saw?” Katsuki closes his eyes and whispers.

“This place has security cameras. So, after three weeks had passed by and you still hadn’t come home, your parents pulled up the footage and showed it to me. If I knew things were this bad, I would have come sooner.”

Katsuki’s eyes only tighten when he feels the cushion next to him depress, and the scent of Izuku’s cologne hit him, to block a new wave of tears from escaping. He had no idea how much of the footage they’d seen, but it was highly likely they’d seen the days and weeks passing by with Katsuki drinking almost non-stop. He barely ate or took care of his personal hygiene, because he’d stopped caring, and all he wanted to do was numb his pain.

“Kacchan... I didn’t mean for you to hurt yourself like this. I was— still am upset about things, but like Eijiro said, I don’t hate you and if you’re willing to work with me, like a real partner, then... then I’ll come back. But we need to set some rules, like respect. You can’t keep yelling at me and expect me to stick around.”

Katsuki looks up. “But why would you give me a second chance?”

Izuku blushes and voice softens, “because Eijiro is right. I do have a small crush on you.” But when he sees Katsuki’s face brighten, he quickly adds to his statement. “I-I’m still torn about it, s-so please don’t take that as I wanna jump into a romantic relationship right now. I’m the kind of guy that likes some sentiment, to be wooed or swept off their feet. It’s gotta build up to a point where I’ll be comfortable with the idea, because mixing business with pleasure scares me. Just look at what happened when I turned you down. It ruined everything.”

“I guess I never thought of it that way,” Katsuki breathes out. “This is all new territory to me, and I really don’t know how to handle it.”

“See, this is great!” Eijiro cuts in. “You guys are talking like civilized people, it’s wonderful.”

“Are you done?” Katsuki grumps.

“That depends if you’re ready to start fresh and get back to training together?”

“Kacchan?” Izuku looks over beside him. “I’m willing.”

Katsuki sighs, his heart desperately wants to, but he knows it won’t be easy to control his feelings for Izuku. “I’ll give it a try.”

The trio spends one more week in Hawaii, to give Katsuki time to fully recover from all the alcohol consumption as well as simply enjoy a Hawaii vacation. It was the first time Izuku had ever been to Hawaii and wow, he couldn’t get enough of all the food choices! And the sunsets were just stunning, glistening off of the water! So many colors, it was like heaven greeting earth each clear day.

“I’ll bring you back here on vacation,” Katsuki tells Izuku one day as they’re roaming the Waikoloa shops. “I mean, if you want to.”

Surprised, but happy by the gesture. “That’d be really nice Kacchan.” Since they had to stay longer than expected, Katsuki insisted on buying Izuku some clothes and souvenirs to take back home. He tried to refuse, but the man wasn’t taking no for an answer. It was the least he could do, was the reply for putting up with him. Katsuki also refused to step into any shop he deemed of low quality, so the King’s Shops at Waikoloa is where they went. Tori Richard’s, Tommy Bahama, and Michael Korrs, all places Izuku would never have shopped at.

As they sat in the dining room of Roy’s Waikoloa bar & grill, Izuku stares out over the manmade lake next to the shopping center. He’d adjusted to fancier food because that’s all Katsuki’s cook would make but sitting there with the man in a restaurant was a totally new experience. It was really nice, and for possibly the first time since they’d met a year ago, Izuku relaxed.

He didn’t expect a miracle, or for Katsuki to suddenly change overnight for that would be unfair, but as long as the man tried, Izuku wouldn’t leave like he’d done before. Oh, but was it tough in the beginning! In Hawaii, Katsuki could control his outbursts, but the moment the pressures of training kicked in, so to, did his old personality. Unlike before, Izuku was quicker to say something, telling him to stop before he says something he’ll regret. It seemed to do the trick. The man would stop and move on. After a month, Katsuki started to catch himself, literally mid-sentence stop, and walk away. Izuku wished he’d be more open with him instead of running away, but it was definitely an improvement. By the third month back, he even apologized. Izuku remembered the first time Katsuki said sorry and after a moment of shock, he smiled and said it was okay.

But there was one thing he hoped would come back. He still remembers the heated tingles he’d feel when Katsuki would hold him in positions. It was lost after their fight, and the man almost seemed, afraid, to touch him in the wrong way. Afraid he would make Izuku uncomfortable and risk chasing him away again. He didn’t know how to convey such a desire without confusing Katsuki and opening up a door he wasn’t ready to walk through yet. So, Izuku kept his mouth closed and focused on encouraging the man to keep improving on his social skills.

With six months left until the Olympics, the pair had their short program already choreographed and perfected. That left the long program, and the most important skate of their careers left to solidify. It was a skaters last opportunity to showcase a brilliant program and garner the highest amount of points possible.

“We need a showstopper, something new, something so damn amazing the judges will have no choice but to give us the win!” Katsuki tells Eijiro. “Whatever you need, choreographers to help you, I’ll get it.”

“Well...” the man picks a folder up from his desk, tapping it in his hand before opening it and pulling out a few sheets. He walks over to the ice where the two men were standing, slowly placing each sheet down onto the ice as he spoke. “There is one thing that my old mentor passed down. It’s never been used— because the difficulty level makes it quite impossible.”

Izuku picks up the first sheet, “it’s basically a bounce, spin into a toss, spin?”

“That’s illegal,” Katsuki looks over the man’s shoulder at the paper. “We can’t do an illegal move!”

“Legal, illegal, it’s more of a gray area,” Eijiro clarifies, “just extremely difficult.”

The longer Izuku stares at it, the worse the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. “K-Kacchan would have to spin me like a centrifuge, throw me, then catch me...” he mumbled out as the blood drains from his face. “This defies the laws of gravity and if he slips...” he doesn’t finish the sentence, but the image in his head was of a face scraped off and bloody.

“It takes a lot of skill, a lot of practice, and above all trust between the partners.”

“I don’t know...” Izuku mumbles.

“I think we can do it. Hell yeah! This would win us gold! Come on Izu, don’t you wanna win?!”

“Of course, I do, but—.”

Katsuki grabs Izukus hands, holding them firmly with such excitement behind his eyes and a sultry charm to his voice. “I really think we can do this together.”

“O-Okay,” Izuku melts under Katsuki’s sway. “I believe in you.”

“No. I believe in us.”

Izuku’s eyes widen, his heartbeat speeds up, and all those tingles rush over him. Their eyes meet and hold as seconds silently pass. The cold air of the room disappears, replaced by the warmth centered from their conjoined hands. In that moment, Izuku was willing to believe, that yes, they could pull it off if they trusted each other.

Eijiro clears his throat, “I take that as a go ahead... so!” He claps his hands. “This will be incorporated as the finale of the program.”

“Way to kill the mood man.” Katsuki grumps causing Izuku to blush.

They order custom made training outfits designed to be aerodynamic but with padding in specific areas to absorb shock from falls. It was a brutal regime, especially on Izuku’s body and nothing in his past experience with hockey could compare. Rigging could only be used as they practiced the solitary spin itself, so when they practiced without it, he suffered fall after fall, tossed onto the ice when Katsuki lost his grip on Izuku’s legs. Frankly, it’s a miracle he never broke a bone, but bruises and cuts often slowed the training down. Katsuki himself added upper body workouts to strengthen and increase his ability to not only hold onto Izuku but control the spin. Remember, this is still part of a choreographed piece to music, so timing was everything. It fell on his shoulders not to screw up and miss a step. Three months into this intensive training, Izuku finally demanded a break after a particularly brutal fall that was a breath away from dislocating his right shoulder.

“I brought you dinner,” Katsuki walks into Izuku’s bedroom where he’s resting. It was wrapped by a doctor and he was told not to use that arm for the next five days just to make sure it didn’t get worse.

“Aww, thank you Kacchan.” Izuku smiles, “you didn’t have to.”

“It’s fine.” He tries to hide his blush. “I feel bad cause I messed up again.”

Izuku takes Katsuki’s hand causing the man’s blush to grow, and squeezes, smiling, and conveying more than words ever could.

With one month to go, the pair had everything in their long program down solid, except for the new move which they’ve decided to name in honor of Eijiro’s mentor, the Pamchenko. They’ve landed it twice successfully in the last two months, and the probability of sticking it under pressure at the Olympics was slim. So, with time running out they practiced a separate move instead to fill the void. It was still pretty spectacular, but not as jaw dropping.

Katsuki’s frustration had returned much to Izuku’s disappointment and he did his best not to anger the man. It sucked to be walking on pins and needles all over again, especially because being so close to the end, quitting would be crazy. Izuku just grit his teeth and ignored the man’s tirades, then cried himself to sleep some nights in his bedroom. They’d had six months of doing so well... he really thought Katsuki was changing for the better and growing into the kind of man Izuku would get into a romantic relationship with. But worst of all, is Katsuki hasn’t noticed his effect on his partner.

Izuku flops onto his bed after dinner and lets out a deep exhale, staring at the ceiling. ‘Maybe you really can’t change some people.’ Win or lose, once the Olympics was over it was time to say goodbye to Katsuki Bakugou.

There’s something to be said about the starting of the games and the walk the Olympians do. All dressed in the colors of their countries, head held high waving to the fans as their flags signal, their arrival. It’s a proud moment that such a small number of athletes in the world ever get to experience. Through blood, sweat, and tears, this was it, this is what they’d worked so hard for years to achieve. It was a second chance for he and Katsuki to shoot for their gold medal dreams. Which is really about pride not monetary gain. It’s to prove you’re the best in the world.

The morning of the short program was spent getting prepped like usual. Costumes, check. Hair and makeup, double check. Skates shined and sharpened. Music provided to the program director. There was nothing more for them to do but wait until it was their turn. Izuku focused on staying calm and not hurling up his breakfast, while Katsuki paced like a caged animal listening over the P.A. for the results as one by one each countries teams took the ice. They could go and watch the performances, but that might fry their nerves even more than it already was. Then again watching Katsuki pace wasn’t helping either, so Izuku steps out of the dressing area and into the hall for a break.

“Izuku Midoriya?” A voice spoke from his left.

“Yes?” He turns to look and smiles. “Oh, hello Mr. Todoroki. Heading up?”

“Soon. I just wanted to congratulate you on making it this far.”

“That’s really kind of you. Congratulations as well to you and Ms. Yaoyorozu.”

“Also, for surviving Katsuki. You must be quite the man to stick around.”

‘If only you knew.’ “Um, thanks,” Izuku chuckled nervously, praying that Katsuki couldn’t hear them from inside the room. “It’s been interesting to say the least.”

“So, you plan on staying his partner after this?”

Izuku pauses, debating whether to speak up or pretend nothing was wrong. But who was he kidding, Shouto had worked with Katsuki and was his partner at the last Olympics. This man would probably know if Izuku tried to lie about anything. He lowers his voice, head shaking in emphasis of his words. “No, well, I haven’t fully decided yet.”

“Well, if you don’t give me a call. I’ll help you find a new partner.”

“Oh. Wow. Thanks!”

Shouto tips his head. “Good luck to you Izuku Midoriya.”

He smiles. “Good luck to you too, Mr. Todoroki.”

The smile on Izuku’s face stays firmly planted as he watches the man walk away. Shouto Todoroki was easy on the eyes for sure, and he appreciated how nice he was unlike his own partner. Yaoyorozu was a lucky woman in more ways than one ever since they’d announced their engagement two months back. Ah, well. One day he’ll get lucky in the love department too. Still smiling to himself, Izuku goes back into the dressing room, but instead of a pacing Katsuki he finds a glaring one looking right at him.

“Kacchan, are you okay?”

Unlike in the past, the man says nothing and doesn’t respond. He can see Katsuki’s fists clenched at his sides as if he was barely controlling his anger. Had the man heard his conversation with Shouto?! Well, you know what? After all he’s been through, he didn’t care if he had. “Fine, ignore me. We’re up soon, so be ready.” Izuku walks back outside without missing a beat. He was through with Katsuki’s behaviors.

So, surprise, surprise, the short program was like a repeat of their qualifiers. Perfect technical scores, but the components... high skating skills, high transitions, compositions, and interpretations... mediocre on the performance element. Their whole vibe lacked an emotional tie to the music or each other and the judges reamed them for it. At this level of competition, when scores differed by fractions of points, the smallest misses could be your death sentence. It left them in 4th place, 2 levels below the other American team. To reach gold now required an extraordinary long program.

The limo ride was tense the entire way back to the rented villa, with Eijiro stuck in the middle of two men refusing to even look at each other. “This is why you scored low!” He snaps at them the second they walk into the front door. “You,” he points at Katsuki. “Your anger is killing this team! I had such high hopes for you both, but without the Pamchenko, it’s over!”

“Tch!” Katsuki crosses his arms, “I ain’t got no problem with that.”

