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#ANYWAY.. lol.. Me overthinking things perhaps.. probably not as likely
stinkysam · 6 months
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Vinsmoke Sanji - Oh boy.
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Warning : none
Genre : fluff
Synopsis : "Sanji falling for an ftm „he / they“ reader and feeling conflicted not only because that’s the first time he ever realized he liked a guy but also because he never even FLIRTED with a guy (...) And all in all just being awkward and waaaaay overthinking this just because he’s very much a confused newly discovered bisexual as well as „first time trans ally“ and is trying his best. Extra points: Reader immediatly knows what’s up and is just like „lol. : )“ because he thinks Sanjis awkward fumbling is adorable, before he puts Sanji out of his misery and goes „I like you. Wanna go out on a date sometimes?“" - anon
Reader : male (he/they/you)
A/N : Part TWO
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Sanji likes women.
That's a fact everyone knows.
Or thought they knew.
So you can guess his surprises when he realizes his feelings for you ; a man. Not believing he could think such things with you !
Why is he caring who you're looking at ? Or why does he suddenly care about the way your eyes shine ? Or how you smile and how cute it is ? Why does his heart beat faster each time you compliment his cooking, your hand gently resting on his chest ? You could probably feel the way it was pounding under your palm.
He goes through a small stage of denial. And thinks he's being an asshole because he still sees you as a woman. Which he doesn't but his feelings make him think he's being transphobic and he absolutely hates it.
Because you're a man and he sees you as such. So when he finally realizes he's not transphobic but just bi he relaxes a bit.
And now he's scared. Because what if you don't feel the same ? Right ?
Or worse ? What if you think what he thought ? That he's being a transphobe and still seeing you as a woman ? What if he starts flirting and you see it disrespectful ?
Wait, how does he even flirt with a man ?
He doesn't know how to do it with any man, or with you, for that matter. You don't flirt with a man the same way you flirt with a lady. Right ?
Would you like to be called handsome ? Or perhaps pretty ? Or is pretty too feminine and you'd prefer handsome ? Or maybe you don't mind and like both ? Would you like flowers ? He wouldn't mind receiving them so maybe you wouldn't mind either ?
God, why is it so hard flirting with a man ?
He's really uncertain so he prefers to start with compliments. Your clothing, your hairstyle, your fighting…
He wants to start small in hope you see it as him being serious with you.
When he eventually starts flirting he's still really shy and unsure, fumbling on his words and stuttering.
The sentence he had prepared for you leaves his brain the second he opens his mouth.
But then !? You flirted back ?! You winked at him and invited him for dinner at a restaurant on the island you stopped at ?!
W h a t ! ?
He feels his heart burst in his chest. Just simply exploding. BOOM.
He's at a loss for words as he tries to smile. How does one smile by the way ? He's so happy he forgot. He's so sheepish he almost doesn't answer, giggling a little before finally accepting your offer.
Suddenly he's hoping he didn't read it wrong and you really flirted back.
"No, because, they could've invited me to be nice. Or maybe he also invited the others as well ? What if it's just not us two and I come with flowers like a fool ? I have to ask them. But will I look stupid if I do so ? …" He thought to himself.
"Um, just to make sure we're on the same page, [Name], it's a uh… d-"
"Date, yeah. Tomorrow night." You say with a small smile, slightly proud of yourself as you look into his eyes.
You swear you could see the way the air got stuck in his throat as he stopped breathing.
"Okay." He started, still sheepish. "Good." And with that he turns around and leaves. He doesn't know where he's going but he's definitely going somewhere. He needs a walk to calm down anyway.
Not that the food was bad the other times but you ate extra good this evening. You had plenty of choice and even Luffy didn't know where to start.
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xjackjackx · 2 months
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Alan Becker Analysis: Hazard's Mysteries (Or Maybe I'm Overthinking???)
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Ok so unlike this last post about Victim and Glasses Guy / "Agent", this isn't really me bringing anything solid onto the table (well besides one or two things). This is just me overanalysing random shit that frankly is likely irrelevant.
Anyways this post is about Bathroom Sign Guy aka Hazard aka Warning aka Sign, the gray pictogram mercenary from Animator vs. Animation VI, and why he might have a deeper role (prob doesn't).
Part 1 - The Overthinking of Minor Details
Ok this is the part where I'm 100% convinced I'm just talking stupid shit due to rewatching the episodes too many times, but eh.
Let's start off with something... relatively normal actually, which I saw pointed out by others. When Chosen attacks the mers with lightning, Hazard has this shit happen to him:
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This is... frankly weird and idk what it means. When Wanted first came out, this and his movement made me think Hazard was a robot, but since then I started believing he's just a normal stick figure like the others. Besides, this whole series is on a computer so everyone besides the Animator is an AI lol.
So if he's not a robot, perhaps Hazard is connected to technology, and thus taking away the ship's energy took away his? That's the only other thing I can think of.
The second one was actually told to me by a friend, and tbh even in this whole post this might be the biggest stretch, but I still think this is worth bringing up. When Orange and Chosen return to the Outernet, Hazard is seen looking... somewhere.
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(btw agent looks so stupid here lmfao)
The most likely answer is that he is simply looking around, like Agent and Primal - the cave drawing - are seen doing like immediately afterwards. But my friend did point out that it could easily look like Hazard is looking up - in which case, he could've possibly noticed Chosen and Orange, and then chose to not tell the other mercenaries until Agent notices them and thus forces Haz to intervene. Likely just huge overthinking of a one-off scene, but still.
The last one from Wanted is this shot of the Mercenaries in the elevator.
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In this scene, Hazard briefly looks at Ballista - the pixel gremlin - and then proceeds to look away when the little guy stares back at him. Is it most likely them just finding the awkward elevator silence uncomfortable? Probably yea, but it could also be a sign of Hazard and Ballista having a rocky relationship - we see Ballista is pretty aggressive, so maybe Hazard is nervous around such a batshit crazy dude?
In "The Box", the first Hazard scene worth talking about is the first of his reactions to Victim's torture of Chosen.
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We know he is a mercenary and a villain, so it should be expected that he's a cruel bastard, but still, falling asleep while watching torture is just another level. What kind of shit did Hazard see, or do himself, that he finds Victim's actions purely boring?
...and yet, just a few moments more later, Hazard has an actual reaction to Victim pulling out a lasso.
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Now, the three dots - and thus, Hazard's silence of a reaction - could mean anything. Maybe he's still bored, just awake now. Maybe he's curious to see what will happen. Maybe he has actual standards. But it's still interesting to see that Victim's lasso got a reaction out of Hazard (meanwhile Ballista just crosses his arms, prob in curiosity or impatience, while Primal stays completely still - I'll get to their personalities later).
Similarly, Victim ordering Agent to clone him also gets a small reaction out of Hazard, his head jumping a little (I don't know how else to call it).
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This time, it's definitely just shock/curiosity/surprise that Vic is doing something new, and/or that the Box lets you clone people, but still worth pointing out.
A long time later, we finally get something worthy of note from Hazard, that I actually find interesting. While the other mercs are too busy looking through Chosen's memories, Hazard notices Orange returning.
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I feel like this was actually an intentional choice. Like, why make all the mercs focused on Chosen's memories, excluding only one of them - and it's not even the most important mercenary that's the big bad's right hand? Also, why is Hazard so far away from the other mercenaries? While I consider this whole section of the post just major overthinking, this one moment specifically is actually pretty sus to me.
Now, to close off this section, there is Haz's reaction to Super Orange.
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Mainly, how he and Victim are the only ones who are inarguably scared/panicking. Primal just leans in like "de fuk", Ballista flinches once and then watches in silence, while Agent double checks on both the small and large monitor. Primal and Agent are confused, Ballista is shocked(? idk how to call it), but Hazard and Vic are the only ones with a true "OH SHIT" reaction. What this means? Idk, again this whole section is just overthinking things.
Thankfully we can leave the part where I talk meaningless shit and get into the parts that hopefully actually have a point.
Part 2 - Hazard and His (Lack of) Personality
Another part I noticed since Wanted first dropped (part of the reason why I first thought Haz was a robot) was that, compared to the other mercs, he has so little personality... which might be intentional.
I mean, Agent. He also doesn't showcase a lot of himself, but we still see that he's cool, calm, loyal to Victim, kind of a taunting asshole who plays with his victims instead of instantly getting serious, and despite it all, not unbreakable - He panicked when Chosen attacked him with the iceberg, and he was caught off-guard by Super Orange like everyone else.
Ballista probably has the most personality out of everyone. His body language shows emotion pretty much all the time: most specifically, anger. Whether it's his fighting style, his pose, or walk cycle, Ballista is pissed off 24/7. It's implied it even makes his co-workers nervous. At the same time, the grin he flashes when jumping off the ship in Wanted shows he enjoys his job.
Primal is second only to Hazard in lack of personality, but there's definitely still something there. Mainly, is that he's a very fight-focused person that is basically an empty shell outside it. He's so ready to fuck up a rhino in Wanted, and sharpens his spear for another hunt while bored, but outside of fighting Orange?... he's pretty dull. Only a bit more emotional than Hazard. He seems like a Kraven-type character who just wants to hunt the biggest prey possible, while having zero life outside it. Also he has a Hulk-style form which reduces him to an animal sapience-wise.
Hazard, though? He uhh... he wants to get Chosen, is very focused on completing the job, and that's kinda it. He's such a blank it feels intentional. Perhaps he has his own goals and is hiding them?
Part 3 - He's Either Holding Back or He's Fucking Useless
Yea not gonna sugarcoat this. There has to be some sort of big reveal of Hazard's true power in later episodes, or this dude's so weak it's laughable to think he's supposed to be a threat.
I mean, Agent has a toolbar that makes him a Mini-Animator, and he can pause anything and anyone. Ballista can shapeshift his body and pull weapons out of his ass. Primal has a stronger form that can pick up a rhino without difficulty, and he probably has more.
Hazard?
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He, uh... is good at dodging. He also has this one Shock Sign that killed a bird. Yeah.
Ngl if this is all Hazard has then it's impossible for me to see him as a threat on par with the other mercs, or even Victim. Hell, I wouldn't even be able to see him as above the Stick Gang in strength, with how slow Orange was in that scene compared to his fights in the AvM Shorts.
So yeah, on top of possibly hiding his true personality/hidden motives, Hazard was most likely holding back heavily in Wanted, which only makes him more mysterious.
Part 4 - The End
So, this is kinda it. Was Part 1 all overthinking, or did I get a few things right? Is Hazard actually hiding something, or does he only show little personality because none of his scenes let him show off anything? Is he holding back his true strength, or is he actually weak?
Frankly idk, but I am excited to see where things go with this guy, as he has tons of potential.
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wackybuddiemewbs · 2 years
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Okay, might be just me and shamelessly overthinking this (it probably is... it usually is???). Anyway. I keep going back to this week's episode and my brain goes brrrrrrr.
The point being: Buck and his tendency to keep busy/distracted.
Buck playing around with 'em 'saurs was certified some of the cutest shit to ever grace this show, but it got me thinking. Like, Buck's constantly keeping his hands busy, basically. And to me it felt not just like something very innately Buck to do, but also as a way to keep busy, maybe overplaying some nervousness he may genuinely feel.
In his mind, he seems very clearly focused on Eddie and offering advice and encouragement to look out for himself, but with his body, I just continue to get this vibe that Buck is basically all over the place. And that this is actually more reflective of where he is mentally and emotionally right now. And somehow, the dinosaurs had me think of that all the more because they felt to me like a visual cue to highlight that ambivalence.
To me, one of the recurring themes with Buck is that he'd much rather try to "fix" things for everyone else to keep the people he loves happy and safe. Which is not to say that he's the one exclusively doing it or that he seems to overwork himself physically per se. But. It feels to me like it was a "welcome" distraction (not that he welcomes his friends suffering, but he strikes me as someone who'll much rather jump on that and make it his sole focus than anything else).
He could focus on basically anything but his own feelings and the trauma he hasn't really addressed yet that came from seeing his best friend (love of his life) nearly die from being shot by a sniper. There was Maddie and Chimney, there was his girlfriend and her difficult family history, there's Christopher, and then there's now Eddie foremost. And next he'll have Bobby to worry about, too.
So I'm very curious to see whether that's gonna come to bite him eventually, too. Maybe not this season, but perhaps at a later point next season, when there is no "distraction" anymore. When it's really just him and all those things he basically only mentions in passing or jokes about. When he "deflates" and the pressure is gone, only to maybe realize that the pressure's what kept him upright before.
To me, that'd make for a neat storyline. But that may also be very much related to the fact that I'm huge on Buck whump lol.
Picking up on the mentions in passing and jokes another time... am I the only one who finds it kind of jarring that this seems to be back in full swing? Like, sure, he's always one to crack a joke, but I just keep getting those flashbacks to Buck Begins. When he recounted to the firefam what went on and keeps making "funny" comments whereas everyone else shows a more "matching" emotional reaction (i.e. being sad and shocked and feeling empathy for him).
It's been a habit and coping mechanism for him before, and I'm curious to see if the writers want to pick up on that by having him crack jokes and easy-going comments about his own traumas more frequently.
I mean, Buck recounting during therapy session with Dr. Copeland that they figured he's got trouble sharing his true feelings... it's just constantly on my mind when I see and hear him joking, deflecting, distracting himself from his own problems. So I'm aching to find out whether that's something they'll expand on more in the future. Again, it'd make a very interesting storyline for me personally.
That being said... Buck:
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May you soon find healing (in the arms of your husband-to-be) and let your life be graced with all the 'saurs you want to play with. You earned it.
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ootahime · 3 years
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analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga p2
part 1 is here :3
this post includes more excruciatingly long paragraphs so grab urself something and enjoy LOL
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chapter 40 
i know they’re not interacting in this panel but i still want to bring it up.  i’m gonna give some context to this scene in case someone needs to jog their memory.  so basically, mei’s ability to command crows is what allows the staff to observe the students from afar.  however, gojo notices that there’s lack of footage where yuuji is and asks mei why that’s so.  she tells him that they’re animals at the end of the day so she can’t control what they look at.  he doesn’t believe her so he asks her whose side she’s on (for yuuji’s execution vs against yuuji’s execution) to which she responds with, “whose side?  i’m on the side with money, of course.  there’s no value in something that can’t be bought since you can’t exchange that for money.”  in other words, she’ll always choose the side that offers her more money because she doesn’t care about how morally “correct” or “incorrect” something is.  it’s not worth fighting for a cause that doesn’t benefit her in the long run which is why she views things that are unable to be bought (friendships, relationships, favors) as useless - they can’t be exchanged for money.  it’s clear that gojo knows she’s not on his side because he replies with, “spoken from experience!” or “i wonder how much!” (translation varies).  he says it out loud to perhaps let gakuganji know that he’s onto him.  i find it interesting how utahime is in the panel as well with a “?” to express her confusion at his words.  let’s overthink dissect that.  why is she there in the first place? if the message was to let gakuganji know that gojo is aware of his ulterior motives then a panel with gakuganji and gojo would have sufficed.  why add utahime with a question mark? 
here’s a personal headcanon of mine that makes no absolute sense, but who cares? it makes me happy LOL.  so let’s examine the panel.  gojo’s face is more simplified and cartoonish with a grey background on top and some sort of white bubble surrounding the three characters.  gakuganji is staring at utahime and gojo.  in the official viz translation, he replies to mei with, “i wonder how much!”  
normal and logical explanation: shading the principal by asking out loud how much mei was paid by him to avoid monitoring yuuji.
gojohime brainrot explanation: 
mei: “there’s no value in something that can’t be bought since you can’t exchange that for money”
gojo: (in response) i wonder how much utahime’s love would cost if it did have a price.
utahime: ?
you’re probably thinking i’m delulu (true) BUT HEAR ME OUT.  IT WOULD SOMEWHAT MAKE SENSE IN THIS CONTEXT...
mei’s saying seems to be what she lives by.  relationships, love, friendships, etc. do not matter to her as this is evident when she ultimately abandons everyone in shibuya to escape to malaysia, selling all her stocks before japan’s economy goes down.  she doesn’t care about anyone else.  she even takes advantage of ui ui’s adoration for her.  she contrasts utahime.  utahime is loved by her students.  children, especially teenagers, are picky when it comes to choosing the adults they admire and respect.  while everyone trusts gojo, they do not respect him because of his childishness and overall absurdity.  it’s refreshing to see how they always call him an idiot or have a -_- face when he’s around.  when akutami says everyone absolutely adores utahime-sensei, it says a lot.  we haven’t seen her interact with her students all that much, but she’s obviously close to them because she’s frequently arguing with momo.  even a closed off person like mechamaru wanted to keep her away from danger.  she most certainly expresses a lot of concern and care for her students, and gojo and her students can pick up on this. 
i’ve talked about this in every post LOLOL but there’s a reason why he went to utahime first to help him investigate.  utahime is a loyal person through and through.  she would never do something that harms the students even if she was offered everything in the world.  she values relationships above everything else.  besides her concern for the students, how else was i able to come to this conclusion about her character?  well, she got shoko to stop smoking because she was worried about how it might damage her friend’s health.  from these two details, it’s obvious that she’s the complete opposite of mei.  
maybe that’s why he calls her weak.  she’s too selfless and compassionate in a world where every sorcerer is for themselves.  the world is cruel as a sorcerer.  no matter how hard you try to fight, in the end, you’ll always die alone.  remember his talk with megumi after the baseball game?  after witnessing megumi pull a sacrificial bunt to help his teammates advance, gojo has a talk with megumi about his attitude and potential.  he says that being selfless and caring about others is not a bad thing, but in a world like this, where people always die alone, he is wasting his potential by being concerned with others.  it’s okay to be selfish.  this is why we see fierce independence in a lot of the sorcerers like mei, nanami, and gojo.  they each have their own reasons as to why they work alone, but it’s still a common characteristic.  i feel like utahime doesn’t have a selfish bone in her body.  i speculate that her selflessness is the exact reason why she is being held back.  during her mission to exorcise a grade 1 spirit by herself, the final task before being promoted to grade 1, she likely got distracted trying to help civilians out of danger and failed her mission.  he’s right when he says she doesn’t have the guts to be the traitor, utahime doesn’t have it in her to do something so boldly solely for her own benefit.  
after this long tangent, how does this relate to your headcanon, ootahime?  
as you know, love is not transactional.  you can’t pay someone to love you.  what if gojo is asking himself how much it would cost to buy her love.  hence, her confusion because she is oblivious to what he really means.  it could be probable because gakuganji is observing not only gojo, but utahime as well.  so what gojo says must involve her too, right?  
or she could just be confused because his words seem out of place because she is unaware of what gakuganji is doing behind everyone’s back.  that explanation makes sense for viz’s official translation but it doesn’t make sense when he says, “spoken from experience!” because his words make sense in that context.  he’s basically saying that mei’s beliefs must be based on her past experiences so he understands why she feels this way.  that’s an appropriate response to mei’s statement so i don’t see why utahime would be confused by this.  unless i’m interpreting this whole scene completely wrong.  in that case, whoopsies!  
let me know if you’re confused because i’m willing to clarify.  idk why but i found this really difficult to explain.  maybe because i’m reaching so hard haha
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chapter 40
he finds any way he can to tease her.  they seem like a married couple watching a movie or something.  does he take pride in being the only person she doesn’t get along with?  i mean, she says it herself so he is aware she thinks he’s annoying, but he keeps picking on her anyway.  he doesn’t even pick on his enemies this much LMAOOO i think the only other person he likes to make fun of is gakuganji but he does so because he doesn’t agree with his views.  with utahime it’s different.  he trusts her a lot and even looks out for her.  