Eijiro opens his mouth to counter, but it’s Izuku who snaps first. “You, selfish, spoiled brat! It’s easy for you to say cause you’re not the one taking the greatest risk and I’ve already left the Olympics once with a sidelining injury, so I’m not gonna risk it again!” Tears break free unencumbered as he walks straight up to Katsuki and slaps him as hard as he can across the face. “Just when I’d started to fall in love you reverted back to this,” motioning up and down at the shocked male, “the asshole who only cares about himself! How could someone like you ever love me?! How?!” Izuku screams at the top of his lungs... then silences his tears, “you can’t, not like this.” He runs away to his room, slamming the door, and leaving a flabbergasted Katsuki standing there like a fool.

“He’s right,” Eijiro walks up and stares him down. “All these years I’d hoped you would change— that he might be the key, but now I don’t know.” He walks away to his room too.

“Argh!!” Katsuki screams and leaves the house. Everything was falling down around him again! “Fuck!” But he knew it was all his own damn fault. He’d wanted so badly... and now to find out Izuku... “Fucking dumb fuck!” He screams at himself! How the hell does he fix this?!

The sun had not yet risen by the time Izuku and Eijiro were up and eating breakfast quietly in the kitchen area. Neither said anything, just looking down like robots programmed to follow mundane human behaviors. Katsuki’s bed was empty and it was clear he hadn’t slept in it, but no one knew where he was. The doorman told Eijiro the man had left after the fight and never returned, and he had turned off his phone. The coach was pretty certain Katsuki wouldn’t have left the area without retrieving his belongings, plus the airline ticket was still unused. So, where was he?

“We’ll go to the arena like normal,” Eijiro tells Izuku. “Hopefully Katsuki turns up.”

Izuku himself wasn’t in the best state of mind either and mindlessly nods at the coaches words. He knew the things he’d said to Katsuki were true and needed to be said, but that didn’t mean it made him feel any better. Part of him wanted to just forfeit and leave, but at the same time, he didn’t want to be labeled the reason a U.S. team had to forfeit. If Katsuki really was going to be the stupid one, Izuku wasn’t going to let the man take him down too. Katsuki came from wealth and didn’t need anything. All Izuku had was his reputation and honor, and that was worth protecting.

The longer the day went on with no sign of Katsuki, the more Izuku really wished he could just curl upon in some hole. He felt as if everyone in the field was silently judging him. ‘Where’s his partner? Did they have a fight? Poor guy. Aww how sad...’ there he was all dressed and ready for the long program with no partner. He warmed up on the ice just in case, but it was pretty miserable doing it all alone.

Less than two hours before they were set to skate, Katsuki’s mother walks in, dragging her son behind her. Eijiro gets up to meet his employer, but Izuku barely manages a smile when the woman comes up to him.

“I know we’ve never had a chance to meet Mr. Midoriya, my name is Mitsuki Bakugou, and I extend my warmest thanks for working with my problematic son.”

Not wanting to be rude to the woman, “it’s nice to meet you Mrs. Bakugou. Your son he... he has his good sides.”

The woman laughs, “no need to be humble, I know my son is a brat. And that’s my fault, I shouldn’t have spoiled him so much. But I just want you to know that you really have made a big impact on him.” She chuckled, “It’s been quite shocking for my husband and I to listen to Eijiro’s reports.”

“Oh...” Izuku’s eyes widen. He never knew the coach was spying! “I, um am not sure what to say,” he stammers.

“Okay, okay old hag,” Katsuki suddenly interjects and starts to push his mother out the door. “We gotta get ready, so we’ll see you after the program!”

“Don’t call me a hag you brat!” She yells at her son, then waves at Izuku. “It was nice meeting you!”

“It was uh, nice to meet you too,” Izuku responds and waves back.

Katsuki returns a few minutes later and approaches Izuku. “Could we talk in private somewhere?”

“You need to get ready first,” Izuku states matter of fact. “We skate in less than 2 hours and we need to be ready.”

Katsuki nods without arguing and goes to the stylists chair, telling them to make it quick. And it doesn’t take very long for them to dress and tame his hair. Once that’s done, Eijiro and the stylist quietly take their leave.

“So,” Izuku stands there with his arms crossed, “what did you wanna say to me?”

Katsuki sighs, long and deep, hanging his head and closing his eyes. “I know saying sorry won’t mean much at this point, but for what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry Izuku.” He opens his eyes full of tears. “Last night when I left, I was so angry at myself, at the world, then I saw you with Shouto again and that pissed me off, and I took it out on you again, and that’s not right. So, I kept walking, and walking, just thinking about everything. My life, about this sport, and most of all you. I-I don’t deserve you, at all, I know that.” He pauses for a moment and closes his eyes again. “And when I found myself standing on the edge of a pier ready to jump, I called my mom to come get me.” He chuckled forlornly, “me still crying to my mother at this age, it’s so fucking pathetic. She convinced me to come here today and finish what we’d started for better or worse, make it right by you because I’m the one who dragged you into this world and it’s not okay to make you face it alone. If you hate me, I—,”Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut again as he takes another deep breath. “I-I’ll accept that. If you never forgive me, I’ll accept it because I don’t expect your forgiveness. But I just wanna say thank you for everything and I’ll always love you Izuku.”

The whole time Katsuki spoke, the man never made eye contact with him, but Izuku could feel the waves of regret flowing from him in a way he hadn’t expected. It was different from the time in Hawaii, much more heartfelt. Not that Katsuki hadn’t been trying back then, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to describe it. This apology hit Izuku more deeply somehow and when the man said he’ll always love him— he just knewKatsuki meant it with every fiber of his soul... and he knew no one could ever replace Katsuki in his own heart.

“Oh, Kacchan I don’t hate you.” His voice was soft and full of tenderness. He closes the gap between them and takes the man’s hands, forcing him to look up. His eyes were filled with happy tears, and his ear-to-ear smile was brighter than any other time in his life. “I can’t say I’m not frustrated, but I don’t hate you. Okay? We’ll work on stuff together.”

At that moment, Eijiro pops his head back into the room. “It’s time to hit the ice guys.”

“Okay!” Izuku answers cheerfully before turning back and wiping away Katsuki’s tears and his own. “Come on,” he pulls Katsuki from the dressing chair, turning as he talks, “we’re gonna kick everyone’s ass with the Pamchenko!”

“What?!” Katsuki pulls Izuku to a stop. “No! You’re right it’s too risky! We’re not doing it!”

“Yes!” Izuku continues pulling and walking, dragging Katsuki with him, “we’re doing it!” He smiles genuinely, causing Katsuki’s cheeks to flush red.

“N-No, I don’t want to risk you getting hurt Izuku! It’s too dangerous!”

The closer they get to entrance of the rink, their voices lower but the back, and forth argument continues. Yes! No! Yes! No! Yes!! The announcer calls their names, so they skate onto the middle of the rink and assume their positions.

“If you think I’m doing all this to get a routine out of you, you’re wrong! Izuku, why are you doing this?!”

“Because,” he smirks back, “I’m in the mood to kick a little ass!”

Izuku’s statement and the energy exuding from the man, makes Katsuki’s eyes flash with an adrenaline rush of excitement. He’s never felt such a rush before a program, and he loves how it feels! Any doubt he’d had of his feelings for Izuku, melted away the second the music began.

Their bodies moved in perfect alignment, truly lost in the music and their long-practiced routine flowing as a dance along the ice like two lovers pushing and pulling against each other in reflection of the journey it took to get to that point. The audience ooh and awed, spellbound as the pairs hands, strong yet covetous, molded in loving embrace before heart stopping explosive leaps and spins send their toes curling, and lifting them off their seats. But no one was more enraptured then the two skaters. The world simply fell away, and the competition became a blur around them.

Izuku had no time to process the sheer excitement coursing through his veins or those elusive tingles he’d longed to feel again from Katsuki. But they fueled him, drove him towards their end goal, and made him feel more alive than he’d ever felt! It was magic, pure and simple.

They flowed effortlessly into the first stage of the Pamchenko, with no falter to the strong grip Katsuki had on Izuku. The man was confident which in turn made him relax and relinquish all control to Katsuki’s capable hands. Izuku stayed focused, his arms kept tightly to his sides, counting each spin as the g-force momentum built up to the perfect pitch... and finally the release. The audience goes silent as Izuku’s body spun through the air, one, two, triple axel... caught! In Katsuki’s arms as Izuku hits the ice again. The entire stadium erupts while the pair glides to a smooth stop in the middle of the rink, with Izuku dipped and cradled in Katsuki’s arm.

Neither cared about the judges or competition nor the screaming fans on their feet, cheering in a thunderous roar. It was just them gazing at each other as they caught their breaths with camera lights flashing all around them.

“But why?” Katsuki’s questions Izuku again, because he genuinely couldn’t understand why the man was willing to take such a high risk. “You didn’t have to do it.”

Izuku beams back, “I told you before,” eyes softening. “Because I love you.”

Katsuki’s heart skips and soars as he swoops in, kissing Izuku with all the pent-up passion the man brought out of him. It was magical, freeing, and nothing could compare to this moment, not even winning gold! He helps Izuku to his feet and takes his hand as they bow for the crowd then skate off the ice to await the scores. “I still don’t deserve you Izuku, but I’m gonna spend the rest of my life spoiling you rotten to earn it.”

Izuku giggles, “I just want the real Kacchan, that’s all I need to be happy.”

“Well, too bad,” Katsuki laughs back, “I’m still gonna spoil you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.” Katsuki clasps Izuku’s face in his hands with a grin. “I’m gonna work hard to curb my anger,” placing another kiss on the man’s lips, “but this is one fight you’ll never win, so just accept it.”

A tear trickles down Izuku’s cheek, which Katsuki smooths away with his thumb. Izuku felt like a damn princess in some fairytale, his eyes twinkling in the light. “Oh, Kacchan...”

#bakudeku #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku fan fiction #bkdk #Bakugou katsuki #Midoriya izuku #Bakugou x midoriya #bakudeku au #modern setting au #ice skating #pairs skating #Katsuki x izuku #ktdk #katsudeku

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dokifluffs · 4 years

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thank you for the happiest years of my life

warning: *spoilers to like parts of basically the entire show and manga but also mostly crack. soo you have been warned* also warning, l o n g

thank you hinata for your toilet song and your sunshine persona, never giving up and also all your bowel issues getting you in the most uncomfy situations with other teams, for being the greatest decoy thank you kageyama for your jingru bell, jingru bell and all your hinata boke’s, milk breaks, and probably deformation of hinata’s skull from how many times you grabbed it thank you tsuki for your arara gomen and being tol boi #1with great character development but also staying the sassiest one omfg thank you yamagucci for your gomen, tsukki and being tol boi #2 with superb confidence building thank you yachi for being the best townsperson B thank you tanaka for killing dadchi. Tanaka, nice kill! and being literally one of the best characters thank you noya for your rolling thundas and being the coolest senpai and being karasuno’s guardian and also choosing to come to karasuno simply because you liked the girls’ uniforms thank you ennoshita for being best dad #2 and tutoring tanaka and noya thank you kinoshita and narita for existing even tho you two are the most slept on akjhdkad thank you suga for being the best mom and also singing under the sea thank you asahi for being unintentionally scary and dressing up as jesus evry year for karasuno christmas thank you kiyoko for always looking out for karasuno thank you dadchi- deadchi- daichi for being best dad #1 thank you takeda for being the teacher sponsor of the club and having the best quotes out there homie, you really big brain thank you ukai junior for reminding the crows that volleyball is a game where you look up

Thank you Karasuno, for teaching me to fly

thank you oikawa for teaching me that instinct is something you polish, talent is something you bloom. also for all your yoho, tobio chan’s and milk bread being your favorite food, for hitting it till it breaks. you were always enough and i wish we could’ve seen you bring your team to nationals. hope your knee gets soon buddy thank you iwa for always calling oikawa shittykawa and etc. best bestie out there and also, you did your best. you are not a failure as an ace for aoba johsai. also thank you for making sure oikawa rested thank you mattsun and makki for being such an iconic duo thank you kunimi for sticking out your tongue in season 4 thank you kindaichi for being onion head and having a great character development thank you kyotani for making me intimidated of an anime character like bruh. homie, your back said “C”- thank you yahaba for being best setter #2 tehe and also putting kyotani in his place thank you watari for being Aoba johsai’s guardian and being tanaka written in cursive thank you yuda, sawauchi, and shido even if i didnt pay you any attention adkjah im sorry

thank you Aoba Johsai for teaching me how to rule the court

thank you kuroo for your hyena laugh, befriending kenma when you moved in next door, and being literally everything thank you kenma for being best pudding head and being the best sugar daddy after the time skip to our hina baby thank you lev for being long boi and having one of the best glow ups in s4 like literally scrumptious. Cant want to see your time skip animated and also, you’re gonna be a great nekoma ace one day bb thank you yaku for being literally the best libero im sorry noya kajdhas omg akjda goals and also putting lev in his place thank you shibayama for stepping in as libero when yaku got hurt in land vs. sky you did great bb thank you yamamoto for being tanaka written in magnum sharpie, punk font and getting into a dispute with Tanaka on S I T E thank you teshiro for being best setter #2 uwu thank you kai for being one of many underrated characters that should’ve gotten more thank you teshiro for looking the most like a cat and being a pinch server thank you inuoka for being a lil sunshine too

thank you Nekoma for teaching me how to connect

thank you bokuto for serving all of us your juicy a$$ but also being the best hype boi out there, capable of being so strong and proving to be so much stronger by growing out of your emo modes, for making akaashi choose to come to fukurodani thank you akaashi for playing with your fingers, for always looking out for bokuto, teaching all of us that we are the protagonists of the world, having a list of his weaknesses memorized thank you konoha for doing what we all wanna do and knee bokuto’s voluptuous ass thank you waisho for being like a normal lookin type bokuto thank you sarukui, anahori, komi, and onaga for being part of this great team and also boosting bokuto up

thank you fukrodani for teaching me how to pour my soul into everything (every ball)

thank you ushijima for teaching me how to harvest and farm for the ripest of fruits thank you tendo for BAKI BAKI NI ORAE NANI WO and being a weeb too. you were never a monster as a child or ever in your life thank you goshiki for being female jirou from my hero academia and also realizing how much you need to improve at the end of s3. made me cry man thank you semi for being suga in punk rock font thank you reon for being you cause you rock homie. you and kai would so vibe together man. good vibes all around thank you soekawa, yunohama, kawanishi, and sagae for existing even though yall were slept on thank you yamagata and akakura for having shiratorizawa’s back’s as liberos thank you shirabu for using ushijima to your disposal like he wished. you gon be a great doctor bb

thank you shiratorizawa for teaching me how to have an intense force to my persona thank you aone for being the best iron wall and having the cutest friendship with hinata like omg his current fear is no one wanting to sit near him on the metro akdjhahds i’ll sit with you thank you koganegawa for being the best angry bird bb thank you Futakuchi for getting knocked over when you chest bumped aone thank you obara, onagawa, and fukiage for existinggg thank you sakunami for having Dateko’s backs

thank you dateko student section for making the most iconic cheer out of the entire show that’ll never die also, check out the live action stage ones akjdhas nekoma is stuck in my head

thank you dateko for having the best cheer in the show

thank you saeko nee-san for being the best tokyo drift driver out there with your Taiko team and being the best leader leading the karasuno cheers for da bois thank you karasuno’s voice principal for not expelling our two celled boyos, kageyama and hinata thank you third gym for all the oya oya’s thank you bokuto for hooking tsuki onto volleyball when he blocked ushi thank you takeda for scaring ukai junior in season 1 when he repeatedly went back to beg him to be the coach for karasuno, begging to so many coaches and making sure they could have practice matches with other schools thank you to hinata’s tennis friend who taught him how to splatter step(?) thank you ukai senior for teaching them about the tempos thank you to the old guy that goes to every karasuno game even tho literally no one knows him bruh thank you to Shimada for teaching our bb boi yams to float serve thank you for the twins and sakusa and so many more teams thank you for bringing us to brazil with hinata, reuniting him and oikawa thank you for all the commercial breaks thank you for all the memes aka haikyuu dubbed thank you for all the radio shows with characters we may never get to see on the screen together thank you tsukki for pressing hinata’s diahrea spot thank you for dub yams’ he he he waluigi laugh thank you hinata for inspiring asahi to join the team again thank you kageyama for probably breaking hinata’s back so many times by kicking him thank you asahi for calling out to suga thank you kageyama for scaring the living shit out of hinata when he hit you in the back of the head with his rushed serve in season 1 in the practice match against aoba johsai thank you for all the meat buns eaten after practice, the popsicles nishinoya ate in two bites thank you noya for all the epic saves and pancakes you dove for thank you for kageyama’s “nuff, nis, niceu-” to tsukki thank you for tanaka and noya and yamamoto for all women are queens club thank you suguru for getting under kuroo’s skin and making him petty asf in land vs sky thank you alisa for being literally breathing, you and lev look so goodd post time skip like haiba sibs rule the world thank you tv that hinata had happened to be passing by, playing the game with the little giant, inspiring him to go to karasuno thank you kageyama’s grandpa for getting him into volleyball 🥺 thank you for all the races while running, all the flying receive laps, the hill runs, the training camps, practice matches thank you for all the disputes that could happen before all the gears could be made and put into place thank you kiyoko for saying that tanaka for some reason looks good with a banana thank you for the meat god dance, the serve cheer poses thank you for making me love volleyball tenfold thank you for moi pon thank you kageyama for telling hinata that he’s the greatest when he’s around, giving him his first official toss thank you hinata for telling kageyama that he sets just fine

thank you to all the voice actors for starting and staying through all the years to bring all our favorites to life, never failing us once

thank you spyair, burnout syndromes, tacica, nico touches the walls, sukima switch, galileo galilei, and more for so many amazing ops and eps

thank you for all the memories, all the laughs, cheers, heart racing moments, the moments that made us grip onto pillows, the edge of our seats, tears, addicting chants, making me simp for like 50 people, making my cheeks hurt from smiling so much, my voice raspy for cheering and screaming so much.

thank you to this fandom for being like a second family, sharing all our love and crackheadedness

thank you for the happiest years of my life

thank you haikyuu, thank you Furudate for bringing this amazing story to all of us and touching our lives with it

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c-c-cherry · 4 years

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Bucci Gang Headcanons!!!

I’m not really one to usually post this kind of stuff, but these are some lil headcanons my pal @jjadegreen and I have come up with while stuck in the same house during the quarantine!!

These literally range from *probably would happen* to *fucking crack* so y’all have been warned...

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Giorno is one of those people that has a secret sweet-tooth. Like. An insane one where if he actually decides to indulge in it he cannot fucking stop.

When he does go overboard, it’s usually because Bruno got his favourite ice cream flavour from the store and it’s always at some ungodly hour of the night.

He usually blames it on Mista somehow. Accidentally ate the entire tub of ice cream at 3am? No biggie. Just put the spoon on Mista’s bedside table while he’s asleep!

Everyone blames Mista for it EVERY TIME and now he’s not allowed to eat any ice cream when they buy it. Mista thinks it’s the Sex Pistols because he swears he doesn’t remember doing it.

Giorno just sits there like *sweats* “yeah uh no it had to be Mista, right? There’s definitely no one else it could be, right? Right??”

One time Abbacchio caught him in the act at like 4am and they have yet to bring it up.

He would spill Giorno’s big secret, but he really likes to see Mista suffer.

Narancia wears skirts sometimes and it’s not a big deal. He vibes, they all just vibe. No toxic masculinity here.

Narancia is genuinely afraid of those “IF YOU DO NOT SEND TO 10 PEOPLE THIS WILL APPEAR AT THE END OF YOUR BED AT 3AM” emails.

One time he couldn’t do it because Bruno took his phone away and he sat in bed all night fucking trembling in fear of what chain mail monster would eat his face off this time.

Abbacchio hates geese. No one knows why. Not even Bruno.

Narancia’s real stand name IS Aerosmith, but he’s dead set on calling it Lil’ Bomber because “that’s his rapper name.”

Mista is lactose intolerant but he doesn’t know because he just thinks it’s normal to feel excruciating pain when you eat ice cream.

“Like how pineapples hurt your mouth when you eat them.” -Mista probably

Bruno literally had to take him to the hospital one night because he inhaled too much ice cream and would not stop throwing up and Mista was like “wait this doesn’t happen to you??”

Trish hates butterflies because *fun fact!* butterflies often feed on not only nectar and fruit, but DECAYING CORPSES of animals!

When she was a kid, she was walking in some alleyway and ran into a dead animal covered in butterflies. One landed on her arm and she fucking screamed. She will never look at them the same ever again...

Giorno loves to make things into butterflies when they all spend time together, and Trish literally has to suppress a shudder every time one goes near her.

Fugo is one of those people that is basically not afraid of anything, but when a fucking bee comes near him he will LOSE IT. He’s one of those people that will have to get up and run away from a bee when it flies near him.

If you tell him that it will leave him alone if he stops moving, he will punch you.

Giorno likes to make shit into bees sometimes just to fuck with him

Bruno does not like dogs. It probably stems from some childhood experience that went sour, but he does not care. He will be stone-faced during any mission or situation, but if a dog tries to jump up and greet him he will freak. The fuck. Out.

One time Narancia and Mista brought home a dog from the streets and mama Bruno was like “NOPE” and zipped himself out of existence.

Abbacchio found him locked in the closet under the stairs when he got home and made them get rid of it.

Leone was more of a cat person anyway.

Abbacchio eats raw pasta.

Fugo plays chess with himself. When Giorno joins the team he’s like “ugh finally an intellectual” but Giorno has literally never seen a fucking chess board in his life and is too scared to tell Fugo so he just keeps making up excuses as to why he doesn’t “have time” to play chess with him today.

Mista doesn’t shower but he has a BOMB-ass face-care routine. Even Trish is jealous. His face? Baby soft? Ten out of ten. The rest of him? Axe body spray out of ten.

Narancia went through a goth phase pre-canon. Abbacchio was not happy because Bruno kept referring to him as “little Abba” but he let Narancia use his good lipstick anyway.

Mista found his special hat in a street gutter on a rainy day and it matched his sweater so he decided to just keep it. Abbacchio does Trish’s makeup. They go to Sephora together. I don’t make the rules.

Giorno never really told anyone (besides Bruno) that he got his stand naturally so they all assume he got it from Polpo’s lighter and when he mentioned something off-hand about “when I was a kid Gold and I…” everyone’s just like “bitch hold up-”

Abbacchio wears coloured contacts and his ass literally cannot see without them.

Yes they are expensive as fuck. He blows half his pay-check on them every month.

One time he lost them right before a mission so he had to pull out his heavy prescription glasses from like 8th grade. They literally looked like this.

I think you can imagine the outcome

Growing up, Giorno only listened to three songs.

The only reason he had access to these songs was because he found a really old Walkman on the side of the road when he was wandering around once. The tape only had three songs on it; Dancing Queen, It's Raining Men, and some song by Mozart. These were the three songs of Giorno’s childhood.

He still has it and likes to listen to the tape when he gets sad

Narancia doesn’t know what a period is. Neither does Mista.

Bruno forces everyone into the living room after overhearing this and makes them all watch one of those really awkward sex-ed videos from the 90s (you know the ones)

It was one of the worst days of their lives

They still have the tape and Narancia sometimes slips it in the VHS player when they all least expect it just to fuck with everyone

Bruno once held a capo meeting at their house (biggest mistake of his life) and all you could heard blasting through the walls of the other room was “YoUr bOdy MiGht Be gOiNg tHrOuGh sOmE cHaNgEs, fOr eXaMpLe yOuR P-”

On that note, Giorno was definitely that one kid who took notes during Sex-Ed

Abbacchio listens to Avril Lavigne

Giorno shaves his arms. It kind of started by accident but now he literally cannot stop or else his arms will look completely fucked up

Bruno has sensitive teeth. He can’t drink water that’s too cold cause it hurts his mouth. Abbacchio makes him tea :)

Fugo plays piano to help him with his anger. He would say that he plays saxophone too, but it’s more like violently screeching into the mouthpiece instead of actually playing it.

Narancia thinks that lesbian is a nationality

Even though Giorno lived in Japan for just a couple years, he’s still pretty fluent in the language because his mother would only speak Japanese to him growing up

The gang has no idea that Giorno is Japanese and when a foreigner is struggling Giorno just swoops in with perfect Japanese and they’re all just really confused.

Giorno doesn’t cry during movies or TV shows, but he’s one of those people who fucking BAWLS during video game credits

Mista and Narancia beat Ocarina of Time together and Giorno was watching from the sidelines and AS SOON as the credits started rolling there were tears.

When KK Slider starts to sing in Animal Crossing New Horizons and your character is brought into a music void and the credits start rolling he tears up just a little bit

Mista is squeamish around dead bugs. Not live ones. Dead ones and solely dead ones

Mista and Trish go thrifting. Mista goes to check the pockets of clothes for spare cash (cause he’s a broke bitch) and Trish goes to buy clothes

Everyone thinks that Mista doesn’t change his clothes but he actually just buys like 7 of the same outfit

Mista sneezes like a white sports dad. You know the sneeze.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Bonus Bruabba shit because Jade and I always go fucking HARD when talking about our local mafia dads:

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Bruno ties up the little strings on Abbacchio’s tiddy shirt every morning.

They got promise rings. Leone’s trying to find a nice time to actually propose but the gang keeps fucking it up every time they try to go on a nice date together

Bruno and Leone watch thunderstorms together

-The rest of the bucci gang stay inside and play monopoly or something when’s its stormy but these two bring out blankets and sit on the front porch and just be all soft and shit watching the lightning light up the sky and listening to the rain on the roof above them.