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chapter 44
why are there two separate instances of gakuganji observing utahime and gojo’s interactions from afar?  nah i’m just playing.  he’s just looking because he’s concerned she’ll run into the semi-grade 1 curse he had for yuuji.  OKAY BUT I NOTICED SOMETHING KINDA CUTE?  whenever utahime says something suddenly, he always has those 3 little triangles near his head.  it��s like he’s thinking, “oh!  utahime is speaking, i must listen <3″  look at his face too.  he’s looking at her like :O
this is also an example of her showcasing her concern for the students in front of gojo.  i feel like he questions why she’s so caring because if it were him, he would have left the student to figure it out themselves.  i really wonder how she would react if he answered her truthfully when she asked what he’d do if she were the traitor.  
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chapter 45
there’s not much to say here...they’re just cute.  i know it’ll never happen but i’d like to see them fight side by side one day.  i’m aware that gojo works best alone but i just want to see how they’d work together, okay? 😔
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chapter 45
see the little triangles on his head again?  UGH SO CUTE.  
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chapter 45
IS THIS NOT INTENTIONAL???  they share the same thoughts.  he even finished her thought.  mannnnnnnnnnnnn what is akutami doing?  giving us false hope and stripping it away just for fun?  making them work so well together for what??
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chapter 52
cute how he looks out for her.  i have nothing more to say LOL
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chapter 53
notice how they’re sitting across from each other?  HEHE
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chapter 53
yet another instance of her caring for her students in front of gojo.  in the anime she has the cutest expression when she says she’s glad the students are safe.  i bet gojo saw that too.  i also bet that she looks prettier from his point of view.
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extra
from the manga and light novels, gojo and utahime are the ones that talk about sports the most.  he most definitely chose baseball to cheer her up.  it’s not a coincidence people!  
--
i feel like i had a lot more to say but i completely lost my train of thought while writing this, especially with chapter 40. i’m once again writing this at 4 in the morning LOL........  please please please add on or share your thoughts!  thank you for reading and sorry for any mistakes.  
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dumbass-mha-simp · 3 years
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Elliott x GN!Reader
Your New Playlist
Kinda sad? Ig angst but not actually like, bad angst yk.
1k words
Stardew Valley
Warnings: crying, mentally beating yourself over a crush, self-sacrificing but not in a death kinda way, cussing (I think like one f word), Elliott is a theater kid you can't convince me otherwise,
I wanna do a part two, would anyone be interested? I know how much us Elliott simps want fanfiction. I'm probably gonna start on it anyway lol.
Yes I actually made this playlist smh ikik, you don't have to listen to it ofc but his aesthetic really fits my music taste, at least I feel so. I write my fanfiction as gender neutral as I can but if you ever spot any mistakes I'd love to fix it!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Elliott's POV
My feet took me across the path leading to Leah's house. The gentle cotton clouds stretching their wisps across the blue sky, bright enough to blind me as though it were the sun that it surrounds. The gentle new Spring breeze froze my cheeks lightly as my eyes closed to avoid the same chill from the past winter.
Fresh Spring flowers and hidden vegetables encircled her yard as I made my way to knock against the dark wood door that always seemed thunderingly loud.
Leah peaked through the window by her door before I can see her face light up and reach for the door.
"Hey, c'mon in!" She opens the door wider to let me pass through. "How are you doing?"
"If I'm honest, a little troubled." I sigh looking forlornly to the floor.
"Come sit." Leah pulls me to her table and sits in the accompanying seat. "Tell me what you're thinking."
"Leah, what does it feel like to you before you admit you fancy someone?" I look up into her listening eyes before her face changes into slight shock.
"Hmmm." She brings her hand up to her chin as she ponders. "Well, you miss being around them when they're gone. You constantly find ways to connect anything back to them, like `oh they'd love this`, or `I should check up on them.` You care about their opinion more than others and you want to learn about them, even if it's the uninteresting things."
I slide my arms down onto the table, placing my head on top of them. That sounded exactly like what's happening. I had read about it a million times, falling gently in love with a close friend. Perhaps that interest to become friends was always attraction.
"I can't get enough of Y/N." I muffled through my folded arms sighing once again as I turned my head to finally look back up at Leah, the light stinging my eyes.
"Well maybe I could help you with getting more of them?" Leah smirked as she grabbed her phone from her pocket.
I lifted my head slightly panicked. "What are you doing?" I rushed out.
"Relax, I'm not telling Y/N. But they shared something with me. They have a wide music taste yes?"
I had heard some of their music. While they made us lunch, while they partake in their hobbies, when they hum near silently late at night on the beach. I nodded back thinking of how they never seemed to be signing along to a song similar to the others. Unpredictable, and absolutely captivating.
"Well one of their tastes in music is very folk-y and they mentioned how those songs reminded them of you. So they made a playlist of songs that remind themselves of you." Leah said looking down and scrolling through her phone.
They made a playlist about me. They actively want to remember and listen to things that remind themselves of me. I feel I might faint. Was this something that was common among friends? Was this nothing more than an act of kindness? Or something they decided to do on a whim?
"Here give me your phone I'll send it to you." She holds her hand out expectantly.
I quickly go to pull out the hardly used device. I had never had much use for it but if it could bring me any step closer to Y/N I wouldn't hesitate to learn.
Leah downloaded a music app, laughing at how I had no applications. Before leaving it opened on the playlist. "The Lonely, Ocean-Accompanied, Writer." It read. I reread it a couple times to convince myself it was real. A lovely name, but is that how they see me?
"Chill out, Romeo." Leah giggled. "I can practically see you overthinking everything. Just relax and listen to the songs, maybe they'll tell you something."
I wrapped my arms around her neck, hugging her closely before leaving to listen to the playlist.
~~~
As I shut the door behind me I pressed my back against it. I've never felt so scattered before. I looked for the volume button, turning it up before hitting play.
The songs, quiet but emotional. As though you had just lie down on the grass to cry or relieve tension or reminisce. They felt like a memory I had trouble recalling.
The songs seemed to renew me, before I heard one I distinctly remembered hearing before. From high-school theater club, a time in my life that was fond to me. I do remember Y/N telling me they loved musicals, hearing them hum along to Heathers while I wrote.
A song unlike most others on this list.
"When He Sees Me" from Waitress.
~~~
Y/N's POV
"Oh, Yoba. What if when he sees me, I like him and he knows it? What if he opens up a door, And I can't close it?" I belted out the lyrics as loud as I wanted, the tears streaming down my face unwavering.
The good side to owning your own farm is you could scream along to your songs without people to complain. You had been replaying this part of the song for awhile now. He was all you could seem to think about.
Your head was swarmed with thoughts of Elliott. Some where he reciprocated your feelings and others where he shut you out. Every time you built a daydream where he loved you unconditionally you trampled it with the thoughts of his rejection.
You brought your knees up to your chest, resting your head between them as you cried.
~~~
Elliott's POV
We had had conversations about musicals, perhaps that's why they chose this song? Maybe they thought since my school had a play of Waitress that it'd fit. But I know they liked other Waitress songs, why weren't those added? Only this one.
After that song came another, "I Hear A Symphony" one I've never heard. As the song started all I could see was Y/N. I could hear them singing along, their smile, their eyes averting to mine for the thousandth time.
Y/N was my symphony.
The powerful, breathtaking ocean couldn't compare to the awkward farmer that ran across town just to give me their best sweet pea flowers and be the first thing I saw as I left my quaint cabin.
They brought the motivation and inspiration for 8 hour writing sessions, they brought me food when they knew I'd forgotten to eat between writing the book and planning on what to write next.
They were something I could never dream of losing. I wished to live the rest of my life with their support.
If telling them my feelings means I'd lose them, then I couldn't dream of making such a selfish decision.
~~~
Y/N's POV
I trudged my way into town. After last night's crying session my eyes still felt a bit dry, if I'm honest I cried when I woke up as well. The loneliness felt suffocating in such a lonely little house. But I needed some new seeds. The stone path drawing all my attention as I walked.
As I walked into Pierre's it wasn't hard to tell that people could see something was off. After buying my seeds I felt a hand on my shoulder, turning around to find Elliott.
"Y/N are you feeling alright? You look as though you've been distressed lately." You motion to him to follow you and walks out of the store behind you.
You take a deep breath as you start to tear up a bit more. He reaches for your face as he lifts it up, looking at the pooling tears.
So many things, the things you could have said. But they didn't come up. Instead a vision of his face of discomfort at your confession. You couldn't bear it. You couldn't tell him.
"I've just been stressed. I'm sorry for worrying you, Elliott." You sigh, attempting to put up a fake smile as you wipe your eyes. He retracts his hand as he looks guilty. Fuck does he feel like it's his fault?
"Well I'm willing to listen to your troubles if you ever need." He also puts on a strained smile as you both part ways.
"This is for the best." They both whisper as they leave.
166 notes · View notes
binniesthighs · 3 years
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1-800-Be-Mine | reader x minho | sfw
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happy valentines day!! this lil fic of mine is something very new and different from what I’ve tried before and I’m so so excited to share it with you!!
Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x lee minho
Genre: fluff, sci-fi, futuristic au, valentines day special! 
Tags: strangers to lovers, sci-fi au, futuristic au, blind date au, AI au with a twist, mentions of food and alcohol, featuring hyunjin, tiny heart-shaped confetti of comedy and rebelling against the man lol, fluffy growing feelings 
Warnings: Minho’s character in this is an adorable, charming, feeling, AI robot. haha idk if this is a warning but it might not be everyone’s cup o’ tea, if so, that’s why I’m mentioning it :) 
Tagging: @stayhavens​ thank you for allowing me to be a part of this event ❤️
Word count: 7.1k 
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“If it’s the color of your shirt that you’re worried about, I don’t think that he’s gonna care.” 
“--I can’t believe that you’re putting me through this. I didn’t even ask for...whatever the hell this all is.” 
“You’re getting worked up over nothing, Y/n. This whole thing is literally the lowest commitment thing that you could ever do on Valentines Day.” 
For the twentieth time, you held up the shirt and hanger over your torso in front of you streak-stained mirror. It shouldn’t have mattered much, or even at all, but here you were, wondering what color a synthetic human would like on your body the most. 
With feet in the air, your best friend swung his feet with pointed toes and eyes glued to his phone. 
“Quit looking at me like that.” Hyunjin didn’t even need to rise his head up to feel your glare. “He’s programmed to forget about you the second that your time runs out, so, I really don’t know why you’re wasting your time over this.” 
One more time, you switched the creamy white satin for the wine-red velvet. 
“God, this is so depressing.” The shirt hangers clinked together where you threw them down on your bed. “It’s all your fault too.” 
“I can’t see why you aren’t excited for this!! I literally made it so he’s perfect for you. There’s like, a 0% chance that this is gonna go badly. You could spit escargot into his lap or get his tie stuck in the car door and he’d still think that you’re the best thing ever. You can do no wrong.” 
“That’s the point...” 
The floor started to look a lot more appealing in your despair. If you were making a dramatic show for yourself or for you friend, you had no idea, but somehow it felt a little better letting your body sliiide down the side of the wall into a little pool of half-done make-up and hair still damp.  
“Stop throwing a tantrum.” Hyunjin scolded. “You have to be there in 45 minutes.” 
“What if I...just don’t show up?” 
“Then, you’d be robbing me of $360 and the most expensive gift that I’ve ever gotten for you. And, you’d break my heart. I don’t wanna be heartbroken on Valentines Day. I’d hate you forever.” 
“Nooooo you wouldn’t.” You tossed your forehead into the palms of your hands. 
“I’d hate you for a month probably.” 
“Don’t you have somewhere that you need to be?” As expected, your hands were smudged a bit from the tiny dusting of eyeshadow that you had added to your lids. 
“I told you already, she doesn’t get off until 8 so I’ve still got time. Besides, I already set everything up back at the apartment. I’m in no rush.” At last, your friend cast aside his phone on the mattress with a bounce. “Get up. I’ll help you. You should still look nice anyway...even if he doesn’t care. This night is about you anyway.” 
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Is satin supposed to feel scratchy...? What? Satin being itchy? ...You must be going crazy if you think-- 
“--Annnd we’re here!” 
The wheels of Hyunjin’s less than glamourous car skidded in front of the hotel with an obvious screech. He was never one for being a good driver anyway. With the pull of his hand through is blond hair he nodded his head for you to open your door. 
“Time’s ticking. It’s nearly 7.” 
“--Jin--” 
“I’m not explaining it again. Just go do the damn thing. You’re overthinking it. Like you do with everything...” 
Your best friend rolled his eyes which were blue today: a part of his own Valentines Day outfit: that of which he looked much better than you thought you had. He had slung his arm over his steering wheel looking on, and even more impatient with you by the second. 
“Is it a fucking crime to be nervous??” 
Hyunjin laughed out sharply. “You’re so cute. ~Especially when there isn’t anything to worry about.~” 
You flicked him hard on his perfect arm covered by his perfectly planned and billowy white top. 
“Would you like to go out there and meet him if it’s so easy?” 
After a subsequent eye roll, your friend reached his long arm to pop open the car door on your side. “You’re not going to make me drag you, are you?” 
“I can get it myself.” You growled, shoving his hand away. 
The February air was crisp, and just cold enough for your breath to appear lightly in front of your face. Immediately, you started to regret everything: the itchy satin shirt (which you guessed probably wasn’t satin) the stiffness of your styled hair, and the way that your feet felt in the pair of shoes that you had broken out just for the occasion. You had even put perfume on; something that a “strictly deodorant” person as yourself found to be suffocating and odd. 
Do Mirrors even have a sense of smell? 
On the busy street, cars whipped past with headlights of yellow and red, and the bustle of the holiday evening buzzed on the sidewalk with couples marching down the way arm and arm and hand in hand. The energy of the evening seemed vibrant almost as if the whole world seemed to be slightly more awake. The plastic heels of ladies in their best shoes clicked past. 
“Good luck!” 
Hyunjin mustered up the most genuine smile that you thought possible for him to craft considering it wasn’t genuine in the slightest. 
“Text me about it tonight--or--actually, not tonight, I’ll be...” He obviously winked, “...busy tonight.”  
“You’re disgusting!!” 
You slammed the car door in Hyunjin’s snide smirk while he laughed out a “Love you!” before speeding away without a care. 
The remnants of old snow caked up in the corners of the hotel where Hyunjin had arranged the date. The hotel itself was very old fashioned looking, almost like it had come right out of one of those old movies he would tease you for liking--it was probably why he had chosen it, you thought to yourself. There was a large golden marquee with a strand of lightbulbs tracing the edge all around it much like an old-timey theater, which gave the name for the hotel. At the doorway made of the same golden hue, there were attentive bellhops in matching blue velvet uniforms and leather gloves that they blew in to to keep their hands warm. 
When you thought more of it, the night was a bit colder than expected, so you pulled your coat closer to your body. Hyunjin had suggested that you wear your pea coat, however it’s warmth factor wasn’t something to write home about. He had something about how it had made your arms look good...as if he would care anything like what your arms looked like. 
You pulled out your phone with your cold fingers to find the information that Hyunjin had sent you. 
Name: Lee Minho 
Model: Generation Four 
Specifications: Personalized 
Service time: 7pm-12am 
Instructions: Meet at the front entrance of the the hotel The Grand at exactly 7pm where the Mirror will be waiting. Mirror will look like: [see image] 
You hovered your hand over the little see image tab. Before, you had decided that you didn’t want to see the picture, and rather leave it as a surprise. That was the thrill of a blind date, right? For a moment, you rationalized it as peeking so that you knew what he looked like so you could find him. You hovered, and hovered... 
“No, I shouldn’t...” You whispered out to the open air while you shoved your phone back into your pocket. 
“Excuse me?” One of those attentive bellhops had snuck behind you and rose a caring hand to your shoulder: an action which made you jump. “Is there anything that I can help you with? Are you waiting for someone?” 
“Oh.” You straightened yourself. “Yes, I am waiting for someone. They’ll be here really--” 
“--Is it me that you’re waiting for?” 
He had strolled right up to you, and you could barely form the words on your mouth to say “yes.” You had heard the stories about Mirrors before, but as far as you had known, this was your first time ever seeing one this close...and you wouldn’t have even known that he was any different from the flesh and bones that you knew you had. 
He was devastatingly handsome; the kind of handsome that models were. Every single one of his features seemed to be carefully planned and calculated down to the little freckle on his nostril and his nose bridge of a perfect angle. Even his physical proportions seemed to be perfect: his arm muscles curved in wonderful angles under his black suit jacket that had one button at the front. He was dressed simply: merely a black tux with a white button up underneath and a deep navy blue tie. His chocolate brown eyes were a bit unique, looking even slightly cat-like. 
Not like you had a type, but if you were to have one, he definitely would have been it. 
He smiled upon seeing you, and coolly adjusted his silver cufflinks which you noticed had an insignia on them that looked a familiar: it was that picture of the eye with the spokes around it, the symbol of 3rdEyeCorp. As expected, everything in life seemed to come with a branding: even synthetic humans. 
“Should we go inside?” 
His voice was gentle and soothing, the kind of voice that you knew could lull you to sleep or convince you to do things that you wouldn’t want to. It was a voice that could put you at ease, and you wondered if that was intentional. Perhaps Hyunjin had told them that at times you could be neurotic. 
You finally squeaked out a, “Yes.” then followed him towards the soft glow of the magnificent building. He had slipped over past you to open the door, letting you enter first. 
“Oh...thanks...” 
As you passed him, you could have sworn that he smelled like some kind of citrus scent. In fact, you didn’t know that he could even have a smell. This was but one of the many questions that had been plaguing you for the past couple weeks since learning of Hyunjin’s plan. 