Bucciarati and Abbacchio have been mistaken as the following:

Bruno as a woman and Abbacchio as a man. Abbacchio as a woman and Bruno as a man. Two lesbians. But never an actual gay couple.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Yeah so I have no idea what that was. These were taken from a google doc we have together that’s just all these jumbled, crack-filled headcanons just for fun. I’m sure you can sense the pure chaos in this.

Go give my dude @jjadegreen a hello, sis made most of these!

uhhh let us know if you want any more from any other parts. Cause y’all know we probably got some. <3

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #headcanons #headcanon #crack #jojo's bizzare adventure golden wind #bucci gang #bruabba

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bitacrytic · 3 years

Text

The Black Rose

♧

There was a black rose on the third Saturday of every month on Yohan's calendar. Gaon didn't think anything of it during his first month in the mansion, but when the third Saturday of the next month came around, he noticed it because Elijah pointed out how Yohan always got missing every third Saturday.

So there he was, scrolling through Yohan's calendar for the past six years. And surely, on the third Saturday of every month, Yohan had a black rose stamped on it.

No location. No time. No persons to meet.

Just a black rose.

As the second month rolled into a third, Gaon waited.

Yohan spent the Saturday morning in the in-house gym, then he took a shower, ate his breakfast, read in the study, watched TV with Gaon and Elijah, had lunch, read some more books and then by 3pm, he retired to his room.

Around 5pm, Yohan emerged from his room in his prowling hoodie, tracks, sneakers and a face mask, all in black. As soon as he drove off, Gaon took a second car and followed from a distance, watching the bug he'd placed on all the cars from the tablet in the car he was in.

Yohan drove for thirty minutes into town, turned into a high-rise area, and then parked his car before he got into the one building in the area that had no sign board. Gaon followed, walking down the deserted alleyway that Yohan had taken from the back to enter. When he got to the door, he knocked. A screen dinged by the door and Gaon was suddenly looking at his reflection.

"Can I help you?"

"Uh..." Gaon said. "I... I was told to come here?"

"Are you new?"

"Yes," he said, quickly. "I'm here to sign up."

The person on the other side of the screen scoffed.

"Youngsters. Sign up for what? Is this school?"

The man hissed, but the door buzzed open anyway.

The small room was painted maroon, with one bulb overhead. There were two doors, both of which were closed. The black door on his right remained closed, but as the door behind slid shut, the white one on his left buzzed open.

"This way, please," a voice said on an intercom.

Obediently, Gaon entered the room.

"Fill in your information, sign the contract and you may proceed further."

A quiet voice in Gaon's head told him to turn around and just go back. These people kept electronic records. They were asking for credentials and a signature. Kim Gaon was a national judge. If this got out and this was a shady place, he'd be in so much trouble.

But then again, Yohan was here. Yohan wouldn't indulge in anything that could come back to bite him in the ass. Maybe it was safe. Besides, Gaon's curiosity had skyrocketed. There was no way he was turning back.

So he went to the table, picked up the tablet and began reading the contract. He was going to sign it, but the lawyer in him couldn't just click "yes" to Terms and Conditions without knowing what the terms and conditions were.

He filled in his name, scanned his finger prints, took a picture with the tablet. Placed his I.D. card on the scanner and then the T&S page popped up.

The first page was a standard non-disclosure agreement. He signed that.

Then they spent another page talking about community guidelines and etiquette. No rudeness, no violence, no stalking, no interaction with other guests outside of the building unless agreed upon. Various odd guidelines, but nothing wrong with that, so he signed that page too.

By the third page, Gaon was a little confused.

They talked about consent and roles and body proximity. There was a lot of intimation of the human body, in a way that could only be deemed sexual. A long list of rules for Dominants and a long list of promises to Submissives.

It took three whole paragraphs for Gaon to realize what he was actually looking at. A BDSM contract.

Gaon dropped the tablet on the table and stood up, covering his mouth with his hand.

"Do you wish to retract your application, Mr. Kim?" the voice asked.

"I..." he rubbed his face and ran his hand through his hair. "Give me a minute."

"Take all the time you need."

This was a sex club. A BDSM, sex club. Once every month. Yohan went to a sex club once a month. That explained so much about him but raised a whole set of questions. Of course a control freak like Yohan would relegate his sex life to once every 30 days.

Gaon could turn back now. There was still time. He could cancel the application.

But no.

He sat back and kept reading.

He'd never considered the idea of what BDSM was all about, but reading about it, in black and white was both exhilarating and horrifying. When he got to the end of the page, he signed it just so he could keep going and see what it was all about.

The next page asked for his preferences. There were three options: Dominant, Submissive, Switch. Beneath each option, there was a card that had nothing on it but the intertwined drawing of a rose. The Dominant card was black, with a red rose. The Submissive was white, a black rose. The Switch was red with a white rose.

Dominant? Submissive? What was he? Gaon was about to have an existential life crisis in this tiny room just thinking about it. To be safe, he picked Switch. It wasn't as if he was going to partake in any of it anyway. He just wanted to see what it was about.

They asked for confirmation and he gave it. Then a page popped up for payment.

Gaon laughed. The monthly payment was worth twice as much as they were paying him on the live show per month.

This was the moment he snapped out of it. Was he going to pay all that money just to spy on Yohan? Sighing, he clicked on "cancel". He retracted the entire application and watched as his credentials and biometrics were deleted from the system.

"I'm sorry that I wasted your time," he said to the empty room. He received no reply, but the white door opened once again, leading him to ante room where the outer door was already open and waiting for him.

The drive home was solemn and oddly frustrating. He'd learned a lot and his curiosity hadn't been quenched but even he wasn't foolish enough to pull from his savings just to watch Yohan boss some poor, defenseless woman around.

So he did the next best thing. He made dinner, had small talk with Elijah and then went to bed with his computer, searching the area around the sex club. He also tried finding out what he could about the black, white and red roses. There was nothing online about it. Either no one knew it was there, or they were cleaning up after themselves.

Shady and secretive. Just like Yohan.

Gaon was so starved for information that he considered confronting Yohan about it.

"It's not your business," he had to remind himself. "Just move on."

He closed his laptop and turned over to sleep.

Just move on, he told himself. You wanted to know what the black rose was all about and you found out. So just move on. Move on. Move on. Move on.

♧♧♧♧♧

The next morning, Gaon stumbled out of bed in a sleepy haze. He didn't think he could cook anything so he'd just order something for the house. As he turned the corner in the corridor, he collided with Yohan who was still dressed as he'd been the night before. He'd had his wallet, keys and phone in his hand, so the moment they hit, everything fell to the floor.

"Sorry," Gaon said, bending to pick them up.

"Late night?" Yohan asked, squatting to help Gaon who was taking a little too long to pick the things up.

Then again, who could blame him? Gaon was shocked to his core as he stared at the card in Yohan's open wallet.

"Are you okay?" Yohan asked, closing the wallet and picking his phone as he touched Gaon on the forehead. "Are you sick?"

Gaon opened his mouth to speak but nothing would out. For the life of him, on everything he'd ever suspected, Gaon would never have thought that he'd one day see Kang Yohan walking around the place with a white card that had a black rose.

Because even though he hadn't signed up to join the BDSM club, Gaon was pretty sure he could remember what each card stood for.

And the white card with a black rose?

Was the card for Submissives.

#the devil judge #devil judge #fanfiction #this was supposed to be a tiny comment #but it somehow turned into a fic #i woke up from about 4 years of not writing fanfiction to do this #devil judge what have you done to me #sigh #do i even want to put this on ao3 #bitafics

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deadghosy · 2 months

Text

🍃🍂🍃🍂

BEING ROOMMATES WITH COLLEGE MODERN AU! AANG:

𓇢𓆸°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･prompt: in a world where the Alta world didn’t have a war and it was just a peaceful modern life.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚being roommates with the avatar as you are just a non bender is either peaceful or chaos.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚oh you’re sleeping in? If classes were cancelled, he’s sleeping in with you as a appa and momo plushie is beside you. If classes weren’t cancelled, he’s sending a light blast of air to your bed to lift you up. You were startled and immediately started chasing Aang around pissed off while he laughs his ass off.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚movie nights are an absolute must. Cause Aang is a person who likes to hang out with people he feels comfortable with. So you better expect him to ask you to choose, he loves to know more about you.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚this man deadass almost burnt the dorm room down and you were panicking until he put it out with his airbending. Aang looks back at you still shaken up. He sighs going over to you, making sure you were okay. He hated to see you scared and he apologized by ordering your favorite food instead.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚Aang could possibly teach you history if you asked him. I mean, he was sealed in ice 100 years ago at most. You would hesitate as this bald headed roommate of yours just wait with a patient smile.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚he does take you to visit the air temple he came from. At the southern air temple, he shows you how he did the air scooter. You laugh and smile until he sped past you making you fall. You got up angrily and chased after him as he laughs.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚this little Mr clean ripoff asshole ate your leftovers once. And for once Aang saw death himself seeing you actually catch up to him around the apartment. AND HE WAS IN AVATAR STATE TRYING TO DODGE YOU THROWING SHOES AT HIM. 😭

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚one peaceful day/night was when it was just raining that whole time. You had told Aang that rainy days/nights make you tired fast. So when you fell asleep on the couch while watching tv and listening to the rain, he laid beside you. Having his tall body on you as you snore peacefully. Even momo joined, leaping on Aang’s head. It was just a calm moment the whole night/day.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚if you’re stressed and overstimulated by your classes and work. Aang is literally gonna hug you, and might as well try to do your work for you. He’s such a good friend and roommate. He looks behind him to see you sleeping peacefully with momo. He smiles, feeling happy that you are getting the rest you need.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚now if Aang seemed tired or overstimulated. He’s either being alone, or going into your arms for a hug since a hug is what everyone needs sometimes. He is deadass having his head in your neck and passing out. I feel like the reason why he is just tired is trying to keep the peace in the 4 nations to not make a war happen just in case.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚arguing over who’s answer is right is everyday of your life with him as your roommate. He’s somehow got 11 as an answer on a math question while you got 80 as an answer. You two were about to throw hands until Zuko came by and told you two dumbasses that the real answer was 20…

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚if you’re sick at dorm, he’s blowing up your phone while he is at class taking notes. He doesn’t care if he gets scolded or made fun by the gaang for worrying that much about you. He just wants you to get better so he can hug you without getting sick himself. Aang might as well make momo force you to medicine.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚you once accidentally snored on him, Aang snickered of course. But he wrapped his arm around you gently to make sure you won’t wake up or feel uncomfortable. He’s smooth like that.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚after being roommates for like 2 semesters, you guys became close friends. You would wear matching hoodies, shirts, etc. cause Aang is an affectionate person, he wants to make sure you have a friend to lend a shoulder on. He’s that guy who you could talk and rant to for hours and he will listen to you closely.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚you still smack his head as a joke to hear that impact. And yes Aang will blast your ass away from him and put you in ice prison or rock prison from his bending. He’s not playing games. See if you were heavy handed, it’s justified to have you in prison of rock or ice. Now if you were to have your hand wasn’t heavy but light, even if you try to hit hard. Aang is making fun of how “weak” you are.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚imagine how chaotic it would be at night if you two did a horror movie night. Screaming together and just start tweaking out at each jumpscare and every time the suspense was too much. Yeah both of you didn’t sleep until you guys were holding each other closely. With Aang having his arms wrapped around your waist and you having your arms around his neck. You jumped scared at a jumpscare, making you shiver into Aang’s neck. Aang had enough and turned the movie off, picking you up bridal style and taking you to bed.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚that time when Aang had his hair grown out, you tried to do small baby pig tails with his short hair. Aang relaxes at your touch as he almost falls asleep until you were done. “Ta-da! I’m done, go look bro.” You say patting his cheek. He lifted his head from your lap and walked to the bathroom mirror. He must say, he did look absolutely funny. But he looked “fabulous” is what you said. That was until he shaved his hair again to match his culture.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚i feel like being roommates personally with Aang would actually be calm sometimes. Considering you two have such chemistry together during these college times. He definitely has an album of you on his phone. He’s the type of friend to remember everything about you specially. And not in a weird way but like a “okay noted, get them this favorite snack when they are in a bad mood” way. But mostly he takes selfies with you by his side. Hide all you want. You are not missing this selfie.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚if there’s a fair around, he’s getting you all the stuff animals. You would have to drag him away from his yellow and red hoodie from the shotgun game. You were embarrassed by the stares people got at how the avatar was getting dragged by a simple adult man/woman like you. But honestly it’s fun with Aang at a fair cause he makes sure you have fun as well. Sharing cotton candy was the first thing in his mind as he pays the person and holds the cotton candy. You felt flustered sharing the cotton candy cone from his hand as he just laughs at how cute you seemed.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚Aang and you definitely had been asked if you guys are together. You would immediately try to tell the person no as Aang is trying to either process the accusation, or make it worse by telling them that you both are. Playfully of course.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚taking calm summer walks, and that summer air just hitting your face and his. It’s just relaxing. You two talk to each other, probably wanting to go to republic city for shopping for more groceries or such. You notice the sun setting as you smile, the golden ray of sun hitting your face. Aang looks at you lovingly while you talk about how beautiful the sun is. Aang agrees, still looking at you whilst you two sit down on the soft green grass.

#avatar aang #the legend of aang #aang #aang x reader #avatar the legend of aang #atla aang #aang platonic x reader #platonic soulmates #platonic #Alta platonic x reader #college au #modern au #Alta modern au #modern au Aang #modern au alta #avatar last airbender #avatar the last airbender #avatar: the last airbender

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icemankazansky86 · 4 years

Text

Chapter One: They’re Here

The static-prickled National Anthem is pouring in through the television speakers just as Billy traipses into the living room, a can of Coke in his left hand and a bowl of popcorn for Max in his right. He stumbles over a lump sprawled out on the floor with a short curse.

“Shit, Max- did you have to lay right there? ‘Almost fuckin’ ate the carpet...” Billy grumbles.

He hands the bowl of microwave popcorn to her with a huff before cracking open his soda and taking a sip. “So...” He says casually, turning towards the TV stand. “What’d I miss?” Max shrugs her shoulders.

“Nothing much... that Haden guy fumbled. I think?” She comments after a thoughtful pause. Billy rolls his eyes. “You have no idea what’s going on, do you, Max?” He asks, flopping down onto the couch with a defeated sigh. The redhead twists around, her pastel knitted Afghan falling from her shoulders. “Nope.” She stuffs her hand into the popcorn bowl on top of her lap and tosses a couple of pieces at Billy with a smug grin.

A couple of the fluffy kernels land in his hair. “Je- cut it out, Max!” Billy brushes the buttery bits out of his curls, his nose all crinkled up as if he’s caught a whiff of something rotten.

“Lighten up, asshole...” Max snaps with a roll of her eyes. Billy frowns. “Careful, shitbird.” He points a finger. “You roll your eyes far enough and they might just get stuck back there.”

“Oh, shut up.” The redhead retorts, slumping back against the edge of the coffee table. “This sucks.” She says, gesturing to the TV. “Can’t we watch, I don’t know, He-Man or something?”

“I don’t know...” Billy drawls, tapping his index finger against the side of his soda can as if he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. “Will it make you shut up?” Max, with her back still turned to him, narrows her eyes. God, she really really wants to dump the bowl of popcorn over Billy’s head. “Ugh, yes!”

Billy mumbles a half-assed ‘fine’ before getting up and walking towards the TV. He crouches down in front of it and begins to fiddle with the channel dial. Pictures shift in flashes of light. Football. Baseball. The news. Scooby-Doo. And then finally, He-Man. Max likes this episode. She’s seen it a couple of times, but she doesn’t mind. Orko and Adam are trying to rescue the Ice Lord’s daughter, the Starchild.

“Hey,” Max blurts, her eyes still glued to the screen as she offers the popcorn bowl to Billy, who looks at it as if it’s turned into radioactive slime or one of her moms mystery casseroles. “What’d you do to it?” He asks her sceptically. “You spit in it or something?” He eyes the contents of the bowl. “What?” Max scrunches her face up and shakes her head. “No.”

Billy’s eyes flick up to hers and linger there for a while like he’s trying to catch her in some kind of lie. When he doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for, he relents and accepts her offering. He settles down beside her, leaning his back against the coffee table. “Haven’t you seen this episode like ten times?” He asks, nodding at the TV. Max shrugs. “Yeah, but I like it.” Billy tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth. “Whatever.”

It’s 10 o’clock by the time the episode ends. Re-runs are always airing late at night. Billy shifts a bit, turning to look at Max. She’d conked out two thirds of the way through the episode. She lies half-slumped against the leg of the coffee table, her head bent at an angle that can’t be comfortable. Billy sighs and pushes himself up off of the floor. He snatches a throw pillow from the couch and tosses it down beside Max. It makes a sad little thud. He manoeuvres her as carefully as he can (so that he doesn’t wake her) and slides the pillow beneath her head before switching the TV off.

He hurdles the coffee table and throws himself down onto the couch, dragging the muted blue knitted blanket that had been folded across one of the cushions over himself before drifting off to dreamland. He’s able to get a good couple of hours in before being woken by the familiar pop of the television and the disproportionately loud static that follows. Billy raises a hand up in front of his face to shield his eyes from the blinding grey light and grunts. “What the hell-“

He sits up slowly, kicking the quilt tangled around his legs away as he gets up. Did he not turn the TV off or something? He could’ve sworn he did... maybe he was just too tired to realise he hadn’t in the beginning. It’s not like it really matters though, he still has to get up and turn it off.

The blond presses his lips into a straight line and huffs out through his nostrils. He crouches down in front of the flickering TV set, extending his left arm forward to twist the silver power dial to ‘off.’ He rotates the dial, but the power doesn’t cut. White noise growls at him through the screen. Billy’s hand falls from the knob like it’s gone numb and presses itself flat against the snowy screen. His other hand rises to do the same. There’s something, something in the ‘snow’ that’s pulling him forward like he’s got a rope tied around his neck. A voice, or rather a whole bunch of voices. Billy... B...illy, Billy- Bi...lly, Billy...

“Hello?” Billy’s left index finger twitches faintly before beginning to tap, tap, tap at the barrier of glass. “Hello?” He asks again, but no answer comes. His finger keeps on tapping, he doesn’t know why. “Who...are you?” He tilts his head to the side like a curious child and then-

“Billy?” Max is sitting up now, rubbing at her eyes with the backs of her hands. “What are you doing? Who’re you talking to?” She yawns, taking a few seconds to look around and see if there’s anyone else around, if Neil and her mom decided to come back from Illinois early, but there’s no one. No mom, no Neil, no one. Max turns back to Billy, who’s frozen in front of the television screen like a statue. “Billy.” She tries again, her brows knitting together in concern.

Billy twists his head towards her, the palms of his hands still pressed against the snowy screen and his expression blank. “They’re here.”

“They?” Max asks slowly, subconsciously curling her hands into that ugly pastel Afghan quilt of hers. “Who? Mom and Neil?” She asks after a minute. Billy shakes his head. It doesn’t look right. The action looks almost... mechanic.

“The Others...”

Feedback and suggestions are welcome.

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drethanramslay · 4 years

Text

Part 4: Fight or flight

Pairing: Aurora x MC (Iris Everette)

Word count: 3.2 K words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warning: Fluff and a little description of abuse

Taglist: @miyakokurono @agent-breakdance @trappedinfandoms @lilyofchoices @sekizincimektup (let me know if you want to be tagged)

Songs: Emergency by Jay Sean and Clean by Taylor Swift

It had been a week since their fight in the supply closet and Aurora was in a flux of emotions. On one hand, she wanted her baby girl back in her arms and kiss her till the end of time. But, on the other hand, she was just so fucking pissed.

Iris had not come home to the apartment for a week. She stayed, showered and ate at the hospital. Aurora kept true to her promise and gave Iris her space, but that didn't mean it hurt less. The seventh day after the fight, Aurora was distraught.

She had headed to Sienna's room that night and one look at her face and Sienna declared that it was the "eat ice cream till you are sick" time. They saw so many cliche rom-coms and crying which resulted in Elijah wheeling into their room to see if both of them were okay. "Oh my god... Rom-coms really?! They are shit."

"No Eli, they are the shit." Sienna corrected him.

"Get in or get out Eli." Aurora said as she sniffled.

"Geez okay I will join you two to see how can girls cry to such cliche storylines."

Nonetheless, the three of them started crying towards the ending of Titanic.

"Rose is such a dumbass.. Like how COULD YOU LET SUCH A NATIONAL TREASURE DIE?!" Elijah screamed at the TV.

"Yo...I think we broke him." Aurora said as Elijah continued to cry.

"Nah... He will be fine. But what about you?" Sienna asked as she turned towards Aurora.

"Everything sucks."

"Big mood." Elijah chimed in.

"It's just...it feels like I am in a waiting room." Aurora sighed. Sienna sent a questioning gaze towards Aurora.

"It's like... Iris continuously hints about her past. I like her so much....I really do but, she just won't let me cherish her completely. She won't let me in.. She has just put me in that space where I know more that the anybody else but less to know her completely. I know I shouldn't complain, but..... I hate seeing her in so much pain and I want to erase the sufferings. I was to kiss her troubles away. I want to tell her that I am all in, that I will be with her, through thick and thin... But, she still holds me at an arms distance." Aurora sighed, as the pain resurfaced.

"Aww honey...." Sienna reached and hugged her. Aurora shuddered and the need to cry just became so overwhelming.

"I have known Iris for a year and half and let me tell you, she has changed. She laughs more, jokes more and smiles more. She was a withered bud but when you came into her life, she bloomed into a beautiful rose. Iris... had never had many people she could be herself around or count on. I think her mother was the last person who she truly was the real version of Iris, but after that, nobody. So she grew thorns, so that nobody can hurt her again. She had accepted the fact that she was going to be a alone forever. But then, you came. You transformed her. It's a damn great accomplishment if you ask me." Sienna said.

Aurora blew a raspberry. "Trust me I know that. And I am proud of her for slowly opening up. She is self sufficient, independent and so so strong...but she doesn't need to carry that burden alone. I want to share everything. The happiness, the sadness, the beautiful and the ugly. She deserves so much more..."

"I know Aurora I know... I spoke to her a couple of days ago."

"What happened?" Aurora asked, hoping that she didn't sound too pussy whipped.

Stop lying to yourself... You ARE pussy whipped.

"She looks like she got hit by a train. She had dark circles large enough to carry groceries, she zones out sometimes and she is really, really paranoid. Like the other day, Bryce just went to close her eyes, so that he could surprise her. She fucking grabbed his hands and had him on his ass in a blink of an eye!!"

"What?!" Aurora was shocked. This was certainly a new development. She thought to herself.

"I am not joking. Luckily everything is fine but damn, Queen B has some nasty bruises on his wrist."

"Shit." Maybe, just maybe there was something else affecting her and the 'break' was just the cherry on top.

Fuck I am such a selfish bitch..

"Don't." Sienna said before Aurora threw herself into the pit of self loathing.

"Huh?"

"Don't feel guilty. Don't beat yourself. You need to understand that you are pushing her to be a better person, a better friend, a better partner. You are constantly challenging and calling her out. And I believe, that the kind of love you both have, it can survive any storm."

"Love?!" Aurora asked, her eyes as wide as saucers.

"Duh! Everybody can see it that the both of you are completely and utterly in love. Everybody, but the two of you."

"Do you think its true?" Aurora asked, trying to wrap her mind around this concept.

Sienna rolled her eyes before muttering, "Gods, for two smart people with their IQ's above 120, you guys are hella dense."

Aurora looked down at her hands, deep in thought. She was never familiar with the concept of this kind of love. Sure, she 'loved' her parents and family, but love another human being? That to romantically? Never.

She was of a scientific background and she always brushed aside the concept of love. Earlier if you would have asked her ‘what was love?’ she would have said that it was just a rush of oxytocin. Just a flux of chemicals. But now, if she were to close her eyes and think about it, forest green eyes stared right back at her.

"Holy shit." Aurora breathed out.

"God finally EEEEEEE!! One down, one more to go. Just know, I am rooting for the both of you." Sienna said as she squeezed her hand.

"Also can you like hurry up and make up? I might end up losing fifty dollars to Bryce." Elijah chimed in.

"This guys have been BETTING on when we make up?!" Aurora asked in disbelief.

"Eli, SHH!" Sienna smacked him, bullshiting back and forth. But Aurora didn't pay attention to that.

She was in love.

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Iris stepped to the back of the empty elevator and leaned against the wall, sighing. This week had been shit for her. Her girlfriend had called for a timeout, her asshole of a father was walking free on the streets, she had a panic attack, and she lost a patient.

She hated being so paranoid. She hated having to look over her shoulder every minute. She felt so guilty for hurting Bryce, and she profusely apologized by buying him his favourite tacos.

She shouldn't have to stay in such fear. Hadn't she suffered enough? Hadn't she lost enough already? Is her life nothing but a game for the man upstairs?

Being of a scientific bent of mind, the laws of her world were bound by logic and proof. She never really believed in the existence of God. But at moments of weakness, like now, she couldn't help but wonder who is responsible for fucking her life up.

The lift dinged, and she opened her eyes to see which floor it had opened on. But what she saw, made her eyes open wide.

Rory met her eyes and then looked down as she stepped into the lift. She pressed the button for the fourth floor where Iris was also heading.

"By the way, chief said that there is a storm incoming. He wanted everyone to be prepared incase of an emergency." Iris spoke up, cutting through the uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah...my aunt told me that. It also explains why they sent Dr. Ramsey and a couple of electricians to check on the backup generators."