It wasn’t that he smelled like a person: that kind of earthy scene mixed up with the lingering scent of shampoo on hair, or a bit of mint holding to the corners of your mouth after you had brushed your teeth right before you exited the door. Still, you didn’t mind the citrus, it was better than nothing at all, you assumed. 
He walked up to the maître d with perfect posture, and it was then when you noticed that you were slightly shorter that he was. His suit was pressed, and a line ran down the back directly over his spine. 
“2 for L/n?” He said properly, and it felt strange hearing your last name come from his mouth. 
“Right this way.” 
He looked back at you, almost as if to see if you were doing okay. He held a little glint in his eyes that looked careful, caring even. From the very few words that he had said to you, he still maintained a composure about him that was...human. He was comfortable. 
The three of you reached the table with the ironed white table cloth, small bouquet of red roses and two flickering tea candles. The lighting of the room was dim as all restaurants such as this were, and there was a light hum about the room coupled with the occasional clink of silverware on China. There was a fireplace to the corner of the room, and the dense smell of expensive wine hung in the air. 
The maître d placed down the menus. “Your server will be with you shortly.”
You thought the small action a bit comical. You were the only one who knew his secret. Still, he nodded with a polite smile. “Thank you.” 
The satin fabric on your shirt scraped at your bare chest, and you attempted your slyest attempt at making a tiny itch look nonchalant. He picked up the menu with a few of his brown strands dipping over his eyes. You studied him as he looked it over, not having a clue why. You thought that you had heard somewhere that his kind couldn’t eat. Perhaps he was a new model. 
“I’m sorry. I haven’t formally introduced myself yet.” He put the menu down with a little embarrassed smile. “I must’ve forgotten. I’m Lee Minho.” 
“I know.” Your cheeks felt hot. “Uh-and I’m Y/n. But--you probably knew that too.” 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Smile lines crinkled under his eyes. It was the first imperfection you could find about him. 
“Yo-you too.” 
Minho reached out a slender and pale hand for you to shake and you stared it in a moment of fear. You had never touched a Mirror before, much less wondered what they felt like. 
“I don’t bite.” He chuckled out a small laugh that was much too cute for his own good. His shoulders then appeared to relax and he allowed himself to slouch. “At least, my model doesn’t.” 
You choked out an ugly chortle at the joke. “Ah. I see.” 
“You don’t have to be scared of me. I promise that I feel like anyone else.”
You took it, jumping a little at the sensation. He was warm--not exactly like you expected him to be cold and metallic however. The skin of his hand was cracked and grooved as normal, and it was squishy as if you could feel the muscles that would be underneath. 
With a warm grin, he soothed you saying, “See?” 
‘Oh...mmhm.” You shook his hand firmly. “Holy shit that's really creepy.” You muttered the words as softly as you thought you could have. 
“Creepy?” He laughed out again. “Should I be offended? No one has ever called me creepy before.” 
“Oh! Um, s-sorry, I didn’t mean--” 
“--It’s okay! I was just kidding. I completely understand. Especially if this is your first time meeting someone like me. It is your first time?” 
You nodded drawing your hand back with the warmth from his hand still lingering on yours. 
“Let me know if there is anything that I can do to make you more comfortable. Seems like...we’re meant to be too.” 
“--Meant to be?” You nearly dropped your cloth napkin to the ground. 
“I mean, based off of your profile, they thought that I would be best suited for you. And you know...the programming and all that.” 
“Oh! I guess so...” 
Next, you thought it best to busy yourself with that glass of water that was looking very oddly refreshing. 
“I meant to tell you as well that you look very nice. I think that color suits you very well.” 
Drops of water got caught in your throat, “T-AHEM-this?” You pinched at the fabric. 
Minho’s eyes widened at your sputtering coughs, signaling to a waiter to come fill your glass once more. 
“Sorry, was I not supposed to say that?” 
“No! No no, it’s...you’re fine. I was just a little surprised.” 
“Surprised? Why?” 
“I just didn’t think that you would...nevermind.” 
Even though you had nearly choked yourself seconds ago, up went your water glass to your lips once more. 
Minho fidgeted with his bangs with his pinky finger: a surprisingly vain little task. Under the dull lighting of the whole room, he did look very handsome; almost much too handsome to be in such a place with you. All at once, you became suddenly aware of the irregular patterns of those eyes peeking at you from their own tables with haughty and whispering words on their lips. 
“You look...very nice as well.” 
“Mm thank you.” As charming as ever, he gave a smile back. “This is my first time wearing this. I actually picked it out myself. I thought that you would like the color.” His pale fingers ran down the silk indigo tie. 
“You thought about it too??” 
“Thought about what?” 
A snide smile crept over your mouth. Hyunjin could eat his words. 
“Well do you? Like it?” A curious little smearing of worry painted Minho’s brow that was once again must too cute for his own good. 
“I-I do like it.” 
In all honesty, Minho would have looked good in anything, you thought, no matter how ridiculous. Under the thin white cotton of his shirt, you could see his toned pectorals as well. One pinch to the side of your leg was just enough to scold yourself. 
He looked around himself in a bit of a silent wonder: from the rafters of the high ceilings painted in gold leaf, to the speakeasy on the far edge of the room with the posh looking bartender.  
“I always thought that places like this were kind of stuffy.” He wrinkled his nose. 
“You...what?” 
“There's always someone at one table wondering if they look better, rank higher, or are more successful than the person at the other. Don’t you think the same?” 
“I mean...I think they do keep looking us?” 
“Ah. I noticed that too.” 
Minho looked around himself carefully, then leaned in closer towards you. “Do you think that they know that I’m...you know?” 
You snorted out a laugh covered by your hand. “What? No? How could they?” 
“A hunch.” 
“Can you even get hunches?” 
“I may be a robot, but I can still read a room.” 
You hushed him, “Shhhh! Say that any louder and then they’ll really know.” 
A waiter in a black apron sauntered up to your table with a thin moustache and a big of a sagging face. He looked a bit less like a real waiter and more like a cartoon one. 
“Good evening. Have you finished looking over the menus? Perhaps a bottle of wine to start you off? We have a new house merlot that I would highly  recommend.” He reached a spiny finger to point at the name on your menu. “It would pair particularly well with our specials tonight. Seeing as it is Valentines day--” 
The droning of the waiter continued on, and you had noticed that Minho wasn’t paying any attention at all. Rather, he had settled his gaze on the flickering of the candles, and the yellow light sparked in his pupils. For mere seconds, you could see something a bit different about them: a extremely thin circle of blue-white light around his irises.  
The waiter pulled out his pad with an expectant gaze. 
“Uh-yeah, I-I’ll take that. That--whatever-you-just-mentioned.” 
He appeared puzzled. “You wish to start with the special orange Crème Brule first?” 
“Ah-no! Sorry, can you..” You cringed, “Repeat what you just said?” 
He rolled his eyes, but did respectfully as he was told while you sunk further into your chair with Minho’s teasing smirk. This time you listened to the specials, even though you decided you didn’t even want one, but rather picked one of the cheapest items on the menu. That was one of the drawbacks of paying for your date: he had no obligation to pay for your meal. 
The waiter looked even more puzzled when Minho said he wasn’t ordering anything, but shrugged, burying his pad back into his pocket saying, “I’ll be over with the wine shortly.” 
“Do you want to know something?” Minho leaned back in once the waiter was out of an earshot. 
You treated yourself to yet another sip of your emptying glass, and nodded. 
“There’s at least four others like me in here.” 
“Four? How can you know?” 
“I think I’d know my own kind when I saw them.” 
“I would never be able to tell.” 
The waiter returned, showing the label to the wine to both of you before popping it open and pouring it into glasses with the twist of his wrist. Two drops from the crimson top stained the little napkin he used. 
Minho’s hands toyed with the stem of the glass, but didn’t take a sip. 
“That’s why they call us Mirrors.” 
“How do you mean?” 
“Because you’re supposed to see yourselves in us.” 
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Your body had started to warm with the energy of the room after long, and your appetizer of escargot had arrived. Oddly, since Hyunjin had mentioned it before, it embedded in you an odd craving that you couldn’t satisfy until you had some. By now, you had realized that Minho likely wouldn’t have been eating with you, but it was strange: even the other Mirrors in the room appeared to be. 
“I’m assuming that you can’t eat then?” You popped the buttery taste into your mouth.  
“Yes. It doesn’t make sense for my...biology. If you can call it that. I can’t digest food nor do I have the mechanisms to do so.” 
“Maybe we should have done something that didn’t include food then.” 
“I do have something though! I know that eating alone like this can be uncomfortable.” 
He grabbed inside his inside suit pocket and pulled out a wallet: thin and black leather. It had almost nothing in it save for what looked like a iridescent square. Over top of it was the same logo on his cufflinks. He flipped it around his fingers like a playing card. 
“What is it?” 
“My dinner.” He sated matter-of-factly. 
“You’re gonna...eat that? Maybe you shouldn’t--”
He placed it neatly in front of himself, pressing the surface and it morphed into some kind of three dimensional polygon shape of pixels, both large and small, until it settled into a perfect copy of your dish that you had sitting in front of you. 
“It’s holographic.” 
“Of course it is.” 
“Newest in tech at 3rdEye. This is my first time using one. They thought it would be a good idea to send the prototypes out with the Mirrors tonight for the beta test. What do you think?” 
“It’s very...realistic.” 
“It’s pocket sized, and it can really transform into anything that you could want, but of course...its still not really solid. Perfect for me though.” 
He took a bite of his escargot with an equally holographic fork. 
“I imagine that it tastes very good.” 
“You can’t taste things?” 
“Unfortunately, no. Since I don’t need to eat, don’t know why I would need to. I’ve got all the other senses though.” 
The house merlot was bitter on your tongue and full bodied. You couldn’t imagine what your life would have been like without taste. He chewed on, and somehow the action really did seem comforting. 
“You’re very um, open about yourself. You know...talking about yourself so bluntly. I feel like some people when they do these things, they just want to keep on that suspension of disbelief as long as they can; pretending that you're--” 
“--A real person?” 
You hadn’t intended on it coming off as insulting, and a “sorry” formed on your lips. 
“--I’m not offended. And, you’re right. Most people do. But, I could sense that you were different. I don’t have a problem telling you about me. Something told me that you would like to know.” 
“Something?” 
“Enough about me though, lets talk about you. You’re a doctor aren’t you?” 
“-For animals. Nothing too crazy. I’m working up my way to have my own practice some day. For now, I’m just doing nurse type stuff. Giving immunizations, checking teeth and stuff like that.” 
“I read your thesis. The one from your pre-vet. I thought that your research was very interesting. How come you didn’t continue on with animal behavior?” 
His string of questions made you crack out into laughter. Never had anyone you had ever dated said that they had read up on you. 
“I can’t believe that you just said that.” 
“What? I had assumed that you might want to talk about something that interests you like that.” 
“That was...so long ago, I don’t even think about that paper anymore.” 
Minho took some of his wine down with a polite dab of his napkin to his lips. 
“How about hiking then? Or those Frank Capra movies that you like? Which one is your favorite?” 
“Stop, stop. This is--” 
His eyes widened. “Did I misspeak again? Your friend said that it would be okay if we did the proper research--” 
“--Just...sorry, it’s strange that you know everything about me already and we’ve hardly just met.” 
“I’m not following.” 
“Can you just...forget like, everything you know about me for a minute? This is supposed to be a blind date isn’t it?” 
“I can do that.” Minho tightened his tie. 
“How about we talk about something else?” 
Minho nodded in agreement with a determined tiny grin. “I can tell you about what I do?” 
“You have a job?” 
Your prompt waiter appeared with a giant silver platter which glinted in the light of the numerous dancing candles around it. The ceramic plates clinked into the glasses assorted on the table, and he lastly offered out freshly grated parmesan for your pasta. You said “when” and he was just as quickly out of your way, but not after granting the both of you one more questioning glare. 
“Yes.” 
Your date flipped over his holographic square, and soon it transformed into another spitting image of your meal. 
“I’m supposed to tell you that I’m a college professor of ornithology but since we’re being blunt here, my job is working for 3rdEye, and doing basically whatever they ask of me. Including this. And actually...” He twisted a string of noodles around his fork. “...I think that it’s going pretty well.” 
A quick giggle erupted out from you. “I’m glad that we’re being honest because you do not look like someone who teaches twenty somethings about birds.” 
“But if I had said I did, would that have made you like me more?” 
“Maybe. I’m sure that they picked that because I did graduate research on migration and flight patterns.” 
“Likely.” 
“Maybe I should have stuck with animal behavior. Then we would have had more to talk about.” 
A silence filled the space between you as you tried your best to eat your pasta with as much grace as you could. Of course, you were still one to get it on your lap and the table cloth, but luckily you had a napkin to protect you. Your date on the other hand, ate as if he was eating with the queen herself. For several moments, you really did allow yourself those brief moments of ignorance: you really were just two people, sitting in a fancy restaurant on Valentines Day, eating a meal together, on a date, as an normal two people would do. Every few moments too, he would look at you with a type of gentle adoration in his eyes too. 
And it felt nice. 
It really was as effortless as Hyunjin had said. You would be eating your words on this one. 
At last, you had scraped out the last chunks of tomato and vegetable bites from your shallow dish, and you sat back which a sense of drowsiness clinging to your eyes. Over time, you had slumped deeper and deeper into your chair as you felt your body warm with the fireplace. You didn’t mean to look, but your watch had read just past 9 o’clock. 
“That all tasted good.” Minho sighed, and slumped along with you. 
“I thought you couldn’t taste?” 
“Ah. You’re right. Well, I enjoyed eating that with you. Did it taste good?” 
“It did.” 
“Should we get some of that orange Crème Brule from earlier?” 
You folded up your napkin on the table. “You mean should I get some of that Crème Brule? I’m the one paying here remember?” 
“Are you?” 
With the stretch of your arms, you answered, “Not today. I don’t have that doctor’s pay...yet.” 
“But shouldn’t you eat something sweet on Valentines Day? Isn’t that also what its about?” 
You laughed, “I don’t know where you heard that, but no, it doesn’t.” 
“Ah, I see. My understanding of the holiday is very jumbled. Holidays are like that for us. The sort of emotional attachment to them is hard for us to understand. I’ve watched millions of hours of films to understand them...but--” 
“--Millions?” 
“Yes?” 
“That’s…insane.” 
“Not for me.” He said with a happy little grin. “Should we be leaving?” 
In one motion, he swept up his shirt sleeve, just over his wrist where you had expected him to have a watch. Instead, a faint blue glow emerged on his skin making letters and numbers that you couldn’t read as well from upside down. 
“Hm. 3 more hours. What else would you like to do with our time together?” 
»»————- ♡ ————-««
The winter cold bit at your ears while the two of you walked together down the busy urban stretch. Even later into the night the giddy excitement of friends ambling down the streets and couples linking to eachother with tipsy happiness could still be found everywhere. You barely knew him, but you still felt in some way compelled to reach out and interlock your arm with his as those other couples did. You had a half a mind to reach out to him, but another half a mind to keep your arms wrapped around yourself. 
But, as if he had read your mind, he reached out his hand behind him to quietly slip your arm into his. 
“Put your hands in your pockets.” He asked, and you did so. “I figured that you must be cold, so...my body heats itself too, makes me more...you know.” 
He was warm. Much warmer than your entire body felt had felt then, but still you noted that the tips of his ears and nose had turned pink. 
“Where to?” He questioned next. 
“I-I’m not sure. I didn’t think this far.” 
“I could pick?” 
“You know where to go?” 
He was silent for a moment, then nodded. “There’s a place that I wouldn’t mind going to. Do you know how to skate?” 
“Ice...skate?” 
He huffed out with a tiny smile, and you noticed that when he did, no visible molecules could be seen in front of his face. 
“Do you? I can pick something else? It’s not everyone’s skill.” 
“N-no. I can do it.” 
You don’t know why you had said it: perhaps you felt as if you had something to prove to this inhuman person, or you really did want to go there with him, no matter where it was. 
You had never learned how to skate in your life. 
»»————- ♡ ————-««
The ice rink was lined with pink and white string lights: likely a Valentines Day decoration. Plastic hearts made of fuzzy tinsel also decorated the edges of the rink and sparkled under the lights. It had been built into the center of a public park, and bodies huddled in winter coats sat together on the benches to the side, waving at those they knew when they slipped past. Tinny music played over the outdoor speakers: it was some pop song that you had heard before, but didn’t know the name of. 
Minho laced up your skates for you, and even then you noticed that his knuckles had turned pink too. 
“Are you...cold?” 
“Oh! This?” He turned his hands around. “No, I’m not. it’s just another one of my humanisms.” 
“Humanisms?” 
“Something to make me look more like you. When it’s cold outside my body senses it and does this.” 
“I see.” 
Even if you knew that he couldn’t possibly feel things in the same why, he was damn convincing--and you couldn’t help but think it was unbearably cute as well. 
“Done! You ready? You can take my hand if you want?” 
You stood wobbly as a deer taking its first steps. Walking on the blades was much more difficult than you would have guessed. He didn’t need to ask twice for you to grab hold. 
“I’m assuming that you know how to do this?” 
“There’s a lot of things that I know how to do.” He winked. 
The second that your feet met the ice, you felt your heart start beating into overdrive with your anxiety of falling. Over the ice, it too felt colder, and that didn’t help much either. With one hand you clawed to the side of the rink, and the other dug into Minho’s arm. 
“I thought that you said that you knew how to skate?” 
“I lied. I’m gonna fall on my fricking face and its gonna be the most embarrassing thing ever. Worse than spitting escargot into your lap.” 
“Spitting escargot? What?” 
“Just--can you help me?” 
He tittered with an adorably warm laugh and grabbed back at you firmly. “I won’t let go.” 
Even the toddlers in their little training bumpers were more skilled than you. Minho was patient, and coached you through the skills of the left and right motions of your feet and getting into a rhythm. You still flapped your arms around wildly like a wobbly penguin, but he was eventually able to coax you away from the wall.
“See! You’re getting the hang of it!” 
“Really?” 
Minho nodded profusely, letting go of both of your hands to hold just one. “Stop looking at your feet and just look at me. You’ll trip yourself up focusing so hard.” 
Other couples whipped past you, and you thought it best not to look at how easy it was for them. 
“I-I think that I’m doing it!” 
Minho’s eyes lit seeing you start to swing your feet back and forth. In that pink lighting of the rink, you could see that thin ring of light around his eyes once more. Even though it was unnatural, you still thought that it looked beautiful. 
“WATCH OUT!!” Came a distant voice from behind you. 
Before you had a second to turn around, a fuzzy blur came barreling into you. Two small bodies: a couple middle school boys chasing each other, came colliding with your teetering body, forcing you to fall to the hard ice with a terrible thud. 