Iris chuckled. "Yap. You should have seen the way he was grumbling and muttering quote unquote- 'God I hate that place...it gives me the heebie jeebies'."

"What?! No way!" She turned around to look at Iris, instantly regretting it. Iris looked like shit. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was so tired that she had to lean against the wall of the elevator for support.

"If you don't believe it, I can ask Baz to send the video to you. Chief had a kick out of it."

Aurora giggled. "Okay, send it to me Adara."

Iris winced and Rory turned towards the elevator doors, the awkward silence settling in. It was slowly suffocating her. She thought that the deafening silence would continue indefinitely, but Aurora spoke up.

"I just...I miss you."

Iris looked up to see the back of Rory's head.

"I miss you too Rory..."

Aurora's heart soared and shattered at the same time. God she missed that nickname so much.

"Adara... Please. Just...please."

Iris shuddered. Just a simple plea, but it held so much meaning. She walked ahead and stood next to her. Aurora found herself leaning towards her, missing the warmth and comfort Iris gave her.

"Rory, I am so sorry... But I can't. It was never my intention to hurt you. You deserve someone strong and willing to be by your side... I am not that. My emotional burden will drown you."

"Adara, I will be the judge of that. If you just-"

"Baby, I care about you alot. And, I don't want you to get hurt... Just know that I am so damn lucky to have had you... for those seven months, I am so, so greatful." She proceeded to kiss Aurora's cheek, before exiting the lift.

Aurora was stunned. She reached to feel the place where Iris kissed her.

She couldn't help but wonder why Iris's words sounded like a final goodbye.

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Everything was okay. There weren't any accidents so far and the electricity was still running. Iris sat in the diagnostics room staring at the window, watching the rain drops pelt mercilessly on the glass window and the trees dancing to the tune of the gale.

She always found the rain soothing. It helped her escape. She could spend hours looking at the rain drops, racing each other to the bottom of the window. Her mom used to make hot chocolate for her on such rainy days. They would cuddle on the sofa, and have endless movie marathons. It's one of the happy memories she remembered from her past.

She always cherished those moments with her mom. Life at home may have been hell, but her mother's spirit did not once break. She was so strong and brave. She was kind and loved with all her heart. Iris always wondered if she would ever be half the woman her mom was or the fact that would her mother be proud of the way Iris turned out to be.

Guess we will never know.

Her pager beeped and she looked down to see what it said. 'Report to the nurses station on the fourth floor. Your lawyer is here.'

Huh, that's strange. Thomas said that he won't come till next week..

Shrugging off her doubts she started heading to the fourth floor. She walked down the long, empty hallway whistling. It was just a front but deep down, she had a feeling that she was being watched. She turned to look behind but there was no one following her.

You are just being paranoid Iris...

But isn't it better to be safe than sorry?

She turned the corner and she collided with someone.

"Oh, I am so sorry-" Iris said as she backed a little and straightened her scrubs. She then looked up and she was completely frozen. She felt as if she was sucker punched in the gut. All the breath left her body.

He was here.

"Oh no its my- Oh." A cruel smile slowly etched into his face. He had aged, which was pretty obvious but prison made him look rugged with white hair peppering his balding head and his eyes looked more maniacal.

"Hello mija."

She had dreamt their encounter many times before. How she would punch the fuck out of his face, and break his left wrist, the way he used to break hers. She would beat him up so hard that he would end up in the emergency room. Those imaginations were so graphic, that she could taste the blood of that monster on the tip of her tongue.

But, at the end of the day it was only fantasy. Dreams are those tantalizing flames, which help keep the fire in us alive, while reality on the other hand, is a bucket of cold water, smothering those flames.

She just stood there in shock. It felt as if her head had been dunked into water. She saw his lips move and the people walking around them, but she couldn't hear a thing. Her breath was getting shorter and shorter. She felt weak. Pathetic. Just like the sixteen year old who lay there on the floor, awaiting her death.

No, no, no, I can't go into a panic attack right now.

"IRIS!!" Grayson shook her shoulders. "NO! Get the fuck away from me asshole!" Iris said as she tried to push him away. She felt like a bucket of maggots had been poured inside her shirt. She felt dirty, filthy and gross.

"Iris what has come over you sweetheart? You weren't like this before.." Grayson said, his face morphed into fake concern but she could see the anger and the bloodlust shining in his hazel eyes.

"Don't TOUCH ME!!" She exclaimed as she finally got him to take his grubby hands off her. And he had the audacity to act hurt. This bitch should get a fucking award for his acting.

"Hey, hey, hey." Ethan stepped between the father and daughter. "Sir, I will have to ask you to back away right this instance." Ethan said, in a voice so cold, that it could have withered a blooming flower.

Grayson held his"There is nothing going around here son. Just a father and daughter reconnecting after a decade. Ain't that mija?"

"Don't listen to him. He is a world class manipulator and a habitual liar. Get him the fuck out of here." Iris spat out, her voice poisonous.

Ethan turned to look at her, his eyes asking if this was the man who she had a restraining order against. Iris nodded subtly.

"I'm sorry sir, but you are causing a scene in a hospital, where people are sick and they need the quiet."

"No problem so- what's your name?"

Don't tell him, don't tell him, don't-

"Dr. Ethan Ramsey."

GODDAMMIT ETHAN. Just can't keep his fucking trap shut. She knew, that he would come for Ethan.

"Well Ethan, I don't mean to cause any problems. I am just here to take my girlie for a coffee.. have a chat." He smiled in a friendly way but, everybody knows that the term 'chat' means thrashing.

"I SAID NO. I don't want anything to do with you asswipe."

"How dare you-" Grayson's face twisted into a furious scowl. Iris just cowered behind Ethan.

"Sir, with all due respect, leave." Ethan said as two security guards started moving towards them.

"Alright, alright. There is no need to be so aggressive. I am nothing but a old man. What would I do? Beat up someone?" The last question directed towards Iris, his eyes gleaming. A chill went down her back, out of intense fear.

"I will meet you soon mija... And when we will.... we will have all the time in the world to catch up."

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Running.

Iris ran down the hallway, to a place where she could have some damn peace and quiet, which is kind of hard in a hospital crawling with patients, doctors and the grim reaper.

Her breath was getting frantic, and the need to breakdown was increasing with every step she took.

Get a hold of yourself Iris. It's just a little longer. You don't need to be a mess in front of him. You don't need him to have that power over you. Iris repeated that as a mantra as she half walked, half ran down the never-ending hallway, away from her haunting past.

She was just crossing the nurses' station where, Aurora stood, reading through her charts.

God, please don't notice me. I don't have it in me to face another heartbreak. Iris prayed.

A few nurses greeted her, and Iris nodded and smiled politely before her eyes landed on Aurora's cool, calculating ones. She quickly averted her eyes away, so that she would not betray the inner turmoil in her.

But, Aurora knew. Iris had that look in her eyes as if she would shatter like a porcelain vase. So, she shut her chart and followed the red head.

Iris had reached the lift, pressing the button continuosly, so that it could hurry the hell up. After what seemed like an eternity, it finally came and she stepped into the elevator. She pressed the button leading her to the basement.

There is a old on call room which is pretty faraway from the hospital's main rooms. So even if she broke things, screamed and howled, nobody would know.

She saw the doors closing and she let out a tired breath when Aurora nimbly slipped into the lift.

Can't I catch a fucking break?

"What happened, Iris? Seems like you saw a ghost. You look hella pale." Aurora asked as she leaned in the wall across Iris.

Iris grimaced. If only she knew that she was not very faraway from the truth.

"Nothing." She said as she looked down at the floor.

"I know it's not nothing, Adara." Aurora said quietly. Iris' eyes snapped up.

"Aurora please. Just let me be." Iris pleaded, looking up at the screen showing that she had just reached the second floor.

"Don't fucking lie to me.Something is going on, I can see it in your eyes." Aurora said as she stepped and stood before her.

She placed her hands on her cheeks, forcing her green eyes to meet with her dark brown ones. "Please tell me Adara. Please let me in. Please don't shut me out this time."

"Aurora....I don't want to hurt you. I am cursed. Don't waste tears on a dead woma-" She said as tears filled her eyes.

The lift shuddered to a stop. And it was dark for a moment before the emergency lights switched on. She turned towards Aurora, who was slowly realizing the situation they were stuck in.

The lift was stuck and so were the both of them. And this time, there was no escaping for Iris.

I had to type and retype this so many times because it just didn't feel perfect..

Anyways, the next chapter will be the finale and after that will be the epilogue. I am so excited ;)

like and reblog :)) let me know what you think

#choices #choices oh #choices stories you play #playchoices #choices stories we play #pixelberry #open heart #open heart mc #open heart 2 #ohsy #open heart fanfiction #aurora emery #aurora x mc #oh aurora

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skyfallensoldier · 4 years

Text

Mobile Navigation || Rules & Mun ↓

DISCLAIMER: I just want to note here at the beginning that while I am considering this RP blog to be historically based, i.e. remaining true to the time period and overall details of John Laurens' biographical information and whatnot, I do not consider myself a historically accurate blog, not entirely. Historical fiction is a well known genre of literature and many, MANY creative liberties are taken within that genre. Think of this blog like you would if you saw an Anastasia Romanov blog. She's dead, we know she didn't survive, and she's been dead a long-ass time; so has Laurens. People still have included her in many works of fiction, even after her body was identified and it was proven she did not survive her family's massacre. I saw a romance book a couple of months ago where she survived that was recently published. Historical fiction, while a controversial thing at times, is a legitimate form of literature.

You don't have to tell me if you think John isn't acting exactly like the real man himself would have, I know that. I'm not going to call John my 'perfect sunshine boy cinnamon roll' or dismiss the privilege he was raised on due to his father, I'm aware he was a real person who had his own personality, virtues and prejudices. I won't deny that while he was certainly a progressive thinking man for the time he grew up in he definitely still had racist thoughts and actions that were indicative of his upbringing. But I'm not on here to debate modern, real life politics, or get into arguments about whether he was a good abolitionist or not. At the end of the day, this is still a hobby for me, and I'm writing for fun.

Basically, don't take it too seriously. I'm a 21st century bisexual woman writing from the POV of an 18th century (likely gay) male soldier, the way I write him is obviously not going to be a perfect representation of who he was. I know he wasn't an amazing, perfect person, but I've still chosen to write a fictionalized version of him for my own entertainment. Please try to respect that; thank you.

Mun Stuff

Name: Luna Gender: Female (She/Her or They/Them) D.o.B: July 23rd, 1996 Age: 24 Nationality: Canadian Sexuality: Bisexual Timezone: Eastern Time (US & Canada) Activity: Daily BIOGRAPHY (SORT OF)

Hello, there! You can call me Luna! I've been interested in writing ever since I first got the internet when I was 14 and discovered FanFiction.Net and now I'm an aspiring author and Roleplay enthusiast. If you include acting/talking out DnD like games with friends then I've been 'roleplaying' since the fifth grade, but I like to think there's always room for improvement. If you ever want to chat I'd love to make a new friend or plot out a roleplay, so don't be afraid to shoot me an ask or send me a private message. Just because my muse can be a jackass doesn't mean I am! I’m a huge advocate for mental health, and if you ever need someone to talk to, please don’t ever hesitate to reach out! Some of my hobbies including literature and writing (of course), digging into mythology from various cultures, practicing solitary eclectic paganism/new age spirituality, drinking tea, and collecting crystals/minerals.

Please note that for the sake of disclosure, I am considered ‘Neurodivergent’, in that I suffer from ADHD, diagnosed at about age six, and have Anxiety and Depression which are directly tied to it. This doesn’t often effect my life on here, but I sometimes have an unpredictable sleep schedule (stay up all night, sleep in late into the morning, etc). I’m usually quick to reply to threads for the most part! I work every Tuesday and Thursday from 5pm to 7pm in addition to odd jobs here and there, during which time I won’t have access to the Internet. The rest of the week I’m on and off all day basically, so you can feel free to contact me any time.

RP Style

⭐️ Please use basic spelling/grammar/punctuation when you RP with me. I'm not a drill sergeant about these kinds of things, I know that typos happen, and if you have a vision problem or such we can absolutely find a way to work around that, I also have no problem roleplaying with people whose first language is not English, so that's totally fine and I’m happy to accomodate in whatever way I can, but it does make it a little difficult to play with you if I don't know what you're trying to say. For this reason I prefer if you not use any text shorthand (lol, idk, brb, jk, etc) unless our muses are messaging each other. Using it in the tags is fine.

⭐️ I roleplay Laurens in a past-tense 3rd Person Point of View (think story-telling format), and generally I don't use icons or text formatting unless I notice my partner does, then I will try to match their style (for example if you use icons and small-text, I will try to do the same, though because formatting isn't possible on mobile, any mobile replies might take longer to be posted than if I were on my laptop). If you have any issues with how I'm writing or need me to adjust my style for any reason don't be afraid to ask.