“Oh my God! Are you okay?” One of their pre-pubescent voices cracked. 
“I-I’m fine...I think.” 
Your air had been knocked right out of your lungs and your butt ached with a sharp pain that you hoped you wouldn’t be feeling for days. Both of your hands were wet with ice from the contact. Minho quickly offered you his hand up.
“-You okay?” He brushed ice off of your coat. 
Truthfully, you were horribly shaken, and your chest shook, but you lied once more. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.” 
“No you’re not.” His worried eyes studied you. “Lets get you something warm to drink okay?” 
»»————- ♡ ————-««
“One hot chocolate please.” 
Minho fiddled with his wallet, picking out that same iridescent square from before. As soon as his fingers touched it, it glimmered into a credit card. 
“It can do that?” You had uttered, but he gave you back a cautious glare. 
The man at the little coffee stand took it without question, and somehow, it worked. 
“$3.15″ He monotoned, and gave the card back. 
The white Styrofoam cup warmed your hands instantly, and the chocolatey steam delighted your nostrils. 
“Thank you. You didn’t have to.” 
“It’s no problem. I wanted to.” 
You took a sip, but a strange silence befell over your date, and he furrowed his brows. 
Under his breath, he repeated the word “...wanted?” 
The further that you walked along the river together, the less that you wanted to take another look at your watch where it peaked out from your coat sleeve. You imagined that it must have been nearing almost 10:30--optimistically. Instead, you took long and purposeful sips of of your drink and indulged in the way that the heat would seep down from your throat and all the way down your body. 
Onward, one of the great and massive bridges of the city blinked with an array of multicolored lights: some from cars, others from the way that it was decorated to look a bit like shining stars. Under the lights, the navy-black of the river reflected the fractals of light. The walkway was nearly empty of people except for the odd couple sitting and cuddled up by the edge of the water. The water should have been frozen, but it didn’t appear to be giving up just yet. 
Your companion had drawn quiet with eyes cast down to his walking feet. You had half a mind to reach out to him... 
“Is there anything you would like to do?” Your question filled the quiet, but you didn’t expect him to stop in his steps upon hearing it. 
“Are you asking me if there is anything that I want do to?” 
“Yes...?” 
Minho was again quiet, then turned to look at the vast expanse of the cityscape in front of you both. 
Suddenly, he began, “Valentines Day is a holiday that has to do with loving, doesn’t it?” 
You stammered at the question in your confusion, but still answered. “Yes.” 
“You express love on the holiday? You show people that you love them, and that you care for them. Right?” 
“I think so...but why are--” 
“--What do you think that it means to love something?” 
Distantly, cars honked, and music boomed out from drawn down windows, and it floated in the evening air. 
For you, loving was something that was second nature. It was little bits of happiness, fuzzy feelings, but it also ached, and felt like being lost. How could you possibly begin to describe what it meant? 
Minho’s eyes were full of intrigue and even maybe a twinge of desperation. Could Mirrors even hold such a thing in their eyes? 
“I-I’m not sure how to cover it all, but, I guess that I could say that loving something, or someone, is to want them. You want to be around them, you want to see them laugh or smile, you want to make them feel that you care. I don’t think that it is much more complicated than that. 
The man appeared even more confused, almost like he had been computing his own mental calculations right before his very eyes. Then, all at once, his eyes softened. 
“If loving something is to want it; to have desire, desiring is the first step? Love must be simplier than I thought that it was, and maybe...I think that I can do it.” 
“What are you talking about?” 
Minho swept up his hands in yours after casting aside the cup to the ground. 
“You asked me if I wanted to do something. But the thing is...I don’t think I’ve ever wanted do to anything ever before in my life. It was just, what others wanted of me and what I colud do for them. Not me.” 
Realization swept over Minho piece by piece, and soon it all unfolded for you too. 
He drew your arms and hands around the back of his neck to pull your body closer to his. 
You might’ve looked before, but his lips looked soft and unbelievably sweet: like melting snowflakes, whipped cream, or the fuzzy flesh of peaches. 
“I do want something.” He said at last. 
“Minho...what are you saying?” 
“I-I can’t tell if what it is that I’m feeling is some kind of algorithm, or I’m just...you’re so...different.” 
“I hope that you’re not just saying this all--” 
“--I’m not! I’m not. I promise...an-and Mirrors can’t lie.” He laughed out. “How can you make a machine that’ll lie to you?” 
His hands crept up your sides, and all the way up to cup your face in his hands.
He was impossible. In every way, but he was real. As real as the warmth from his hands and as real as the way that his mouth appeared to wet with saliva and how you could count the tiny moles on his face. 
“Well, what is it that you--”
He had drawn your face close up into his, then closed any space that divided the two of you. Your lips parted with his into a meeting of his plush lips that were even softer than you had imagined. Even though you knew he couldn’t taste it, you flooded the taste of chocolate into his mouth, and your body shivered in the way that he ran his tongue over your bottom lip. He wasn’t intrusive, but rather curious, and thrilled. Any semblance of him that was any less than the skin that you felt on yours faded, and you poured yourself all back to him. His fingers held fast to the sides of your face while he kissed back every with every bit of him that he could. Even in the one moment when your eyes had fluttered open, he held his eyes closed, to focus only on you. Your own wondering hands laced into his fuzzy locks. 
Each and every kiss that he painted across your lips was laced with indescribable want: something that he shouldn’t have even known, but you could feel it. He echoed the smile that you had pressed into his lips. 
“I just want to be with you tonight. Just a bit longer. No more timers.” Minho whispered onto your mouth, barely breaking. 
On the one hand, his request terrified you. A Mirror, one who you thought to be unfeeling, pre-programmed, an empty shell, wanted you. But still, you couldn’t control yourself from wanting him back, and everything about him that you knew and didn’t know. Wanting him, was the simplest thing you could have done. 
“I-I want that too.” 
His smile was thankful, and suddenly every little way that his eyes would crinkle or the corners of his mouth would upturn seemed more genuine. 
Minho traced your hands to the back of your his neck where he guided them to the tip of his spine. 
“Touch here.” He guided your fingertip over what felt like a bone. “Press down.” 
You did so, and the patch of skin sunk down a bit like a button. You held his eyes which flickered wholly with that blue-white light you had taken notice of before. 
“Say “Bypass LK2510.” “ 
He held your finger down still, and you repeated the phrase, watching as the light vanished all at once, even that thin ring around his irises. 
“What did that do?” 
Minho blinked a couple time like he was ridding sleep from his eyes, then beamed with a grin that only got wider and wider. “They shouldn’t know where I am for a while. You disabled my tracker.” 
“I did what??? Can’t I get in trouble for that??” 
“Not when I made you do it.” 
In his delight, he pressed his lips back up against yours with a kind of light air that was ecstatic and hurried--it was contagious, and the feeling swept over you until you were just as giddy. You were nearly as giddy as a school child reveling in the mischief of knowing what they were doing was against the classroom rules. 
Your chest swelled with nervous excitement, but it wasn’t nearly as addictive as any drug that you could imagine. 
“Where do you want to go now?” You asked him with hands clinging to the sides of his coat. 
“Anywhere.” 
~~
[nsfw version/ending coming soon on binniesthighs!] 
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midnightsnyx · 3 years
Text
Mathew Barzal - A Year In The Making
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pairing: mat barzal/reader
word count: 5.5k
warnings: fluff, angst (me writing sad stuff?? shocker), and there may be a couple swear words? also, this is not edited so i apologize in advance lol
a/n: so this isn’t the soulmate mat fic i am supposed to be writing lol but its still mat! i’ve been working on it f-o-r-e-v-e-r for @hannahmb​ so hannah, i hope you like it!
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Mat Barzal
Summary: Y/N looks back on an entire year with Mat.
 January
When you say that meeting Mathew Barzal swept you off your feet, you mean he literally swept you off your feet. It was cold and icy when you were walking to your favorite coffee shop. You weren’t watching where you were walking so when you ran in to him, his foot accidentally (and you question to the day whether it was truly accidental) tripped you up, he managed to catch you before you fell and when you looked at him and saw warm hazel eyes and brown hair sticking out from under his gray hat, you knew you were a goner.
. . .
You knew the reputation hockey players had. They slept around, didn’t give girls a second look after they got what they wanted and you were dead set on never giving Mathew Barzal a second thought but when you ran into him at the grocery store and he asked you to go for coffee, you agreed. 
Looking back, it was probably the dumbest and smartest decision of your life.
Coffee led to lunches which led to a movie night at his place which led you to your first hockey game. You knew absolutely nothing about hockey but what you did know, was that Mat loved to celebrate after a win. Whether it was heading to the bar with a couple of his friends or spending the night home watching a movie, he was always in the best mood after. 
After your first game, he decided that the best way to celebrate was to go for a walk and get hot chocolate with you. Despite only knowing each other for a little under a month, it felt like the two of you had been the best of friends forever. It was something that attracted you to Mat. How easily he was able to get you to open up to him and vice versa - how much he trusted you with his thoughts and feelings. 
It’s definitely how you found yourself standing under a lamppost, snow falling around you like some cheesy romance novel and Mat kissing you softly.
And thinking back, you wouldn’t have changed a single thing.
February 
Things between you and Mat were… interesting to say the least. You weren’t a couple but you know that both of you weren’t seeing other people either. Labels were messy anyways. They caused more tension between the two of you than good. Your friends, however, had their opinions.  
“I just think it’s a little weird that he hasn’t asked you to make things official yet.” Your friend said. “I mean, you don’t know what he does on the road or during the nights you don’t spend together.”
Her words certainly hit a sore spot but you tried to brush it off. “It’s casual,” you said. “We don’t want to jump into anything.”
“If you say so.” She hummed, going back to eating her pasta. 
Her words were in the back of your mind though, no Mater how hard you tried to push them out. You and Mat had been open about not seeing other people, it was a lengthy discussion that made you feel better about not putting a label on anything. But, there’s always the possibility that he would change his mind. You didn’t know what he did on the road. Maybe your friend was right, and even though you and Mat had talked about it, perhaps it was just his way of making sure you stuck around while he was home.
Maybe you were just the pathetic girl that waited at home for him while he did whatever he wanted while on the road.
 March
You’d swept your uneasy feelings about Mat under the rug until a Snapchat video surfaced of him on the internet. It was him with the other guys sitting at a table in a bar with some girls sitting with them. 
They were sitting with Mat and not on him is what you kept telling yourself. He didn’t look like he was interested in them but you couldn’t get rid of the awful feeling in the pit of your stomach that he would take one of them home with him.
You knew that letting your friend’s words about him would ruin things but you couldn’t help it. So you ignored him when he called you the next morning. He knew that you had early classes and wouldn’t call you after games when the time zones would be too different.
You ignored his call and then the texts he sent. He would be home the next day so you decided he could wait until then because you still weren’t sure what exactly to say to him. What would you tell him? That you didn’t believe him when he said that he only wanted to see you? That you didn’t trust him, or that you let your friends words get to you?
You still didn’t know what to say when he showed up at your apartment. He looked worried and mad and you weren’t sure which was worse.
“What’s wrong?” was the first thing he asked. There was no hello, how are you?
“Nothing.” You lied but he shook his head. 
“I know you better than that.” He said. “Something’s wrong.”
You wanted to lie to him again, tell him it was nothing, and to forget about it but you needed to know. 
“Those girls in the video.” You said, and he looked confused for a moment before his expression turned into understanding. “I know we aren’t a couple, technically,” you said quietly and watched as he slowly walked towards you. “But it bothered me.”
You waited for his reaction, watched his face warily. What you weren’t expecting was for him to take both your hands in his and squeeze them gently.
“Can I be honest with you?” He asked softly and even though you weren’t ready for his honesty, you nodded.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you that entire night.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Tito kept asking me why I wasn’t making a move on one of them.” His head tilted a little as he studied you. “But all I could think about that night was how much I wanted you to be there with me.” 
You couldn’t hide the smile that crossed your face and you wrapped your arms around his waist and hid your face in the crook of his neck. 
“I kinda wished I was there too.” You whispered and your smile widened when he picked you up and spun you around. He was laughing when he put you down.
“Let’s go out tomorrow night. A couple of the guys and their girlfriends or wives are going to Joe’s.” He gave you a hesitant look but continued. “I want to introduce you to them.” 
Your brows furrowed. “I’ve met your teammates.” 
“I want-” he cleared his throat. “I want to introduce you as my girlfriend.” 
Your smile could have lit up the room.
April
You quickly learned that being exclusive wasn’t all that it was cut out to be. There was a certain pressure that came with dating a professional athlete and as time went on, you felt yourself begin to crack under that pressure. You weren’t sure if it was the media, intense fans or the fact that it was difficult to spend as much time together during the Playoffs but you started to question things with Mat.
Your mother always told you that you were an over thinker and always managed to think of the worst possible scenarios and though you would never admit it to her, she was damn right.
Your overthinking is what typically caused an fight between you and Mat. You were never one to pick fights but it just felt like every single thing that happened made you upset. Whether it was you feeling that he played video games too much when the two of you hung out or that he thought you made a big deal out of small things, the two of you were arguing all the time.
It left you spending many nights questioning whether being with him was even worth it when all it seemed to do was cause stress. You wondered if he ever thought the same things.
. . .
The loud cheering in the Barclays Centre did no good to your mood on a Monday afternoon game. You weren’t even sure why you went to the stupid game in the first place after a terrible argument between you and Mat the night prior. It might have been Tito’s many, many texts that day asking you to come because “Mat is always in a bad mood when you don’t come to games” that had you sitting in the stands sporting your Barzal jersey. You knew that you were welcomed in the Wives Lounge but sometimes you enjoyed sitting surrounded by random people you didn’t know and not having to socialize.
It definitely was a good idea at the time because yours and Mat’s fight had unfortunately been in front of some of his teammates and their other halves so you didn’t feel like getting questioned about it.
A loud bang caused you to nearly jump out of your seat and when you looked up, Tito was standing in front of you, grin on his face and waving. You had been distracting yourself on your phone so you wouldn’t look at Mat during warm-ups but you caught his eye when Tito had made you look up. You couldn’t really read the expression on his face. Part was probably irritation and the other maybe relief that you had shown up. The door slamming in his face the night before was probably still fresh in his mind.
Tito waving his hand in front of you brought you back from the memory and he had a puck in his hand, pointing it to you. You furrowed your brows at him because you already had a few pucks from games when you and Mat had first started dating because he had a habit of gifting you with a lot of Islanders things. So you caught it when he chucked it over the glass, intending to give it to the kid sitting next to you until you caught sight of some scribbles on the back. You flipped the puck over and your heart warmed when you realized it was Mat’s handwriting.
I’m sorry with a small heart was written messily on it and when you looked up and caught Mat’s eyes, you smiled and nodded and that must have been enough for him because he grinned and winked at you.
It was enough for now.
. . .
Meeting him at the locker room doors was not anything unusual but you were on edge that evening. You were pretty sure Mat had forgiven you for slamming the door in his face the night before but you were still nervous. When the guys started coming out of the locker room, dressed back in their game suits and grins on their faces, you kept your eyes trained on the doors waiting for Mat.
“He’ll be a few more minutes.” Tito said, stopping in front of you. “He’s doing an interview - game winning goal scorer and all.”
You smiled and let him ruffle your hair like you were his little sister despite the age difference between you two being minor. He always treated you like a sister from the moment you met and you liked that compared to some of Mat’s other young teammates who tried flirting with you in the beginning.
“Thanks, Tito.” You said, waving as he smiled again and walked away.
A little longer than a few more minutes, Mat walked through the doors. He was dressed in his suit again and his hair was wet from the quick shower he must have taken before coming out.
“Hey.” He said quietly, hesitating as if he had been trying to decide whether to approach you or not. When you held out your arms, he walked straight to you and wrapped his around you, lifting you off the ground slightly.
The two of you stood there for what felt like longer than it probably was before he loosened his arms and pulled away a little.
“I’m sorry.” He said, resting his forehead against yours.
“Me too,” you told him and stood on the tips of your toes so you could reach his lips. The kiss was gentle and slow and when you pulled away, you took a step back. “The fight was stupid and we both know it.”
He nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “I know. I just… I feel like sometimes we fight for no reason and it frustrates me. I hate being mad with you.”
Deciding that Barclays Centre wasn’t the right place for his conversation, you took his hand and pulled him towards the exit.
“Let’s go home and talk.” You said and he nodded, squeezing you hand gently and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
As you both walked to his car, you idly wondered when home stopped being a place and instead became a person.
May
The Islanders got put out of the playoffs during the second round and although you knew Mat was upset, he shrugged and said, “there’s always next year.” You wondered if that was what got professional athletes through the losses in their careers.
The end of the hockey season meant Mat going home to B.C and it left you in an odd place. He didn’t directly ask you to come with him for the off season but the way he described his summer plans, made it seem like you were involved.
But you being you prevented you from outright asking if he wanted you to come home with him. It was a big step and you weren’t sure you could handle the rejection.
As the date he was leaving quickly approached, he asked if the two of you could talk and your stomach plummeted at his words. You agreed though and during the drive to his apartment, you mentally prepared yourself for the rejection.
He greeted you at the door with a kiss which eased some of your worries but when he started making you your favourite ice tea, you started getting worried. He was mindlessly babbling about random things until he sat on the stool next to you and when you looked at him, he was uncharacteristically serious.
“You could have told me you didn’t want to come to B.C,” he said. “I wouldn’t have been offended, I know you have friends here and probably had summer plans-”
“Mat.” You said quickly, cutting him off. “I want to come with you. To your home.”
He stopped his babbling and looked at you in shock. “Wait, really?”
“Yeah.”
“But you didn’t say.”
“Well I mean, you never asked.”
He rose his eyebrows comically high. “I didn’t think I had to.”
A smile broke out across your face and you leaned forwards so you could kiss him. He chased after you when you sat back making your grin widen. “I just didn’t want to push. We spend nearly all year together so I didn’t know if you wanted space for the summer.”
“Y/N.” He said seriously. “I want to be with you. Forever.”
And if that wasn’t the sweetest and most romantic thing a man had ever said to you, you weren’t sure what was.
June
Summer with Mat was, well, amazing. Days spent on the lake and nights spent under the stars ended up making that summer one of the best in your life.
Meeting his family for the first time was equally frightening as it was exciting. His father, Mike and mom Nadia were two of the kindest people you met and you quickly bonded with his sister Liana. They took you in as if you were their own and Mat frequently joked that they were stealing you from him.
You didn’t mind though. You loved spending days shopping at the mall or going to the beach with Liana. Brunch with his mom was always lovely and she always managed to tell you the funniest and most embarrassing stories about Mat. It gave you a little leverage when you needed it and on top of that, Mat was overly cute when he would pout at you jokingly poking fun of him.
Every single day, you realized you fell a little more in love with him and that realization nearly knocked you off your feet.
July
“Let’s go out tonight together.” He said one morning. “Just the two of us.”
Not having spent much alone time together as you would have liked, you quickly agreed. Mat didn’t tell you where he planned on taking you but he must have told Liana because she chose an outfit for you. It gave you a small idea of what he might have been planning.
She didn’t pick out a fancy dress which told you that he wasn’t bringing you to a high end restaurant which you were secretly pleased about because you never quite felt like you fit in at places like those. You much more preferred to go to a small diner so when she chose a cute romper with a pair of sandals, you had a bit of an idea of where you might be going.
“Any hints?” You asked, placing a hand over his which was resting on your thigh.
He shook his head and grinned. “It’s a surprise.”
You pretended to be bothered by it but you felt giddy inside that he was putting so much thought in to your date. It was also fun playing a guessing game, throwing ideas at him of where he was taking you even though you knew he wasn’t going to tell you. You had carefully watched his reactions to your guesses so you weren’t overly surprised when your ride ended at a park.
It was pretty late in the evening, getting close to dark so there were very few people out and around. He parked his car and reached in the backseat to grab a bag before climbing out of the car.
You knew he liked opening the door for you so you waited until he opened it before getting out as well. He took your hand and lead you to a park of the park that was empty and then dropped the bag on the ground and dug around, pulling an old blanket out.
“Picnic?” You asked, grinning from ear to ear.
“Is it okay?” He asked and you sat down when he spread the blanket out.
“It’s perfect.” You told him, watching as his face lit up. He sat down next to you and started pulling different snacks out of his bag, handing you some of your favorites.
“Mom helped pack the lunch.” He paused. “I had to stop her when she tried to cook a three course meal for us.”
You couldn’t help but laugh because it was a very Nadia thing to do.
“I love your mom.” You said. “I love your entire family.”
He smiled, looking at the ground as if he was concentrating on something. You knew the look enough that it meant he was going to say something but was either nervous and was working himself up to saying it or would decide not to say it at all.
But you wanted to know what he was thinking so you nudged him.
“What’s going on in your head?”
His cheeks were red when he lifted his head and he shrugged, smiling.
“I love you.”
Your smile was as bright as one of the stars and he met you halfway when you leaned towards him.
“I love you too.”
August
August was one of your least favourite months because it meant that summer was coming to an end. It also meant that off season was coming to an end and it meant that you and Mat would soon be heading back to New York. You loved it there, you really did. You missed your friends and your job but you knew you would miss B.C even more so when the day came that the two of you had to leave, you weren’t ashamed of the tears that were shed. Nadia made you promise to visit again soon and it was an easy promise to keep.
As soon as you got home, Mat was right back at training for the new season. It was a big change from spending basically every single day together to having to share him again with hockey. You loved Mat and you loved that he did what he loved but sometimes you did wish he had a normal nine to five job. He knew you felt that way some days and you could tell he sometimes felt a little bad about it but what you came to learn throughout your relationship with Mat, was that hockey nearly always came first. It was something that you struggled a lot with in the beginning of your relationship but it got a little easier as time went on.
On your best days, you would watch Mat train and feel pride in how determined and hard working he was.
On your worst days, you laid in bed at night and tried to think of your first kiss with the snow falling softly around you, warm sunny days at the lake and late nights under the stars.
Sometimes it was enough but sometimes, it wasn’t.
September
Wake Me Up When September Ends is the most played song on your playlist for an entire month.
October
You never know the biggest fight of your life is coming until it happens. It’s something that starts as the smallest of things until suddenly it hits you like a freight train and the impact is devastating.
That’s what the biggest fight of yours and Mat’s relationship was like.
You hated shouting and screaming. You hated threats to give everything up and walk away. You hated how easy it felt to do just that.
But what you hated most of all, was feeling like you were never enough. Like no Mater how hard you tried, failure was bound to happen and there was no way you could stop it.
And that was exactly what happened.
Slamming doors was your thing. It was childish and immature but it was a way of you making a point when you were angry about something so when Mat slammed a door, you knew he was past anger.
Mat rarely got angry with you. It could be counted on one hand the amount of times he even raised his voice at you but that night, the two of you yelled at each other until your voices were hoarse.
“Why can’t you understand where I’m coming from?” You snapped, watching him pace back and fourth across the living room. His hair was a mess, he had been running his hands through it and tugging enough that you thought he would tear it out.
“Because it makes no sense!” He yelled, “you knew what you signed up for when we started dating! I can’t be your typical nine to five boyfriend who comes home every night.”
“I’m not asking you to be that! I’m asking you to try and put more effort in to this relationship!” You shouted, not caring about the noise complaints you received from your neighbors a week later. “Do you know what it feels like when you feel that you’re the only one putting any effort in? What it feels like when you look at your friends relationships only to realize that yours isn’t even close to how good theirs is?”
“So you’re calling me a terrible boyfriend.” He said dryly.
“That’s not what I said and you know it. Stop putting words in my mouth, Mat.”
“I’m not putting words in your mouth if that’s what you’re saying. If you’re so unhappy, then why are you still with me, huh?”
His words stopped what you planned to say and you stared at him in shock. A small part of you wondered what the answer to his question was. Were you really that unhappy that you considered leaving?
“I…” you began but trailed off as you watched any emotion leave his face. The hurt and even anger disappeared and you didn’t realize how quiet the room was until he shook his head.
“I’ll make it easier for you.” He said, grabbing his coat and keys. “I’m done.”
You felt like you were frozen in place as you watched him leave, slamming the door behind him. Minutes passed before you slowly walked towards the front door, opening it in hopes that maybe just maybe he was standing on the other side but when you opened it, the hallway was empty. It was dead silent and when you looked at the floor, you saw Mat’s key to your apartment laying there, the little heart and smiley face you had drawn on it staring up at you as if it was mocking you.
You knelt down to pick it up and suddenly it felt like you couldn't breathe, like all the air was pulled from your lungs and your heart was cracking open.
If meeting Mat felt like breathing for the first time, then losing him felt like drowning.
November
You thought that heartbreak was something that passed eventually, that it got easier every day but it was a lie. You didn’t get over Mat quickly, in fact, it felt like every day got harder and you always told yourself you wouldn’t be that girl. The girl who gets her heart broken and can’t get over him. You wouldn’t cry yourself to sleep some nights or be afraid to turn the TV on in case it was the sports channel and you saw his face.
You scrubbed your apartment clean of him, everything he gave you and anything that reminded you of him sat in boxes on the top shelf of the spare bedroom. It didn’t help though because the memories, those were impossible to forget. They were engraved in your brain forever.
You hated him for how easily he left, how easy it was for him to walk out of your life as if he was never here.
Tito texted you a few time in the beginning, first asking what happened and then asking if you were okay or if you needed anything. You guessed he got the message when you didn’t answer because you haven’t heard from him in weeks and you weren’t sure if that made you relieved, or sad.
Falling in love was easy you realized.
Falling out of love was impossible.
December
A year passes swiftly. Especially when it’s both the best and worst year of your life. You hated yourself for it, but when December hits, you wondered how Mat was. You wondered if he got over you quickly or if he struggled the same way you did. You suspect it was the former.
At the end of every year, you liked to go through your things and donate what you don’t need or want. You started with your clothes and as you went through it, you noticed that you were missing several of your favourite outfits and your heart sank when you realized they were at Mat’s.
It left you with a dilemma. Leave them, or be a big girl and go ask for them back. You could go through Tito to get them back but you don’t know if he’s upset with you for ignoring him just because you broke up with Mat. He was your friend and it was unfair what you did but at the time, you were hurting.
But still, you decided to do it yourself and go get the clothes from Mat’s apartment and whatever else you might have left there. You did your best to get ready and look presentable and when you felt ready, you grabbed your keys and headed for the door. When you opened it, a hand nearly collided with your face as the person standing there was starting to knock. They jumped back and when you looked up, you found yourself staring in to the eyes of the exact person you were going to see.
“Mat.” You whispered, feeling like you needed to reach out and touch his face to make sure he was actually standing there and you weren’t hallucinating. But you didn’t because that would just make you look insane.
“Hi.” He said quietly and the two of you stood there for an unknown amount of time staring at each other.
Eventually, you found your voice.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, not harshly but confused.
He opened his mouth to say something but it was if he couldn’t get the words out. Like they were stuck in his throat.
“I’m sorry.” He finally said and you looked at him in shock.
“What?”
He scratched the back of his head and looked at the floor. “What I said to you… it was unfair. I know I fucked up, and I don’t deserve a second chance but these past two months, I missed you like Hell.”
You were lost for words. You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t miss him too but were you really willing to put your heart on the line again and it got broken so easily last time? Could you even handle another heartbreak like that?
“Can we… can you give me a second chance?” He asked so timidly and quietly that you barely heard him.
You let yourself think back over the past year, remembering every single detail. All the joy, laughter, love and heartbreak. Was it worth it? Risking everything again even though you could end up broken again?
You found yourself looking at Mat again, hazel eyes warm and hopeful and it makes you think of the very first time you met. You were faced with the same decision - to let him in or let him go?
You knew you could live without him but you realized standing there, thinking about the past and what the future could be - you didn’t want to live without him.
So you stood up on the tips of your toes and pulled his lips down to meet yours and it felt like you were whole again.
“I can.”
(a couple years down the road, you’ll be saying I do in front of your friends and family with the love of your life and you’ll realize that yes, the risk was worth it.)
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realcube · 3 years
Text
sleepy haikyuu headcanons 💤
pairings: nishinoya x reader, tendō x reader, kageyama x reader
tw// swearing, violence(?), she//her reader, angst, overthinking, fluff 
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Yū Nishinoya
midnight pillow fights with Noya 💓
i could leave at that but i shall elaborate 
whenever you sleepover at his house (or vice versa), every time y’all say that you are gonna pull an all-nighter and have chaotic fun
but it never works because being chaotic requires a lot of energy, so you both end up falling asleep at like 2AM-ish 🥱
the closest that y’all have gotten to an all-nighter is 5AM
anyway, it’s not a tradition - more like something that just ends up happening every time Noya is over, perhaps a curse lol
but at some time of night, you’ll say something to irk Noya and he’ll throw/hit you with a pillow 
not to intentionally start shit but just as playful ‘shut up’ sorta thing
but something about the sharp impact of the pillow just pisses you off and you instinctively launch a pillow right back at him and it’s always a bit harder than you meant for it to be  
thus, a pillow fight ensues  
Noya had always envisioned a pillow fight with a female as a playful, sensual experience 
but there was absolutely nothing playful or sensual about the way you powerbombed him and then proceeded to suffocate him with your pillow 
you would both be feistily beating each other with the pillow, the room filling with your battle cries and screams ╰(‵□′)╯
and this would only end once both of your harsh, quick hits turned sloppy and tired 
eventually, you’d both just drop unconscious during the fight and wake up in the weirdest positions 
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Satori Tendō
he is the self-certified ‘worst cuddler’ (ಥ _ ಥ)
not only is he extremely sensitive to temperature, he’s also filled with too much energy to just stay in the same position with you for god knows how long 
it’s not that he didn’t like to cuddle, though. 🥺 i mean, nothing made him feel more safe than you in his arms but he was just unable to stop himself from getting restless when he did it for too long 
but there were some nights that he wasn’t as fidgety, though
most of the time, it was after a big volleyball game or a hard day at practise and he was absolutely exhausted (_ _)。゜zzZ
he’d literally just detours to your house to catch up like he usually does but his demeanour clearly isn’t the same when he’s worn out so you invite him in for a few minutes and he’d gladly (and gratefully) accepts 
he’d just flop down on the couch beside you, his arms just automatically finding your waist and thoughtlessly pulling you against his chest as he laid back, staring at the ceiling
he found himself muttering random things about his day when you asked him, but nothing he said seemed to be in chronological order - unless he brushed his teeth during volleyball practise, which - now that you think about it - doesn’t sound too out of character for him.
his hand found it’s way into your hair and started caressing your scalp, slowly drifting off as the little tune you hummed into his shoulder sent relaxing vibration throughout his body ( ̄o ̄) . z Z
and this wasn’t a one-time thing either, whenever he comes to your house drained from practise, a similar chain of events always end up happening 
the only difference being that sometimes it was in your bed rather than on the couch 
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Tobio Kageyama 
i feel like bb has nightmares, like frequently 🥺
i mean, if i was him i’d have nightmares too; he has so much important shit riding on his performance - it’s a miracle that this man can even sleep with how much stress he must be under 
like, he’s kinda failing school/ he doesn’t have the best grades and if he doesn’t do well on tests then his opportunity to go to camps and train volleyball could be taken 
speaking of volleyball, he probably is so stressed from being a part of a team and having people rely on him - not the mention that he clearly isn’t very good at processing his feelings considering that he expresses most negative emotion he feels towards Hinata in the form of anger   
then there is the pressure of keeping his relationships and not naturally distancing himself from the people he loves
like you, for example
he goes to bed with all these horrible thoughts in his head and whenever he tries to think positive, it  always backfires
he’ll be like ‘i’m the worst person to be around, it’s clear nobody likes me.’
then he kinda shakes it off like, ‘wait, no. don’t think that. i know that (Y/N) loves me and i love her back.’
but his mind never leaves him alone, ‘am i even sure she loves me? i mean, i act so stand-offish towards her - yeah, she probably barely tolerates me. and she was talking about hinata’s spike yesterday, she’s probably going to dump me for him.’
it was a heart-wrenching thought but what could kageyama do? 
for now, he’d just lie down beside you on your bed as you scrolled away on your phone, completely unaware that he just mentally rehearsed how he was going to react when you broke up with him
“goodnight, kags. love you.” you hummed, turning around to place a kiss on his cheeks like you always do when he sleeps over
kageyama nodded, trying to act cool and collected despite the fact he was internally nervous as hell, “night, (y/n).” he paused, trying his best to lift the corners of his lips into a kind - rather than intimidating - smile, “love you too.”
‘look, i called her by her first name - i’m so romantic.’ that was probably the nicest thing he’s thought to himself all day
with that, you both try to get some rest 
aaaannnndddddd cue the part when he wakes up in a cold sweat, shivering slightly as he looks over to you with wide eyes to reassure himself that your not gone 
his heavy breathing alerts you that he is awake so you pry one eye open to look at him, “not again, tobio.” you said wearily, forcing yourself to sit up and attempt to wrap him in a hug but he just jerked away from your touch
you sighed, “what happened?”
kageyama blinked rapidly, darting his gaze around the room before it finally landed back on you
“i- the walls- and you were almost d-” he began coughing, resulting in you immediately reaching over to your nightstand and handing him the bottle of water you had lying there
he took a few gulps before letting out a refreshed ‘ah’, his stare glued to your lips the whole time
eventually, he was able to grumble “it was nothing.” (⊙_⊙;)
upon hearing his evidently fake answer, you shoved out your bottom lip and whined, “shut up, tobio. i was obviously something; why won’t you tell me?”
“because it was nothing.” he said without missing a beat, then he proceeded to lay down so he could fall back asleep - as if this time it’d go better for him
“Kageyama!” you barked, resulting his eyes jolting back open, “You always have nightmares at my house; I’m starting to wonder if you’re scared of me or something.” 
kageyama shook his head before nonchalantly responding, “it’s the cherry blossom air freshener - maybe use vanilla or something next time.” he joked, unable to resist a smile as you playfully punched his shoulder.
you sighed, clearly not going to get an answer out of like every other time you’ve tired, so you just decided to  try fall back asleep and try reclaim the little bit of sanity you had left
“(y/n).” kageyama grumbled, wanting to make it seem like he was half-asleep but he was far from it as he pulse was still going crazy as that nightmare shook his to the core. “are you going to dump me? because if you are, now would be a good time.” 
he spoke, praying to every deity he could think of that you wouldn’t say yes - but if you did, now would be a good time as he could storm out and since it was dark outside, the streets would be deserted meaning that nobody would be there to witness the tears streaming down his cheeks as he sprinted through the night 
you rolled your eyes, “is that what this is about?” you didn’t mean for it to come off so harsh as you actually felt a great amount of sympathy for kageyama but just unable to express it in the way you desired
“stop crying.” you hissed, making kageyama quirk an eyebrow.
“I’m not crying-” he replied until suddenly, he realised that your comment was directed at yourself as you hastily buried your head into his chest and he felt something soak through the fabric of his shirt. 
“I’m not going to break up with you kageyama, you stupid moron idiot!” you snapped against his shirt.
don’t ask why that nickname made kageyama’s heart flutter
“get those crazy ideas out of your head or i’ll have to take them out for you 🔪--” you could barely even finish your sentence before both you and kageyama burst out laughing
it was probably just the ambience of being cozy under a blanket with each other in a freezing cold room that reeked of cherry blossom but some how you both some how fell even harder for one another
although what you said wasn’t the most moving or motivating, your intention was clear and from then on, kageyama was a lot more upfront with you💕 
he’d tell you if he ever felt uncomfortable or if he was ever worried and you’d either make him feel better or make him laugh and then insist that he goes to talk to suga or daichi
also after that night, (and once you ditched the air freshener and started burning vanilla essence) he only had ‘sweet dreams’ whenever he stayed over at yours 
(or at least that is what he said whenever you asked him. in reality, his dreams were about volleyball and tsukishima chasing him through the mall on a velociraptor but whatever, it was a step up from the nightmares anyway. 🏃‍♂️ 🦖 )
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tintinwrites · 4 years
Text
world’s greatest dad | Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x Reader
A/N: I wanted to write this when I did that dumb ‘Telling Pedro characters you’re pregnant’ thing lol
Rating: T
Warning: Accidental pregnancy. Naughty words. Little sexual references.
Word count: 1,560, apparently!!
Summary: You’re pregnant, but you and Frankie weren’t trying and you’re terrified to tell him.
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GIF credit: @damerondjarin​
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You wondered if the little box under the sink was expired or something.
You’d bought them a couple years ago, two and a half months after moving in with Frankie when you realized your period was off; he sat next to you on the edge of the tub, chewing on his thumb nail as you waited the three minutes and sighing happily when there was only one line on the stick, and these tests must’ve been expired by now, right?
You looked at the box eight times now and each time it was printed on there that they were a year out from no longer working properly, which meant the two little lines on the stick on the counter were accurate.
You were pregnant.
When you’d taken that test all those years ago, you and Frankie were terrified because you’d only been together for a little over a year and you’d just taken the step of moving in together.
We’ll figure it out, he said to try and calm your sobbing as you apologized for the possibility of being pregnant.