Contact

⭐️ If you spam me with messages over and over again about something I haven't replied to, chances are I'll drop the thread. I don't mind being reminded because I know Tumblr's notifications are notoriously unreliable sometimes, and humans can forget/lose things, but if you keep poking at me after I've acknowledged you the first and second time, I won't be pleased. Things can get busy on here, or in real life, or sometimes you're just lacking muse for that particular thread, y'know? It doesn't mean I hate you and don't want to RP, I'm almost always up for plotting, but muse tends to fluctuate.

⭐️ My ‘Discord’ is available to mutuals upon request. I don't mind roleplaying on there if Tumblr is being glitchy or you're just not feeling up to formatted/heavily plotted threads, sometimes Discord is fun in that you can do immediate replies without needing the effort of putting icons and formatting into it. I also have a Kik but I never use it. I don't RP in Tumblr's IMs, that's purely for OOC interaction.

⭐️ I also occasionally stream movies/TV shows in group chats or play “in character” Cards Against Humanity game nights, Among Us, etc. If you’re interested, lemme know, I’m always looking for more people to hang out with!

Important

I have no actual triggers that I'm aware of, although snakes do creep me out (mostly shots of them coiled up or images of their pupils), but there are some things I will not roleplay personally for comfort reasons:

⭐️ Cannibalism. You can mention it, for example I won't freak out if someone tells my muse that somebody else ate a person (he might, assuming its not a Supernatural type verse), but I won't RP him engaging in cannibalism, not even in AUs (blood-drinking vampires are fine). I'm just not sure I could stomach writing about eating people. I managed to watch Hannibal, barely, but writing about it? Nah. I can handle lots of horror, gore and disturbing content but not this. Sorry.

⭐ Incest/Pedophilia. I do not SEXUALLY ship with characters under the age of 18. John is not attracted to children, and would never consider sleeping with someone much younger than him.

⭐ I will not write anything sexual with muns who are under 18 years old, even if your muse is an adult. I'll still ROLEPLAY with you if you are under 18 but probably no younger than 16 just because things tend to get explicit on my blogs and I don't want to be accused of corrupting the youth with my foul language and weird opinions, lol. Seriously though, this blog covers a lot of dark subjects and while I’m all for minors exploring that safely through writing rather than in real life, some people aren’t comfortable with interacting with under age people for legal or personal reasons, please respect that.

⭐ Necrophilia. Just... no. Vampire threads don't count, as they're undead and not 'dead dead'.

⭐ Rape. I won't write it with you. I'm okay with mentions of rape, with rape/sexual assault survivor/recovery plots, and even with one character intervening to rescue another from an attempted sexual assault (if an attempted assault does occur, it will be thoroughly tagged and under a cut). I'm fully open to discussing rape recovery/trauma plots as those are things that happen in real life, and it can be interesting to explore how a character reacts to trauma. But anything else is a no-go, sorry!

⭐ Please be aware that I write Laurens as a gay man. However! Because of the time period, violent homophobia and social stigma, he has slept with women before and may be seen flirting with or referencing relationships with women in the past. He is still gay, and still uninterested in being with women long term, he's simply closeted to all but a few individuals. So, unless your muse is Martha Manning (who Laurens DOES love in a manner, and he always will), shipping with female characters on here most likely isn't going to happen unless it's heavily plotted/developed and part of an overall plot, and you understand that it will not be a conventional sexual relationship. I'm sorry if that disappoints you but I've read Laurens as a gay male for so long I have trouble seeing him any other way.

⭐ I will not roleplay slavery plots. This is not up for debate. Roleplaying a highly fictionalized version of a long dead real person who existed during a troubling time is one thing, but I draw the line at that. For this reason, while I'll happily play with non-white muses, muses using non white faceclaims, and crossovers with characters of all sorts, I'll have to decline playing with any muse claiming to actually be writing slavery. There’s a difference between, say, roleplaying a character like Daenerys, a fictional character who was technically a slave-bride sold by her brother, and writing actual slavery from a very real, horrible time period. Slave ownership will of course be mentioned on this blog, that's unavoidable, but just like the mention of rape may happen on this blog from time to time, it will be in reference to a past event or speaking about the subject in general, not roleplaying a scene of it. Please respect this rule, I was hesitant to make this blog at first, because I know it makes some people uncomfortable, but I won't glorify such a horrible real thing that happened to so many people.

Exclusives/Mains

Just a head's up, unless I develop a bunch of chemistry with a particular portrayal of a muse I'm not likely to agree to being exclusives with anyone, unless perhaps it's a very niche or divergent character that has formed a good relationship of some sort with John and I'd have trouble interacting with other versions of that muse. For major characters I just feel it would be unfair to say no to someone who I click with in every other way, solely because I have already befriended someone else writing that character.

I will, however, discuss becoming mains with someone whom I've either developed or plotted out detailed storylines/interactions with regarding our specific portrayals of our characters. This means that I tend to reply to them quickly when I'm online, or may make little gifts (moodboards, aesthetic things, mini ficlets, whatever) for them unprompted, have a verse dedicated just to them, etc. Even if it seems like we haven't done much on Tumblr, there may be a lot of off-site development on Discord or whatnot that led to us plotting out intricate stories for our muses.

Current Mains:

Alexander Hamilton - @quillborn

⭐️ Send private messages.

⭐️ Send my character asks/starters/memes.

⭐️ Tag me in things.

⭐️ Ask to plot or ship.

⭐️ Ask for angst, fluff, etc.

⭐️ Submit things to me & my muse.

⭐️ Do crack and other ridiculous things with me!

⭐️ Like my RP threads.

⭐️ Like my personal posts.

⭐️ Comment on my personal/OOC posts (if you want to).

⭐️ Comment on my crack threads.

⭐️ Instant Message (IM) me if you'd like to talk, whether we're friends already or not!

DON'T

⭐️ Send hateful messages to me about other people and especially my mutuals; doesn't count if it's about the muse and not the person playing them, however. Also, if I’ve got beef with someone for whatever reason, don’t harass them/send hate to them on my behalf, please. I don’t condone anonymous abuse, attacking others, or harassment. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself, I promise.

⭐️ Introduce yourself with ‘wanna ship?’ For one, I prefer if we’ve at least started a roleplay together, or have spoken OOC. Auto shipping doesn’t always work out and I hate promising people something only to realize there’s zero chemistry, because then I feel like I’m letting them down.

⭐️ Come into my inbox with just ‘wanna rp?’ and that’s it. Please at least have some idea of what you want to roleplay, it’s not very fun when someone approaches you to RP but then doesn’t offer up any suggestions at all. Remember, you are always free to send me memes, whether we’re mutuals or not, and hit me up for whatever plot you think might interest me! I want to hear about it!

⭐️ Spam me with "reminder" messages if I've already acknowledged you the first few times.

⭐️ Reblog my RP threads if you're not a participant in them.

⭐️ Send me anonymous OOC hate. Hate for Laurens is fine, it's just another form of roleplay.

⭐️ Kill off my character or severely injure/maim my character without permission or having plotted something involving that with me first.

⭐️ Follow me if you're a porn blog. I don't mind blogs that post NSFW content, or smut a lot, etc. I mean blogs that aren't for RP and are literally just a normal looking blog until you click on it and the header and first twenty posts are hardcore nudity and porn. I hate those things.

⭐️ Shame my ships.

⭐️ Complain about my tagging. I put my smut under a 'read more' without exception and tag them as "NSFW //" with two dashes. Things that are not necessarily graphic but still have sexual undertones go under "Suggestive //". I use these tags to avoid attracting attention from porn blogs and porn bots that track certain key words, as such I do not tag my content with "Smut" or trigger words such as "dick, oral, anal, nudity, etc", please block my NSFW and Suggestive tags if you're uncomfortable. Triggery subjects (mentions of rape, animal abuse, torture, mental illness) will be tagged under the name of said trigger with a space and two dashes, example: "Self Harm //", “Suicidal Ideation //” or "PTSD //".

⭐️ Godmod my character. If you’re not sure what is/isn’t okay, come talk to me! I don’t bite! If you’re looking for an example of god mod behavior, here: “X lunged at Laurens, taking him by surprise, and hit him square in the nose, causing blood to spurt.” It might not seem like a big deal but it means that you decided how your character’s actions affected my muse, and not only that, didn’t give him a chance to dodge or anything. Not cool.

⭐️ Ship with me without permission (sending in shippy asks is A-Ok if you're interested in exploring a ship between our muses, I'm talking about things like claiming that our muses are in a relationship without discussing it with me, referencing dates or sexual acts that never happened, etc. I ship mainly with chemistry otherwise things get boring fast.

⭐️ Assume/act like our characters know each other/are closely connected (friends/family/lovers) if we've never discussed it unless it is established in canon/history. This especially goes for original characters. I'm open to Laurens forming deep relationships with OCs obviously, but those have to be developed in character, not just assumed from the first interaction.

⭐️ Attempt to roleplay with me if you are not a roleplay blog/or if you're just trying to RP as "yourself." I don't do Character X Reader imagines stuff. I don't RP with 'fan' accounts, only RP blogs. You can still send asks so long as you're not trying to initiate an RP scenario. For example, asking Laurens what his hobbies are, asking for a blessing etc? That's fine. Spamming me with different actions "you" are talking to Laurens is weird. Stop that. I will also not RP with blogs that claim to roleplay as real life people, such as Markiplier, that's super creepy. This does NOT apply to "historical fiction" roleplay (obviously since that's what this blog is), which is considered its own genre of literature. I'm talking about the above where people will 'roleplay' as real life, currently alive people like YouTube celebrities and ship them with their friends, even if they've made it clear that they're uncomfortable with it.

⭐️ Get angry at me for doing something you don't like if you don't even have a rules page for me to go by. It's not fair; you can't expect your partners to just read your mind and magically know how you feel. If something bothers you let me know, I’ll make a note about it so I avoid it during our interactions!

⭐️ Use me as a meme resource blog without ever interacting with me. I don't require "reblog karma" for you to follow me, partners are more than welcome to reblog from me, but if we never interact and I just occasionally see you reblog fifteen posts from my meme tag and then disappear again I'm not gonna be happy. Go to the source or to an archived blog no longer getting notifications, please!

⭐️ Reblog my Meta/Headcanons. If they're from a different blog it's fine but the ones I've personally written are for MY portrayal of Laurens. I work hard on most of my stuff and I'd prefer if you didn't reblog it, not because you aren't allowed to have the same headcanon ideas as me, but because then it ends up getting liked or reblogged by lots of other people, spamming my notifications, etc.

OCs & Multimuses

I love OCs and multi-muse blogs (I have my own multimuse sideblog over at @historyremembers, which has other 18th century characters including the Hamilton children and some OCs), so feel free to interact! That being said, please have an about page of some sort on your blog. I can't follow back blogs that have absolutely no information available regarding their character(s). I don't RP with OC children of Laurens. This is nothing personal, but I'm fairly certain he was gay in real life and prefer to play him that way, and he only had one child - who he never even got to meet - in real life, so it just wouldn't make sense to me for him to have other kids running around unless he'd adopted some. If you're a multimuse, I may not follow you back if I'm only familiar with two of your muses if you have a blog of fifteen characters, simply because I'd prefer to keep my dash clean and only have characters/fandoms I'm familiar with on it. I'll still RP with you if you have a character I'm interested in! I just might not follow back if the majority of your characters I do not know, I apologize for this.

If you’ve made it to the end of this, congrats! I know it couldn’t be easy (my ADHD brain was frustrated trying to just write all this up) but it’s necessary so there’s not misunderstandings on what I am/am not willing to RP. I won’t ask for a password since I trust most people to have the courtesy to at least skim the rules of those they want to RP with.

Have a nice day!

#Everybody Listen Up! {PSA}#Out Of The Field {OOC}#Long Post //

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fanfic-scribbles · 5 years

Text

Lunch Buddy: Chapter Fourteen

Masterlist

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Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Story Summary: Steve Rogers makes a friend. A prickly, generally people-averse friend, but they’ll both take what they can get.

Quick Facts: Friendship (/Eventual Romance) – Steve Rogers & Reader (leading to Steve Rogers/Reader) – Female Reader

Story Warnings: Reader-insert that verges on OFC, written in 1st person past tense

Chapter 14: Thankful

Chapter Summary: Steve spends the holiday with his grumpy friend. His grumpy friend realizes something.

Chapter Word Count: 2867

AN: ‘Why does this start at Halloween and end around Thanksgiving’ well unfortunately Thanksgiving was when I always imagined a certain part taking place and I don’t want to stretch this out for another two months. It feels right to have this here, chapter-wise. So without further ado… (ノ✧ ω ✧)ノ*✲ﾟ*

“Wow.”

“Huh.” Steve put his controller down and changed the channel . “I thought you’d be more upset.”

“You wrecked me in the most convoluted way possible,” I said. “I can’t be mad. That was stupid impressive.”