It was the first time you really talked about kids once you knew you weren’t pregnant and you agreed that later, someday, you would like a couple of them.
Was two years later someday enough? Were you and Frankie in a place where you wanted and could care for a child?
The subject of kids popped up every so often, but you definitely weren’t trying and that made you scared to tell him. You remembered how nervous he was even though he’d been trying to pretend it was fine if you were pregnant to keep you calm, and you wondered what he’d think since you were actually pregnant this time.
Being together another couple years didn’t mean he wanted a baby now, especially since you were both still fairly smitten with each other and enjoying living together, occasionally traveling somewhere whether it was for an anniversary or vacation.
Part of you didn’t even want to tell him, wanted to throw the test in the trash and throw the trash into a landfill and pretend you didn’t know anything about being pregnant or not.
But another part of you was staring at yourself in the mirror, a hand on your belly as if you could see any evidence of pregnancy when you were probably no more than a month and a half or so, thinking about how there was a baby in there. Frankie’s baby. And you loved Frankie so much that some whimsical part of your brain thought that this would be nice.
You thought of him holding a tiny baby that looked like both of you and you knew you had to tell him even if you were scared what he might think of this.
He’d figure it out anyway when a human being pushed out of your vagina or needed to be cut out of you, and he would probably be much more nervous at that than you telling him yourself.
Frankie was a good man and you knew he loved you, and if he was willing to figure out how to raise a baby when you weren’t together for long then he’d figure it out now, but you supposed everyone was a little hesitant when telling someone you created a little life together.
The idea of telling him in a cute way made you a little more eager to tell him, thinking that it might convince him a little more that a baby was a good thing if he was that terrified; you bought him a hat that said ‘World’s Greatest Dad’ on it and put it in a lime green gift bag.
You were practicing your little speech that you’d say to him — if, “Congrats, Daddy. I’m pregnant,” counted as a speech — when he walked into the apartment, taking his keys out of his pocket to set in a dish by the door and stepping out of his boots.
He walked over to where you were standing by the dining table and he kissed your cheek like always. “Hey, baby.”
You stared at him. What if he didn’t want a baby? What if he was so angry at you for being pregnant that he didn’t kiss your cheek anymore?
Was this what pregnancy hormones did to all women or were you just an overthinker?
You were so overwhelmed and perhaps a bit hormonal that you started sobbing, making Frankie look at you with wide eyes.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He gently grabbed onto your face, making you look up at him as tears streamed down your cheeks.
“I’m preg—pregnant.” Your voice was shaking and laced with tears.
Frankie’s hands fell away from your face immediately and he stepped back, staring at you for a long moment. You kept crying as he slowly took off his hat, wringing it, practically crushing it in his hands. “You’re serious?”
You nodded, sobbing. “I’m sorry, I know we weren’t ready to try yet and we were...we were being careful, but I guess my birth control messed up for some reason and the test...it’s here…I…” You pulled the test from the back pocket of your jeans and showed it to him, as much as you could with your hands trembling like they were. “And—and—and I checked, and the tests are still good, so I really am pregnant, Frankie, and I understand if you’re mad at me. If you don’t want anything to do with the baby or me.”
That was...a lot. His brain seemed to be working a little slowly with all you were saying, some of your words unintelligible with your crying that he had to figure out. He stayed quiet, taking the test from you and looking at the obvious two lines on the stick that indicated you were indeed pregnant.
“Okay,” he said slowly, putting the test and his hat down on the table and stepping closer to you, gently cupping your face and running his thumbs over your cheeks to wipe your tears. “First of all, why would I be mad at you? You didn’t get pregnant by yourself, I’m pretty sure I was in there at some point.” He smiled slightly as his words made you let out a little laugh. “Second of all, this could...this could be a good thing. If you think it’s a good thing, then it’s a good thing.”
“Really?” You kept your eyes on his chest, pulling on the lapels of his jacket to straighten it out a little.
“You love me, right?” He moved his hands down your neck and shoulders then squeezed your upper arms.
“You know I do.” You moved your hands under his jacket, caressing his sides.
“I love you, so this baby’s gonna be loved, too.” He frowned a little when you started to cry again. “Listen, we’re not strapped for cash or anything, we can deal with this even if we weren’t trying for a baby. My job pays well, your job pays well, and even when you have to take off to have the baby, we’ll be fine.”
“We live in a one bedroom apartment and we just renewed the lease and—” You dissolved into sobs again when he pulled you against his chest, shushing your fears.
“So the kid’ll sleep with us for a few months, then we’ll...find a house. With a yard they can play in and we’ll finally be able to get a dog…”
You liked that thought, nuzzling into his chest. “That does sound nice.”
“If you wanna do this, I wanna do this. You were kind of freaking out there, so you need to tell me where you’re at with this.”
“I was...terrified, because we weren’t trying for a baby and I thought you’d be mad at me, but I don’t know...I like that there’s a little Frankie in my belly right now.”
“—fuck, baby.” You could tell by the sound of his laugh that he was tearing up.
You pulled away a bit to look up at him, your hands now sliding up his shirt to tickle him lightly. “I wanted to tell you in a cute way and instead I cried all over you.”
“I hate seeing you cry, but you’re still cute when you do. How were you gonna tell me?”
Frankie watched you pull away to grab the gift bag off the table, smirking at you and mumbling about how vibrant the color was as he took it. As he took the hat out of the bag and read it, a tear fell from his eye. “Shit.”
“Aw, Frankie,” you were crying again, what with the hormones and seeing your boyfriend emotional over being the world’s greatest dad, and you stroked his cheek gently.
“Now this you can blame yourself for, making me upset with all your crying then buying me this damn hat.” He kissed your head.
You nudged him, taking the hat from him and placing it on his head. It fit perfectly without adjusting the strap, like it was made for him.
He looked at you with a lopsided smile and you could almost see him looking like the proud father he’d be, holding his newborn baby.
His eyes widened when you started crying harder.
“Wait, baby, no, I can take it off!”
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whenisitenoughtrees · 4 years
Note
still taking prompts? got rlly excited for a bit when u said u were bc i enjoy ur style a lot. anyway, lamp/calm for prompt #29? the prompt sounds like smth chaotic they would do lol
this is less chaotic and more tooth-rottingly fluffy, but uh here you go
for #29. Be quiet! You’ll get us caught!
Title: overthinking (darling we’re just fine)
Word Count: 1,963
Content Warnings: gratuitous discussion of breakfast foods
(fic masterpost w/ ao3 links)
“Be quiet! You’ll get us caught!”
He hisses the words out entirely too loudly in the silence of the corridor, and Virgil winces as the sound dies down. In his defense, it is six in the morning, and he is hardly thinking straight. Or rather, coherently. And Roman knows it, too, is smirking at him with that stupid handsome smirk of his, and Virgil would seriously consider kissing him if it weren’t for the fact that he is running on roughly three hours of sleep, and his irritation is spiking.
“Now, storm cloud,” he says, voice just below a normal speaking volume, “we all know that Patton’s going to be dead to the world until at least seven thirty. You don’t need to worry so much.”
And, alright, maybe that’s true. But Virgil glares at him, too tired to deal with the slightly patronizing tone of voice. “Yeah?” he challenges. “I’m sorry, have you met me?”
Roman lifts an eyebrow. “Darling, I think I’ve done a bit more than meet you, at this point—”
“If you two are done making unnecessary noise?” It’s Logan, coming back around the corner, and he does not look impressed. Though, that may be because it’s six in the morning, and Logan never looks impressed about anything until his second cup of coffee. “By my estimates, we have one hour and seventeen minutes before we enter the window of time in which Patton is most likely to wake up. That should be enough time to complete all of our tasks, if we begin now and don’t commit any egregious errors.”
Virgil exchanges a look with Roman.
“Right, lead the way, Lo,” Roman says, and Virgil trails after the two of them, his brain fixing itself on the phrase egregious errors, because of course it does, because it’s him, because he can’t make it through one morning without his mind insisting that something is going to go terribly wrong and also that the world is ending.
He breathes in and out, slowly and deliberately. It’s just breakfast. They’re just making breakfast for Patton, because Patton has been sad and distant lately and nobody is quite sure how to help him, but doing something like this for him might cheer him up a bit.
So many things could go wrong, of course. They could burn the food. They could burn themselves. They could make such a mess that the prospect of cleaning it all up will put more stress on Patton than cooking the meal for him will alleviate, and then he’ll be even more sad and distant, and also, the world will end.
He’s trying not to think about any of that. Trying and failing. This sucks.
“Do you both remember your parts?” Logan asks. He’s tying an apron around his middle, black and utilitarian, but it suits him, somehow. Roman answers in the affirmative, already rattling around in the cupboards for the pans he needs, and Virgil gives a short nod.
Logan is making an omelet, one with all the fixings that Patton likes, ham and cheese and onion. Roman has insisted on making blueberry muffins from scratch, because he’s Roman and he has to be one hundred percent extra one hundred percent of the time. So, that’s left Virgil in charge of protein, and he’s chosen bacon. He knows how to make bacon. Theoretically, bacon is easy; you put it on the frying pan and flip it at the right time, and viola. Bacon.
So he stands there, watching it sizzle. Logan is next to him, keeping a close watch over his omelet on the stove top, and he serves as a steadying presence, reminding Virgil that he’s fine and that he can do this, and that bacon doesn’t take a very long time anyway, so even if he messes up, he can do it again. On Logan’s other side, Roman has commandeered the entire counter for his ingredients. He’s mixing them together and humming to himself, a jovial tune, and it’s still too loud but Virgil feels better about it than he did a few minutes ago.
He finishes the first batch, and frowns at the strips. They’re definitely cooked through all the way, but they’re a bit floppy, and a realization strikes him: he doesn’t know how Patton likes his bacon. Chewy or crispy? Or somewhere in between, with some crispy bits at the edges and the rest softer?
Oh god, the world is ending.
He must make a noise, or a noticeable motion, because Logan glances over at him.
“Is everything alright?” he asks.
“Chewy or crispy?” he manages to say, though his throat has clenched up like a vice. He is well aware that he’s making too big of a deal about this, that it’s just bacon, for crying out loud, but he’s running on so little sleep and it’s so important to him that he gets this right, that they succeed in making Patton feel a little better, and in the face of that, imperfect bacon might as well be the worst catastrophe he’s ever faced.
Logan’s brow furrows. “Are you talking about the bacon?” he asks. “You know, I’m not actually sure.”
He groans, staring at what he’s already made. It might be fine, but then again, it might not be, and if it’s not—
“Virgil,” Logan says, a bit of amusement creeping into his voice. “Please, breathe. Overly processed meat products are not worthy of your distress.”
“But—”
“No,” Logan says, “none of that. Even if we don’t know which he prefers, I find it unlikely that he will reject it out of hand if it’s crispier or chewier than he likes. And besides, if it would ease your mind, there is still plenty of time to make more, and that can be crispier than this first batch, so he can choose what he wants.”
He closes his eyes, nodding, turning over the words in his mind. As always, Logan knows exactly what to say to bring him out of a spiral.
“Right,” he says, and then again, because it’s reassuring to hear it out loud. “Right.”
Logan smiles at him, and then, almost too quickly to process, presses a soft kiss to the corner of Virgil’s mouth. He feels himself heating up, especially when he hears Roman laugh a bit.
“There we are,” Logan says fondly, and Virgil doesn’t see so much as sense Roman sneaking around to his other side. He anticipates the kiss, smacked against his cheek, wet and sloppy. He turns to glare, but Roman grins back at him unabashedly.
“I hear it’s loving Virgil hours?” he asks, and Virgil resists the urge to groan.
“It’s ten ‘til seven,” Logan says, but dashes Virgil’s hopes by following that up with, “though I’m not sure why the time matters. Every time is a good time to love Virgil.”
“Oh my god,” he says, and prays that his blush isn’t as obvious as he thinks it is. He may not have much dignity left to speak of, but he has a little bit, if he can hang on to it. “Isn’t it supposed to be loving Patton hours? Can we focus on that, please?”
“We can multitask,” Roman singsongs. “Muffins going in.”
Wordlessly, Virgil steps aside to allow him access to the oven.
“Actually,” Logan says, leaning against the counter with a self-satisfied expression, “the human brain is not designed for true multitasking. This is what makes speaking on the phone while driving so dangerous; if one attempts to accomplish multiple tasks at once, the ability to do all of them is severely compromised.” He pauses. “Though I believe Roman’s point does stand.”
“Of course it does,” Roman says airily. “We have so much love to go around.”
Logan concedes the point with a tilt of his head, but any attempt at stoicism is ruined by the grin twitching at the edges of his lips. Virgil rolls his eyes and dumps more bacon into his pan, but he has to admit, he does feel a lot more relaxed.
Which was probably their goal all along.
They finish up breakfast. Logan makes several omelets that are up to his standards, and Roman’s muffins come out of the oven perfectly baked, soft and crumbly on the top. And Virgil makes another batch of bacon, crispy this time, and then one more for good measure, just to make sure there’s enough of both kinds. Roman goes about setting the table for four, back to humming quietly to himself.
Virgil tunes into the sound on instinct, letting the ebb and flow of Roman’s voice ground him.
Logan surveys the spread of food with satisfaction. “Some fruit, perhaps?” he suggests, and Virgil veers over toward the fridge, digging through to find some strawberries. He’s washing them up when there is a sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, and everyone else quiets.
Virgil turns to see Patton standing in the doorway to the kitchen, and his first thought is that he looks like crap. His hair is still mussed from sleep, and he has a thick blanket draped across his shoulders, but that’s not what catches Virgil’s attention; it’s the bloodshot look in his eyes and the bags underneath them, pointing to at least one restless night, if not more. It’s a look that Virgil is used to seeing in his own mirror; he doesn’t like seeing it on Patton.
“Good morning, Patton,” Logan says softly. “We made breakfast for you.”
Patton blinks owlishly, and for a moment, his face is completely blank, as if the words haven’t registered with him at all. Then, his eyes flicker to the table, and then to the mess in the kitchen, and go wide.
“You did all this for me?” he asks, his voice small.
Roman drapes his arms over him from behind, kissing his cheek just in front of his ear.
“Of course,” he says.
“We’ve noticed that you haven’t been feeling well lately,” Logan adds. “We hoped that this might help you feel better.”
A smile breaks out on Patton’s face, then, thin and watery and wavering but there all the same, and it is such a relief to see that Virgil feels as though a physical weight has been lifted from his shoulders. Patton gestures toward Logan, who steps forward obligingly into the hug, and then Patton looks to Virgil, who is still hovering awkwardly around the sink, hands full of strawberries, and, well. He can never deny Patton anything, and a group hug sounds nice, so he sets the strawberries down on the counter and moves to join them. It’s a big, warm embrace with Patton in the middle, and Virgil sighs as the last of his tension drips out of him, leaving him uncommonly relaxed.
“I love you guys so much,” Patton says. “Thank you.”
“Love you too, Pat,” Virgil murmurs, and though his voice gets a little bit lost in between the other two saying much the same thing, he knows that Patton hears him, because he turns to him for just a second and smiles, brighter and more genuine, and really, that makes all the stress of the morning completely worth it.
So, they have breakfast, and it’s good, and Virgil notices that Patton doesn’t seem to have much a preference between the two types of bacon, but that’s more than alright, because the point is to make Patton a bit happier, and the small smile on his face says that they’ve succeeded at that. So maybe the world isn’t ending at all.
Because Virgil would rather die than say something so cheesy out loud, but he’s got his entire world right here, sitting around the table in the early morning light, food and company and love to spare.
General Taglist: @just-perhaps @the-real-comically-insane @jerrysicle-tree @glitchybina @psodtqueer @mrbubbajones @snek-boii @severelylackinginquality @aceawkwardunicorn @gayerplease @elizabutgayer @dwbh888 @thatoneloudowl @sanderssides-angst @gayboopnoodle @wildfire5157 @ldavmp4 @a-ghostlight-for-roman @sammy-is-obsessed @imlovethomassanders @a-yeet-bop-bop-boom @halfordshysteria @random-fander @addykatb @i-cant-find-a-good-username @intruxiety @maybedefinitely404 @arya-skywalker @thefivecalls @nerdy-emo-royal-dad
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mimi-cee-hq · 4 years
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Since First Year - Tsukishima x Yachi
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31 Days of Haikyuu!! - Day 17: Favourite Pairing - tsukiyachi :D
Summary: Tsukishima has been pining for Yachi over the years. High school, college, and afterwards, he wonders if he ever had a chance in the first place. A series of snippets of Tsukishima and Yachi's relationship over the years.
Tags: Cute fluff, Pining, Canon-compliant (I think), First year, Third year, College, Sendai Frogs, Sendai City Museum, (these are all basically hints about scenes in the story lol)
This one-shot was inspired by @limach-an's tsukiyachi fanart. And I also blame @innovativestruggles for sharing it with me and for loving tsukiyachi more than I do.
Note: If tsukiyachi is your NOTP, you can just filter out the tsukiyachi tag. I’m pretty good at tagging them.
Words: 1,958
*****
Drool fell out of Tanaka's mouth, Hinata was asleep as well, and Nishinoya looked like he could pass out any minute. Kiyoko, holding a tray of food in her hand, looked at Tanaka, wondering what to do with him. Yachi panicked at the sight of Hinata's head on the table.
"He's fine, Yachi," commented Tsukishima. "Just let him sleep."
Yachi bit her lip, glancing at Tsukishima then back at Hinata. "I guess you're right," she replied. As Tsukishima continued to munch on his shrimp, Yachi giggled at him. "You're actually eating," she pointed out.
Tsukishima directed his eyes elsewhere. After the Shiratorizawa match, he had worked up a large appetite, which was absent on a normal day. He took another bite from the shrimp but didn't bother to eat the meat in its tail. His hands were still taped up.
"Umm...," she said while scratching her cheek. "Do you want me to help you with that?" Tsukishima prompted her to go ahead. As she peeled off the skin, she nervously peeked at Tsukishima every so often, as if she wanted to say something. "Y-You were really cool," she finally said after giving him the meat.
Tsukishima felt his cheeks heat up. He remembered feeling proud of his brother when Yamaguchi thought Akiteru was cool. He knew that Yamaguchi looked up to him as well. But it was embarrassing to hear it straight from Yachi. With cheeks still red, he muttered a thanks in reply.
"Nishinoya was cool too!" Yachi continued. "And Sugawara too! And I can't believe Hinata jumped into the net!" she laughed. Oh. So it wasn’t just him. But perhaps he should have expected that.
"Yachi," Kiyoko called out to her from across the table. "Could you help me get Tanaka's bowl?"
"Okay!" she replied, leaving her seat.
Tsukishima scowled, fully aware of the empty spot to his right. He continued to eat, biting a bit too firmly on his food. "Tch,” he clicked his tongue, getting frustrated at the strange feeling in his stomach.
*****
"Here," Yachi handed the booklets to the team’s two new managers. "Hopefully, this will help you get oriented," she explained. "I already went over most of the information with you, but I made these in case you missed something or wanted something as reference."
The two first years gawked at the booklet. It was filled with information like names of the members of the team, the volleyball rules specific for the Japanese high school league, and the year's schedule. But that wasn't all. It was laid out with detailed attention to typography and graphics and it was pleasing to look at.
"Are you a professional graphics designer?" one of the managers asked.
Yachi rubbed the back of her head with a timid smile. "I would like to be one," she replied.
The two ran off, after receiving instructions from her. Tsukishima commented, "You're going to be busy with those two this year."
"I don't mind being busy with something like this," Yachi smiled. "I'm glad more people are interested in our volleyball team. Remember when I made that fundraising poster in first year?" Tsukishima recalled it clearly. "I don't even have to do that anymore. I'm glad that I joined the team and I got to see everyone grow."
Tsukishima noted the gentle smile on her face. "I'm glad we both joined," he mumbled to himself.
"What was that?" Yachi asked.
"Nothing," he calmly replied. "Why are you talking like we're not playing anymore? We still have the rest of the year."
"Ah! That's right!" Yachi exclaimed, covering her mouth.
Tsukishima smirked at her reaction. Although, he said otherwise, they really did only have a year of high school left. Staring at the top of Yachi's blonde hair, bundled to the side, he sighed, not wanting things to change.
*****
Hinata: Happy New Year!! Please take care of us this year too!!!!!!!
Yamaguchi and Yachi laughed their heads off while Tsukishima covered a chuckle. Hinata sent them a picture of him and Oikawa making a Kagamimochi out of sand. But it literally looked like crap.
“It looks so wrong when you make that with sand!!” exclaimed Yamaguchi.
“That sitting - wait, squatting pose there isn’t doing them any favours either…!” said Yachi.
“They look so proud of their creation. It’s making me mad,” Tsukishima said, somehow still annoyed by them.
It was already New Years Day when they got the text. Yachi came over to Tsukishima and Yamaguchi’s dorm to visit for the first time in a while. After high school, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi went to Tohoku University while Yachi went to Miyagi University. Although they all lived in the same area, they didn’t see her very often. It was expected, but Tsukishima thought it was nice to see his high school friend again, not that he’d admit it.
“I guess I should go home now,” Yachi said as she stood up from the futon. “This was fun,” she smiled at them. Tsukishima walked her to the door as Yamaguchi started to clean up. “I’m going to miss you two.”
Tsukishima smirked at her. “Well…,” he started, “you could see us more often if you dated me.”
He heard a chopstick fall on the floor. Yamaguchi went stiff. Yachi blinked at Tsukishima, likely wondering if he was serious. “Tsukki, you shouldn’t joke about that,” she laughed. With her coat already on, she opened the door. “I’ll see you two next time,” she grinned.
Right after the door closed, Yamaguchi accidentally let out a snort. Tsukishima immediately glared at him. “I can’t believe you just did that,” Yamaguchi decided to let out his laugh anyway. Tsukishima rolled his eyes and sighed. It was worth a shot, he guessed.
*****
Tsukishima saw Yamaguchi at the other side of the stadium waving him down. He grimaced, clearly recalling that he told them not to come and watch him play for the Sendai Frogs. Both Yamaguchi and Yachi insisted but, trying to deter them, he didn't bother to say when and where his game was. Of course, they found out anyway. To be honest, he didn't want them to come because he knew they would just embarrass him.
“Yamaguchi! Yachi!” yelled out Koganegawa with a large wave. When they got there, Kyoutani greeted them with a nod.
Tsukishima was right. He blushed, knowing they shouldn’t have come. Not when Yachi was wearing a Sendai Frogs jersey with his name on it. He groaned with a strong inkling that Yamaguchi probably talked her into wearing it.
He thought his crushing years were over. But after some food and dessert a couple hours post game, he still found himself averting his gaze from Yachi. Even Kyoutani raised his eyebrow, noticing Tsukishima’s behaviour.
And somehow after their evening drew to a close, Tsukishima found himself carrying Yachi home in his arms. With her head tucked in his shoulder and arms wrapped around his neck, he reluctantly decided to cherish this moment as long as it would last.
He stopped walking to shift her weight to a more comfortable position. "Are you sure you're okay?" asked Yachi.
"Yeah, we're almost there," he replied, wishing what he said wasn't true. "Next time, don't wear heels," he lied.
"Alright."
Yachi hugged him a bit tighter, Tsukishima realizing just how cold the air had gotten. He sighed, deciding he'd have to walk a little faster for her sake.
*****
Tsukishima never expected this to happen. His manager walked Yachi through the Sendai City Museum and later introduced her to Tsukishima and his co-workers.
“Hi Tsukishima!” Yachi said with a bright grin.
“You two know each other?”
“Yeah! Since our first year of high school!”
Since first year… It had been that long. But here she was in front of him, with an opportunity to work together again.
Yachi was hired on contract from her mom’s design firm. Over the next few months, he worked with her to put together pamphlets and posters for the museum. She didn’t need much help from him. The company gave her quite a few resources for her to use. But he took the opportunity to sit and work beside her, saying that it would be much easier for her to ask for help that way.
As time went on, it seemed like they got even closer than they were in high school. Tsukishima would tease her whenever she started to overthink about her work, noting that some things didn’t change. But she would give him a jab right back at him, telling him to get back to work.
But there were times when Tsukishima would see glimpses of hope - glimpses that Yachi was actually interested in him. Normally, he would pick up on people’s emotions easily, nut because he had been pining for so long, he doubted his judgement, knowing it could be clouded by his feelings.
One day, Yachi suddenly started crying. “It’s nothing,” she told him. “Just forget about it.” But he hugged her and told her she could share with him if she wanted.
At first she mumbled her response. When Tsukishima asked again, she clearly replied this time. “I’ll miss you.”
It was the end of her contract. He wasn’t looking forward to this either. But from the way she was crying, he wondered if perhaps she did have feelings for him.
Tsukishima began to analyse back to the past months, looking for clues he might have missed. There were days where she placed her hand over his during his rough days. Another day she placed a hand on his cheek when he was distraught over the results of his work. She would also hug him whenever she thanked him for his help.
At first, he thought close friends would do that too. But as she sniffed, trying to hold back her tears, he wondered if he was special.
“Yachi,” Tsukishima asked, “can I test something?”
“What do you mean?” she replied, wiping her tears away with her sleeve, trying not to touch her mascara.
“Just push me away if you don’t like it.”
 Yachi blinked a few times, not knowing what to do, but she shyly nodded afterwards.
Tsukishima drew his face close to hers, tentatively stopping a couple inches in front of her. Yachi’s eyes grew but after a moment between them, they fluttered shut.
Tsukishima, on the other hand, took a step back to just stare at her. She actually liked him. Yachi caught him wide-eyed, covering his mouth. “What was that?” Yachi said as she pounded his chest with her fist.”
“I-”
“That was so embarrassing!” Yachi exclaimed as she hid her face in her hands. “Why would you do that?”
Tsukishima groaned, not wanting to have to explain why he was being so… stupid. “Well, I’ve liked you for so long that I… was surprised.”
“What???” Yachi freaked out. It seemed like she didn’t expect his admission either. “Just how long?”
He mumbled.
“What?”
“Since first year.”
Yachi's eyes grew wide. Of course her reaction was expected. Who would be pining for the same girl for so long?
Tsukishima hid his face, embarrassed from admitting his feelings.
“So… aren’t you going to kiss me?” Yachi shyly asked after calming down a bit.
“Mmm… maybe a bit later,” he said to tease, but a blush still covered his cheeks and still looking elsewhere.
“What?”
“You can wait, right?”
“Ugh Tsukki!!!”
“Kei.”
“What?”
“You can call me that instead.”
Yachi was dumbfounded. With his initial embarrassment gone,Tsukishima started to have fun teasing her, but he noticed a sly smile growing on her face.
“You can wait, right?”
Tsukishima was caught off-guard, then laughed. He couldn’t help but think how cute she was and put an arm around her as they left the museum.
*****
I hope you liked it. I feel like I got lazy in the end. lol.
FYI, the New Year’s college scene was based off of this translated post from Twitter for New Years 2020
General Taglist: @dorkyama @the-black-birb @hqprotectionsquad @nagichi-boop @moonaaluna @muffins-puffins (let me know if you want to be added or removed)
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oonajaeadira · 3 years
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Banshee - Have you ever had a paranormal encounter? If so, do tell!
Fantasy -  What’s your favorite mythical character?
Superstitious - Are you superstitious (or perhaps just a little stitious)?
I didn’t see if you had reblogged this but I’m sending anyway! 🥰 @fictitious-little-stitious
lol I did post it last night, but I'm happy to answer more!!! Thank you, lil 'stitious!!!
Fantasy -  What’s your favorite mythical character?
I answered this for Hazel: LOKI! I kinda fell in love with him based on an illustration and it kinda snowballed from there.
Superstitious - Are you superstitious (or perhaps just a little stitious)?
I have two stage superstitions and two driving superstitions.
Stage superstition #1: If final dress is awful, opening night will be amazing and vice versa. I have often come home in tears after a wonderful last dress, dreading the next day. It's not always true. But it is enough of the time that it sticks with me.
Stage superstition #2: I always have the script in the building. The day it's not somewhere--in my bag, in my dressing room--is the day I'll overthink and a line will escape me and I'll have no way to check. Always have the script.
Driving superstition #1: I have a little bone fishing hook hanging from my rear-view mirror. It's meant to symbolize a safe journey. I started touching it every time I started up my car because I liked how it felt, but now it feels weird if I don't touch it. So it's become ritual now, like if I don't, something bad might happen.
Driving suppression #2: Never play Xanandu in the car. It's my favorite album of all time and I've gone through a tape and two CDs. I used to joke that I've listened to it so many times that I'll probably die listening to it, so I've freaked myself out and I just don't listen to it in the car.
Banshee - Have you ever had a paranormal encounter? If so, do tell!
Gonna put this under a cut 'cause it got loooooooonnnnnngggg
First of all, I have to say that I am a firm agnostic, and although I don't believe in the zodiac, I hold to my identity of Gemini, being of two minds about everything. I both believe and do not believe in everything. I like the idea of ghosts, I latch on to accounts and try to dig into them for both truth and debunking. My romance soul says they are possible and yet my science brain tells me they do not exist.
In my life I've lived in two places I've considered to be possibly haunted.
1. My childhood home.
When I was little, I often had a reoccurring dream of an old man walking in circles in our basement in the night and then just wandering up the stairs, looking around in bewilderment, making his way up to the top floor and looking at me while I slept and wondering who I was.
My sister's room was over the living room. And she told me that sometimes she'd get up in the middle of the night and hear talking. I didn't think anything of this because I heard talking too--my parents' room was below mine and sometimes they'd talk in bed. But she'd hear talking in the middle of the night when nobody'd be awake. She'd look out the window and wouldn't see light spilling out below, just dark. But she'd put her ear to the floor and she could hear some words--a man and a woman, not our parents--and heard names. She new they were called Mary and John.
Years later when we were adults, my parents sold the house and went to the bank to the safety deposit box where they kept the title. They hadn't looked at it since they put it in there decades ago. And it had been owned by quite a few families, but the oldest title was held by a Mary and John.
2. My old apartment.
I used to live in a century-old apartment building that used to be a long-stay hotel. (There's still bullet holes in the mail room from the 20s when there was a bootlegging raid.) I lived there in like 4 different apartments over the years. But in the last one, I had dreams of spirits watching me. Their faces were kinda freaky, but they didn't bother me. I'd just wake up in a dark room and tell them politely to go away and then wouldn't have the dream for another few months or so. Every once in a while, the dog next door would bark at my wall and I'd just look in that corner and politely ask whomever was there to please leave and the dog would stop barking. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but I just wanted the dog to be quiet, so I'd just ask, in case there was really someone there. It just became a thing.
Then there was the day my uncle died. Donny was a wiseass and he smoked like 3 packs a day. He'd worked with asbestos a lot in his life. We don't have cancer in our family, but he was putting himself on that track. I liked Donny a lot, but I was the only one of the nieces and nephews that wasn't able to go and say goodbye to him before he died. He died in the morning. That night I was on the phone with another friend of mine that lived in the same building. I had pictures in all my rooms, not nailed to the wall, just above the windows, propped up against the sill. I heard something tumble in the bathroom and when I went to look, I saw that the picture in there had fallen. No matter, it was a paint-by-numbers and that room was hot and humid, maybe the cardboard just got weak and it slipped off the sill. I told my friend on the phone what happened and she's like, "you know your apartment is haunted, right?" Because I'd told her the story of the dog and my dreams of the watchers. And I'm like, "maybe, who can say?" Then I go into the kitchen and sit on the counter, and I'm actually looking at the picture in its frame on top of the window in my dining nook and watch it as it tips forward from the wall and tumbles to the floor. My friend's all like, "what was that?" And I'm like, "fucking Donny. He's probably just stopping by on his way out." Do I believe that? Not fully. I like the possibility though. But I have no other good explanation for any of that at all.
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tiredcowpoke · 3 years
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TITLE: Blank Spots [20] PAIRING: (Somewhat pre-established) Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader, could be seen as an OC. REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: After waking up at the base of a steep incline and nearly freezing to death, you stumble upon a group of strangers who swear up and down that they know you. WARNINGS: Some creative license for amnesia. Violence, kidnapping.  NOTE: Chapter 20, damn. lol I’m not feeling 100% about this chapter but I wanted to get something out this weekend. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy.      TAG LIST: @on-my-way-to-erebor / @otherthingstoreid @ireallyhonestlydontcare @elanisha @darlingsdevil @cirillamylove @bunnyreese12 @rollyjogerjones @callmemythicalminx @r4reland @itsnothingwithoutchaos
You knew there was some conflict in you about how everything turned out, the hurt Arthur caused still lingering somewhat but you knew you had to take that as it were.
Yet, you felt good. It felt good to finally cross that point with him--again. Perhaps things weren’t the same as they were in your memory, how sure you were in your relationship with him. However, things weren’t the same since Blackwater. You knew that even when your memory had been worse than it was currently, struggling to remember names and faces, let alone whole relationships. A part of you felt like you may never fully remember your relationship with Arthur, but you felt like you had finally taken a step in the right direction with your relationship with him currently. 
Admittedly, it had been a little difficult to leave the small privacy of that beach where you had kissed him a couple days ago. To return to camp, to the dilemmas and course of normalcy you had found within. As normal as a group of outlaws could get, at least. For a while, you weren’t sure how Arthur wanted to approach this development, if it was worth telling people. You had realized that it would just be announcing what they already knew, but...well, maybe you were just overthinking that. 
Really, it seemed like Arthur just took it in stride. Too exhausted to make a thing out of it, or if there was a point to doing so. A part of you was relieved. 
Still, you did catch a couple eyes at the added bounce to your step, and the lingering touches when Arthur would seek you out as he was starting to move about on his own a little more frequently. He seemed to avoid outright public affection, something you had caught onto pretty quickly, but the two of you weren’t exactly hiding it. Still, nobody really felt the need to comment on it much outside of the odd question, which you found yourself not really minding. 
It felt like you were allowed to let it go where it may without getting caught up in old expectations. Though, you weren’t too sure on where Arthur’s head was at, but he didn’t seem overly disappointed over that. You’d just have to trust him to tell you if he had an issue with anything. 
Despite everything that happened to him, Arthur eventually seemed to return to his normal self after a while. A little thicker in beard and with a stiffer shoulder, but otherwise he seemed to have gathered himself back up after the whole ordeal with the O’Driscolls. You were greatly relieved at that, as much as you knew he would have to get back to gang business and what that entailed. 
So, you weren’t too surprised to find him approach you one late afternoon with news that he had business in town with Bill and some other gang members. 
“You sure you got the strength for whatever that will be?” you asked, Arthur rolling his previously injured shoulder somewhat. 
“‘Bout as much as I’ll need,” he replied, “Can’t stay here forever, I gotta get back to what needs doin’.” 
“I know,” you replied, giving him a small smile, “I just don’t want you hurting yourself again. I don’t think anybody can take you stuck in bed for another couple weeks.” 
“Myself included,” he returned with a small huff. 
As much as you had tried to cover it with a touch of humor, you really did worry he might injure himself again by getting back out there so soon. At all, really. You knew what type of life he led, what they all led, and the chance of a bullet to the skull was always high. You could remember the way Arthur had fallen off his horse that night, how he barely was able to move his legs to get to his cot. You had struggled with the feeling at the time, but you knew that regardless of how everything had developed after, you didn’t want to see him like that again. 
Yet...well, there was always a chance that you just might. 
“You’ll be safe?” you asked after a moment, glancing at him. Arthur shifted, glancing down for a moment before meeting your gaze. 
“Hate to be the one to say it, but I ain’t afforded that luxury. Not with this life.” 
He did have a point, as much as you didn’t like that answer. 
“Hey, I’m gonna be fine,” Arthur said after a moment, “Bill’s probably just got some lead, nothin’ too complicated.” 
“Because everything lately has been so easy…” you muttered, stepping into his side as Arthur reached out to wrap an arm around your shoulder, a small grin touching your face when you felt him press a kiss to the side of your head. 
“It’s gonna be fine.” 
“Alright,” you replied with a nod, letting out a small sigh as you wrapped an arm around his back somewhat, “You know what you’re doing. Just be careful--for my sake, if anything.” 
“I’ll try,” he replied, squeezing you to his side a little before releasing the embrace. You turned to face him once he had done so, watching as he seemed to glance off toward the horses for a moment before turning back toward you. 
“Been thinkin’ we should head out to get the last of that treasure map,” he said after a moment, pulling a small grin from you, “Get outta here for a bit.” 
“I’d like that,” you said with a nod, “Let all this play out first, though.” 
“Yeah…” he replied, giving you a small grin of his own as you squeezed his arm somewhat before he turned to head out toward the horses. 
You were worried, but you couldn’t fight the inevitable with Arthur turning his attention back to the gang. Perhaps it was a touch selfish, but you also knew everything that had happened had shaken you up some. Still, you were going to have to let that go. Some of it. You knew you had questions and a distrust of Micah that stemmed from what he did to you on that mountain and now what happened with Arthur. 
That was a touch subject to approach, yet one you knew you would have to mention to Arthur eventually. It was just...hard to talk about. There was Micah himself, but even the memory of it filled you with such dread and fear. 
Still, it couldn’t continue to go unsaid. 