“Thanks,” he said and sat back. “And thanks again for saving me from Tony’s costume party.”

“I didn’t save you; I just invited you to my party first.”

Steve looked around the room. “Do two people count as a party?”

“I’m sorry; where can I find the requirements to call something a party? Are they online? Maybe there’s a National Party Registry where I can–”

Steve shoved some popcorn at my face and I smacked him away, but I still had to dig some of it out of my shirt. Steve was, at least, decent enough to get the ones off the floor.

“Point being– there’s food, there’s fun, and if you don’t like it you can go and I will party by myself,” I said and turned my nose up at him.

“Touchy,” Steve chuckled and ate the pieces he had dropped. Well, the floor was clean enough. He added, “I am having fun though. Thank you.”

“Hm.”

“All I said was ‘thank you.’”

“Yeah, too sappy; I’d rather you go back to dumping popcorn down my shirt.”

His face turned red. Too easy. “I did not.”

“Did too.”

“Nope.”

I had the popcorn in my hand and, well, if life gave you kernels… “Oh, okay then. Here,” I said and held it out to him.

He, of course, recoiled. “No; you eat it.”

“I don’t want it,” I said and kept going. He scooted away like I had cooties, so I scooted closer until he was up against the arm of the couch. Short of leaping off of it he wasn’t getting away from me. “Come on; eat it.”

“No!” he said and shielded his face with his arm.

“Why not? If it didn’t go down my shirt then it must be perfectly fine,” I said and leaned over him.

Steve apparently disagreed, and we tussled. The fact that we pushed back and forth meant he was seriously holding back but it was funny, especially when I managed to drop the popcorn on him and he snapped. Gently, but I ended up on my back on the couch with him pressing down on my arms. Again, lightly, but he was making real sure I couldn’t get that popcorn back (wherever it had gone).

“You are such a wuss,” I said, still laughing.

“And you’re gross,” he chuckled.

“Hey.” I frowned. “I shower. I shower more often than I clean the floor.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t mean you were dirty, I–” He stared down at me, like he was realizing where I was for the first time, and he jerked away off of me– and the couch– like I was fire.

It happened so quickly I didn’t know what the hell to make of it. “Are you okay?” I asked and slowly sat up.

“Are you?”

That didn’t clarify why he wouldn’t even look at me. “I’m okay. Why–” Oh. Was that it? “You didn’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re worried about?”

He looked blank for a second, but then– “Yes. That.” He sat back down on the other end (on the very, very edge) of the couch. “I forget sometimes, how…strong I am.”

He still sounded weird in a way that made me wonder if I was missing something, but I sat up and gave him the space he apparently needed. Even watching TV felt awkward. At least, at first, until an unfortunately familiar image flashed on the screen. Awkward mood or not didn’t stop me from gagging when that stupid fucking turkey commercial came on.

“Not a fan of Thanksgiving?” Steve asked dryly as I raced to change the channel.

“I like Thanksgiving fine, I just hate that fucking nightmare mascot,” I said and sat back, safe now with c-level horror nonsense. “Also I’m tired of holidays creeping on other holidays. Stay in your month.”

Steve laughed a little and as much as I hated it, I had to be thankful (ugh) to that awful commercial for breaking the weird tension. “Thanksgiving is okay though,” I said. “Terrible history, but I get two days off and an excuse to gorge myself. What’s not to like about that?”

“Are you going anywhere?”

“Nah. There’s a place I usually order from. I’ll get some good food, put something on the TV, and just dick around for the day.”

He smiled and nodded, like that was exactly what he had expected from me. Well, I never claimed to be super unpredictable. “What are you going to do for it?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged and looked genuinely troubled. “Everybody else is pretty busy this year. I’ll probably just…do what I normally do. Where do you order from?”

Interesting. My plans were something I liked but it figured he wouldn’t be thrilled with that– he liked people, and being around people. I wasn’t the best company…but I was people. And Steve, somehow, always managed to be an exception to my rule.

“Hey,” I said. “Why don’t you come over?”

He looked a little stunned. “No, that’s– it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will,” I said. “But we hang out all the time and Thanksgiving is boring, if for no reason other than traveling is kind of a pain in the ass.” Admittedly I hadn’t really cared before the one time I’d needed to get to Manhattan, but I doubted I would ever forgive Macy’s for that nightmare. And Steve had to get around there sometimes, so maybe he found it annoying too. “We can order a lot of food together and just sit and eat and do what we’re doing now. And if Tony gets snide you can tell him you have plans.”

“I tend to make sure I do have plans,” he said and ran his hand through his hair. “Volunteering, mostly; there’s always something that needs to be done and I’ve got the time, so why not me? And it’s good, but maybe…” He looked up and stared at the wall like there was something worth considering. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have the day off.”

I was maybe too happy about winning that little debate, but hey, at least I had won something that night. Later, after having insisted that he could see himself out while I was too drowsy to argue, (the jerk), I tried to cement our plans. In my own way.

“Hey Steve?”

He stopped. I leaned on the arm of the couch to stretch out my back. “If anybody asks why you're not at a soup kitchen or any of that bullshit,” I said, “Just tell ‘em that you know someone who was gonna be real lonely at Thanksgiving and begged you for company. Clinging, crocodile tears– the works.”

It got a smile and a chuckle out of him, but he also looked mildly offended. He gave me a wry smile and said, “Soup kitchens aren’t bullshit.”

“They’re not,” I agreed. “But the idea that you don’t deserve a day off with the rest of us is. You do a lot, Steve. If you want to take care of anyone else, you have to take care of yourself too.”

He looked hesitant. I cleared my throat. “And there’s no better way to do that than to slip into a food coma.”

He laughed– so loud it surprised us both. His smile was easier when he said, “I’ll take your word for it.”

“You’ll get to test it out, actually,” I said. “I’ll bring a menu around sometime this week and as soon as we sort out food I’ll place the order.”

“Sounds great.” He slung his pack over his shoulder. “Good night.”

Picking the food was easy enough. Mostly. Steve thought he was more boring than he actually was and I made a mental note of some of the things he looked at the weirdest that I knew he would end up stealing if I gave him a chance. He also wanted to figure out how much the food would be so he could give me the money right away, but when he insisted on calculating out the ratio of portion sizes to price I checked my watch and gave up.

“Oh my god; if you make me do this much math on my break I’m going to make you pay for all of it,” I groaned into my hand.

“Okay!” Steve replied, blatantly unbothered by the idea.

I opened my mouth to argue but then I thought about the energy it would take, and the smug look currently on his face, and how much did I really care about any of this? “Fine,” I said, to his obvious surprise. “I’m hosting, and actually getting the food, so you can take care of paying for it. We’ll call it ‘The Asshole Tax.’”

“We’re not calling it that,” he said, but he was sort of smiling. Because he was totally okay with being an asshole. So I ripped a page out of my notebook, wrote down the total, titled it ‘Asshole Tax,’ and dropped it in front of him as I stood to pack and leave.

“That is a lot of food,” he said, frowning at the menu as I stowed it away. “Maybe I should go get it too.”

“Do you want to explain to some random cashier why you’re picking up food under my name?” I asked. He frowned further and I rolled my eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered. In the meantime–” I shook my drink and took a sip. “Enjoy your boba.”

He scowled at me but pulled his drink closer. Just before I left I heard him mutter, “Just because I like it doesn’t mean it isn’t weird.”

I rolled my eyes and walked away, already mentally doubling at least two of the dishes.

The weeks passed like I was living the last month of high school all over again, but finally the day came. Steve came over about noon and I gave his jeans the stink-eye, until he brought his backpack around and partially pulled out a pair of drawstring pants.

“Do I fit the dress code now?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said and let him in. “I’m not going to be the only one in my PJs, but I’m also not dressing up.”

“I know better than to ask that,” he said and narrowly dodged a swat from the spoon I had been using to stir the gravy. Pro of going with traditional food: this place made it so good. Con of going with traditional food: there was some reheating involved. Ultimately it was all worth it though. I couldn’t wait to hear what Steve thought; I really hoped he didn’t regret this.

“Go get changed,” I said and waved it threateningly. “Food’s almost all ready.”

He grinned. “Okay, but, uh…” He leaned forward. I moved back, not sure why he was suddenly so close, until he reached in and…wiped some gravy off my cheek.

“You might want to watch out for karma,” he said with that stupid fucking smile.

I chased him to the bathroom but he was too quick to slam the door on my face. I stalked back to the food and, manners be damned, started loading up my plate first. He came back in comfy pants and a too-tight t-shirt that I immediately snapped the sleeve of.

“Hey!” he said and bumped into my side.

“I’m not the one buying shirts tight enough to double as rubber bands,” I said. I gestured at the food spread out across all available counter space. “Eat up. Cold stuff is still in the fridge and snack stuff is on the coffee table.”

“This looks great.” He hugged me with one arm. “Thanks for getting it.”

“Yeah yeah, get your stuff and sit down,” I said and took my food over to my little corner of the couch. I had a blanket for me and a blanket for Steve, a selection of nonsense to watch on the TV that was not parade-related, and a view of grey skies from a warm and brightly-lit apartment.

It was going to be a good day.

I even got a little vindication when I went back to the fridge to get something to drink and saw Steve very intensely eyeing a casserole he had pooh-poohed on the menu when we were picking things out. He glanced at me, glanced at the food, and I took in the sight for several seconds before telling him, “Fine, you can have half,” and before I even finished the sentence he had scooped his entire portion right onto his plate. It took up almost the whole surface. “You should trust me by now when I tell you things are good.”

“I wish I could agree with that,” he said and gave me a disapproving look.

“Hey, you said pick a lunch place and I took you to a burger joint,” I said innocently. “Sure it had a weird name, but the food was good, right?”

“You knew what you were doing,” he said, staring down at me.

I lasted about two seconds before I broke and laughed.

And the day was good. Steve was someone I could hang out with without fear, and I had only been half-joking about the dress code– because he brought clothes to lounge in, I didn’t feel self-conscious in mine. And the way he looked so enviously at my unicorn slippers even gave me an idea for a good holiday gift.

And since we were hanging out on the couch, it was natural that we gravitated closer together. Natural, but when I finally noticed just how close we were, I froze up a little. Was it okay for me to–

“You can lean back if you want,” he said.

“Really?” I asked and eyed his chest.

“I’m more comfortable than I look,” he said. “Or so I’ve been told. By Natasha. And Maria. And Bruce. Even Thor, one time.”

Well, if that was an okay thing to do then I was going to do it. I felt…probably more excited than I should have, but I figured it was just nice to be so comfortable with another human being. I didn’t know if I ever had felt like this before.

But I played it cool. “Hm,” I said and lay back. He was warm, firm, and yes, surprisingly comfortable. I felt a little thrill of anxiety when he wrapped his arm around my stomach, but it was just for a moment, and then I was able to relax into him. “I can see how people say that.” I felt so good. “You’re pretty cozy.”

“An excellent commendation,” he said. I sighed, perfectly content, and shut my eyes.

I woke up to darkness, with only the light of the TV.

Steve shifted suddenly behind me and I jerked away, ready to apologize, when I saw his eyes were shut tight, and his motions were short and twitchy. He mumbled nonsense but his face furrowed in anguish.

“Steve.” I shook his shoulder. “Steve!”

He didn’t wake up right away. Tears actually started spilling from his eyes and at the sight of that I panicked and shook harder. “Steve!”

His eyes snapped open and he jerked up and grabbed my shoulders. It didn’t hurt but I couldn’t move while he took in his surroundings. He gasped but didn’t say anything, though he did loosen his hands so he could put them to his eyes. I gently wrapped my arms around him while he rode out the shockwaves, and soon enough he put his arms around me. “I got you, Steve; it’s okay,” I whispered and rubbed his back. He clung to me and we sat just like that for a little while, until Steve’s short breathing evened out and he was able to take a deep breath.

Even still, he was reluctant to let go. “You wanna hear a secret?” I asked him, not intending to let him go until he was ready.

“Sure,” he said weakly. But he relaxed and stayed right where he was.

I cleared my throat and admitted, “I think I like hugs.”

He chuckled. “The resident miser? Likes hugs?”

“I know. You can’t tell anyone,” I said. “Also, sorry if I suck at them; I’m not exactly practiced.”

“I think you’re just fine. But I’m not well-practiced either,” he said. He pressed his face into my shoulder and my stomach did a somersault. It felt so good; I wanted to wrap him up in my arms forever and–

Oh.

Oh no.

“Maybe we should practice more.” He pulled away, smiling, but that smile hit me in a different spot. Harder. “Together.”

Fucking hell. “That sounds nice,” I said before Impulse Control could kick me in the face. Because it did sound nice. It sounded so nice it would have made him uncomfortable by how much I loved the idea. I loved the idea.

I loved him.

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#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers & reader #captain america fanfic #avengers fanfic #reader insert #lunch buddy

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