“Glad to see that fight you two was havin’ is cleared up,” a familiar voice from behind you said, turning to glance over your shoulder to see Abigail standing there. 
She stood there with a cup of coffee, giving you a small smile as you let out a small huff. 
“Yeah, and then some,” you replied as she walked up to stand beside you as she finished off her beverage. 
“If only I could get John to see some damn sense. Ain’t from lack of tryin’,” she said around a sigh, you giving her a small nod. 
It wasn’t the same screaming matches you heard from Dutch and Molly, and lord had those only gotten worse, but you knew Abigail and John had their moments in camp. Really, when you saw Abigail storming out from that tent they shared, you knew to give her some space. Still, you weren’t witness to the specifics of their relationship--well, if you had, it didn’t matter with your memory now. 
“Grimshaw’s sayin’ Pearson needs a hand with dinner,” Abigail said after a moment, “Figure two hands might get us eatin’ all the quicker.” 
Honestly, that didn’t sound too bad. You would need the distraction. You followed her out toward the food wagon once she had gotten her fill of the moment she had walked in on between you and Arthur. Still, even with the chopping of the vegetables and meat, you still couldn’t really shake this feeling that lingered at your back. You just...well, you were worried. That was what it was, and you were sure you would end up feeling foolish for it when they all returned back to camp. 
Thankfully, your partial absentmindedness didn’t cost you a finger or injury. Though, you were pulled from your thoughts when you felt Abigail touch your shoulder, a look of mild irritation crossing her expression. 
“Think I can wrap up the rest,” she said, “Think you can Jack for me? I think he’s playin’ in the woods near the edge of the river. Maybe the boy’ll listen to you quicker while I finish here.” 
You let out a soft chuckle, passing her the last of the food you had to chop up. “We’ll see, but sure.” 
Rinsing your hands in one of the washbasins nearby, you headed out toward the mouth of the river near the path leading out of camp. You didn’t see any sign of him from where you stood--he wasn’t tossing rocks into the water or drawing in the dirt with a stick like he usually was. You could feel a small twist to your gut, hoping that he was just in the tree line and you wouldn’t have to wander off to find him. 
You dropped down onto the bank, following it along until you were able to step up and into the trees. You paused for a moment, listening for anything before walking further in. 
“Jack?” you called out, pausing in your walk, “Your mama’s looking for you!” 
Silence. More twisting in your gut. You really hoped he was just playing a game not wandered off or…
You moved with more purpose into the trees, calling his name once more before you heard some movement nearby. However, as you did so, you heard a muffled cry that sounded from very close nearby. Yet, as you turned to look in that direction, something very solid and hard jabbed into the centre of your back. The pain radiated up your spine, settling hard in your kidneys as you felt your knees hit the ground. 
“Stay down!” an unknown voice hissed, your eyes lifting as someone stepped out from around a tree. He had his hand pressed against Jack’s mouth as he squirmed in his grasp. Instantly, you tried to stand up but you felt a hard kick to your side in retaliation. 
“I said ‘stay down!’” the voice behind you said, hissing the words between his teeth before the man holding Jack spoke up. 
“The hell’re you doin’?” he demanded, “We was just to get the kid.” 
“What? Have her run back into that camp and tell everybody what happened? We’ll have them all on us ‘fore we can even get anythin’ outta this.” 
What?
“We ain’t got time for this,” the man in front of you replied, “Take ‘em both.” 
You heard Jack let out a cry behind the hand over his mouth, however you didn’t really get the chance to fully process what was happening before you felt a solid hit to the back of your head. Instantly, you heard ringing in your ears, before another hit sent you into darkness. 
                                                            ***
Your head was pounding, feeling the sway of a horse under you as you could feel the strain of your arms tucked behind your back. Blinking open your eyes, you saw the ground under you moving with the quick strides of the horse you were currently slung over the back of. You took in the breath before the events from before flooded into your head, causing you to jerk your head up. You could see passing trees as you were rode down some large pathway, seeing another rider ahead with an arm wrapped around Jack. 
Twisting, you tried to see if you could roll off the horse but the tug at your shoulder told you that you were secured to the back of the saddle. Shit, no. 
You thought about yelling, screaming, trying to see if anybody would catch on but with how fast they were riding up the path and how empty the area seemed to be, you knew it would only just make things worse. 
It wasn’t long before you caught sight of the large structure at the end of the path--a plantation house. You squirmed as they stopped outside the steps, hearing Jack let out a yell as he was pulled from the horse in front of you. The rider of the one you were on the back off slipped off his saddle as the doors to the house opened, your world swaying somewhat as you were pulled to the ground. 
You grunted as your face hit the gravel, likely leaving a couple cuts as you grit your teeth against the sharp and familiar headache. 
“I told you to only get the boy,” a woman’s voice said from the stairs above you. 
“She walked in on us,” you heard the man holding Jack say as you felt a pair of hands grip at your arms, hauling you to your feet. “Guess we’ll have to see what we can do with this one.” 
“Damn useless,” the woman replied, your gaze lifting to see her beckon your captors inside. You nearly tripped over your own feet as you were shoved forward, catching the steps before being dragged up them and into the house. 
You could hear Jack crying, a part of you wanting nothing more than to comfort the kid but you knew it would be only so fleeting if you didn’t get out of here. 
“Bronte’s men are coming within the hour to pick up the boy,” she continued, “I don’t see why they would take her too, but I’ll have to figure something out. Separate them.” 
“What the hell does that mean? Who is that?” you demanded, despite yourself, “H-He’s just a little boy! Please!” 
“Shut her up,” the woman demanded, sounding much like she was done with the situation as Jack called your name. 
“It’s going to be okay, Jack!” you called out as he was carried away from you toward another room. You heard a chuckle behind you, a tug on your arm turning you roughly toward the stairs leading to the upper floors. 
“Sure is,” your captor stated, “Boy’s goin’ to Saint Denis, but you? We’ll get you sorted out.”
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pollosky-in-blue · 2 years
Note
4. 9. 26. 35. 36. 64. 70. 89.
Hello anon! I see you're back again! You have that way of punctuating each ask number with periods, and the familiarity is nice to see ♥︎
4. What do you think about most?
Moving out, JS, school, my brother growing up, books I never get to write and the weather.
9. Ever had a poem or song written about you?
Surprisingly, yes! I've had two poem books (very short) written for me by my grandmother's brother (so a grandfather) when I used to be a toddler. Grandpa and I drew together when we lived with him in Dhaka. Ah I miss those days! They're in Bangla, and I'm very bad at translating poems, otherwise I'd have put up some here. But here are a few anyways
চারুর জন্য ছড়া // Rhymes for Charu and চারুর জন্য আরো ছড়া // More Rhymes for Charu
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26. Are you happy with the person you've become?
Well, in some ways yes, but in others, not quite. I guess although I've grown out of plenty of things and fit into some good more, there's more becoming for me to do :')
35. To you, what is the meaning of life?
To make it to the end as finely, humanely as possible. Live with enough substance to have left an honourable mark on something. Make a few hours count for someone you love. To have given as much as your blood lets into what you love to do most. But you know, these are all meanings of living, not life. I realise that now that I've written these down. Perhaps the meaning of life is to live? I don’t know for sure. Whatever it is, it must be pretty compelling for us to have all made it so long.
36. Define Art.
I shall be incoherent here, and very unreasonably and possibly silly but bear with it and sorry in advance. To me, there is no such thing as art, truly, because to put any piece of work in a stricture that defines it as 'art', and another thing as not doesn't feel right. How do people generally define art? As something pleasing to look at, something that has meaning enough to ground it to earth or elevate it in space. Both these are dependent on perspective. To you, perhaps a small, crooked and ugly doodle of a snake on the corner of a page may hold meaning and rapture enough to be kept in a box forever. But to me it would be just a scrap of paper, scribbled on. Although that doesn't quite touch the point, you see how art is so much debatable and malleable according to point of view? No little sketch deserves to be not called art, just because it doesn't follow the rules of humanoid, anatomical ratio and it still doesn't look trippy enough to be a surreal piece. No portrait, however pristine can be denied as art even if it didn't have any inherent meaning to it. Sounds contradictory but yes. I hope this ramble didn't cauterize any brain cells, amen.
64. Where is your best friend?
One is in Canada, she moved this month.
One is a district away for holiday, in Chittagong.
One is just a few blocks from here,
Probably curled up in sleep since long.
70. Are you the kind of friend you'd want to have as a friend?
Honestly, I'm at loss. I know too much of how I am inside, and too little of my exterior appearance to like me as a friend. I guess I'd rather enjoy being listened to (well I can listen to close people for hours on end if they want to) and understood, but I'm not sure if I could stand me lol! But for the understanding only, yeah perhaps. It's a selfish motive, and it's the only one, so in the end, things probably might not work out. I'm overthinking this yikes.
89. What would be a question you'd be afraid to tell the truth on?
"What do you love the people around you for?" and "Did you really steal a big fat 30 dollar roll of golden ribbon from Arts class in third grade?" Y-yes I did-
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creativichee · 3 years
Text
A writing thing im struggling with is when I see a cool visual media narrative THING and it inspires me, but boy is it hard to take the use the tools of visual media and translate them to written word.
In visual media you can use a ton of subtle things to suggest things to the audience. Like if i want to foreshadow that a villain character will make a face turn, theres visual symbolism i can load into that character. I can dress them in the same colors protagonists wear, as a basic example. Yes, i can still do this in written word, but - the nature of writing is that if you went through the bother of describing something it probably has importance, and as soon as I point out this visual foreshadowing cue, it is no longer a subtle thing but now a big obvious thing. Another example- in visual media, a glance between characters can say a lot without explicitly stating anything. Accomplishing that in writing is a little tougher because you, the narrator, have to state SOMETHING to render that glance in the reader’s head. Another example- In a visual medium, if a character is fidgeting the viewer can interpret that as just a miniscule part of the rest of the scene, but if in a written piece you write that the character is fidgeting, now its being focused on, even if only for the one sentence.
I don’t think its an extremely difficult feat because surely other writers are accomplishing subtlety like this, perhaps its more of a personal writing weakness. Probably I’m just overthinking it lol.
Oh and the other visual media thing I like is the framing of a scene and I cant think of any significant ways to translate compositional theory to a written scene, other than general set design.
Anyway i’ll challenge myself to find ways of translating “impossible” visual media conventions into text and hey why dont you try it too.
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uservillanelle · 4 years
Text
Killing Eve ― 3x05 (Review)
All awards go to.... JODIE COMER! Again, with each episode the show gets more intense and pulls us even deeper into the story. THIS episode? Honestly, it was way too short, in my opinion. It’s something we all have been wondering about ever since season 1. Hell, maybe since episode 1. Don’t lie to yourselves. You DID wonder about Villanelle’s past and what she might’ve been like. I know I did. And I know, people aren’t happy because we didn’t get to see Eve or other characters, but this is no filler/bottle episode. This is where we separate Villanelle from Oksana. This is where Oksana awknowledges Villanelle for who/what it is. A creation. Worst enemy. The Darkness. And I’m here to delve into that darkness. I hope you are ready for this.
Grizmet
Oksana finally arrives home. She enters the house with caution and of course there are pictures on the wall. Apparently her mother married some stranger. All of the photos are of Tatiana and Grigoriy. There’s also one of Grigoriy and Bor’ka. No other siblings. What does that tell us? No whole family photos. No Oksana, either. I think most of us have photos of ourselves hanging on the walls as well. But there has to be other photos of your family members too, right? Yeah. There are none. Who places at least 3 pictures of yourself on the wall in front of the entrance of the house? Am I overthinking it? Probably. I’ll let you ponder about it some more and hopoefully I’ll come back to this when addressing Tatiana further.
I just love how Oksana goes around the house without any care really while touching all kinds of things. She has to touch the cup or the pot with food, open the fridge. She explore with touch, instead of just looking or sensing it in any other way. That alone says a lot already and we are only few minutes into the episode.
I’ll be honest, I was confused for a while about the whole family thing, especially the siblings. We know for sure that Oksana has a brother, Pyotr. Bor’ka is Oksana’s half-brother, since he calls Tatiana mom. Now, Fyodor, on the other hand, is Bor’ka’s half-brother, but he is a complete stranger to Oksana and Pyotr. Remember, Grigoriy married 3 times. Besides Fyodor seems same age, if not older, than Oksana and Pyotr. It all makes sense, right? And then there’s Yula, Fyodor’s girlfriend. I think we just covered it. I really hope I didn’t confuse any of you lol! If I made a mistake in here, please let me know, since it was very confusing at first!
Bor’ka
Obsession truly runs in the family, just like anger problems. Scenes with Villanelle and children were always so interesting to me. Mostly because their interactions almost every single time were genuine, honest. Children have no filter. They say what they feel and what they think and so does Oksana. As long as she feels like the other person is being honest as well. In this case, it’s Bor’ka. He’s the first one who interacted with Oksana this episode. “Do you speak English?” “Elton John is English.” “Yeah, he is”. What a better way to talk about English than to include one of English legends like Elton John? He’s not only mentioned, but Oksana gets to dress up like him, talk about what kind of food he’d eat while being in different countries AND having a scene with Crocodile Rock! I mean THAT scene... for someone who doesn’t do well in groups and is socially awkward, I could relate to Oksana SOO much lol! Her disturbed face when everybody started dancing... if that ain’t us all! Anyways, back to the obsession. We all got them. Elton John just happens to be Bor’ka’s obsession. It’s also a way of coping with everything. Music is probably the best escape for me. As well as Killing Eve, of course. So it’s the same for him and really, it was a huge theme this episode too. Elton John is what connected Bor’ka and Oksana in a way. It was the foundation of their bond as siblings. Their first interaction was about Elton John. And the very last one was about him too, including the note that Oksana left to him. “Go See Elton”
Anger problems
I’m going to say this now. ALL of Tatiana’s kids are scarred emotionally. And I believe she had A LOT to do with this. Now, all of them are suffering and dealing with the pain, but mostly, aggression in 3 different ways. Let’s start with Bor’ka, shall we?
We have seen this poor little guy bang his head against the wall and later on hit himself. We also found out that his mother, Tatiana, told him that he was stupid and that he embarrassed family because he didn’t win the food contest. Clearly the mother didn’t care about her son’s feelings, but her owns and thus she blamed him for “screwing up”. Yeah, it’s not the first time she acts the way she does with him. And suddenly there’s Oksana sitting and watching the scene from a distance, somewhat curious about what the two are talking about? She knows. And she knew all along. I mean who can know a mother better than her own daughter? Back to Bor’ka. Tatiana has been behaving like this with him for a whiiile. All I see here is a toxic mother who doesn’t care about her child. Just her own ego. Could this be an example of how Tatiana used to behave around Oksana? Perhaps. Why would they show the scene to us to begin with? Because Tatiana hasn’t changed and that is exactly how she “takes care” of her children. Instead of coming up to her son and telling him that he will succeed next time and that he shouldn’t worry about this, she blames him. It’s just how it works with her apparently. So this is what Bor’ka does. Blames himself, because his mother says so. And on top of that he’s too young to understand that he was being mentally abused by his own mother. This is how he handles aggression and regret and all those negative emotions. By lashing out on himself, thinking that HE is the problem.
Then there’s Pyotr. I’m so grateful for the scene he had with Oksana in that warehouse, while he was hitting the sofa. This ‘anger problem’ runs in the family and Oksana has accepted in long ago. That’s why she says it so... freely once her brother asks her. I just love how they chose to show us that Pyotr and Oksana chose opposite ways of dealing with anger. Like he said, Pyotr chooses to ‘beat the crap out of’ sofa so he doesn’t have to beat the crap out of people. Oksana, on the other hand, prefers to beat the crap out of people, because it feels so much better. And then there’s young Bor’ka who decides to beat the crap out of himself for that. So three different ways of coping and neither of those are healthy. All of Tatiana’s children are carrying scars that reflect her negative attitude towards children and above all, the abandonment of the mother. Pyotr then asks his sister “do you think that’s weird?” so either someone already told him that it was weird, or he thinks it might be so he chooses not to tell anyone about it. He’s not comfortable with his ‘anger problem’ wheres Oksana doesn’t see it as a big of a deal.
We all know how Oksana operates by now. Right now though, all I can think about is the conversation between Konstantin and Eve back in 2x03 where he tells her to stop chasing Villanelle. He states that hatred and anger are the only emotions she understands and when she’s feeling them, people around her get hurt. Doesn’t matter if she cares about them or not. So it’s safe to say Oksana was through those emotions PLENTY of times already to know how she needs to cope with them. Other emotions? Not so much. However, she’s starting to feel them more and more as the show progress and her character develops further.
Pyotr
Never knew Oksana had a brother and I am soo happy she does. Pyotr is the sweetest, honestly. What is interesting to me is that he doesn’t know his mother at all. At least not that part of her. He told Oksana how the villagers say Tatiana is a ‘saint’ to which she replies with “people here don’t know her” and in a way she’s also saying “you don’t know her.” Instead, he listens to his mother and tries to be there for her and do whatever she asks of him. Similarly as Oksana would do with her father, I’m guessing based on her last conversaion with her mother. 
This makes me think that Pyotr is probably the least affected child in the family. Yes, he is naive and therefore somewhat innocent and in a way I’m happy he didn’t get to see that side of his mother because it would only break him. And now that Oksana took care of the mother, Pyotr is free to be whoever he wants to and do whatever he likes to as well. I hope we will see him again, but at the same time I don’t.. because if he will at some point come back, he will most likely have to pay with his life and really, I don’t think he’s smart enough to trace back to Oksana, so he’s pretty safe. Plus he will have to take care of Bor’ka now too. I’m sure they will be just fine.
Like Mother Like Daughter
Finally we reached the most interesting part of this review. The more I think about it, the more clear it gets just how similar Tatiana and Oksana are. They are basically mirrors reflecting the worst in each other. And the difference between them is that Oksana knows who she is and she has accepted it. Tatiana? Not so much. She doesn’t like to be reminded of her own “darkness” which only reaches the surface whenever Oksana is involved. 
The first scene we had with them together is when Tatiana arrived home and Oksana was freaking the fuck out. Why? Why is she so scared of her mother? And then see Tatiana surprised for a second and there suddenly she’s putting up this act before here family, this performance of being relieved and happy that her lost daughter is alive. First time watching it, I didn’t really get it... but you could see it in Oksana’s face. Her defensive stance. The way she basically just stood there, disgusted by her mother’s little play while she had her hands gripped into fists just in case. That says A LOT. But we still don’t know the history. 
Even before their reunion, the first thing Oksana did was check out the photos on the wall. We saw most of them were of Tatiana, obviously. But one of them in particular caught my attention. The way she looked... I could literally feel the coldness radiating from her gaze and it just remindfed me of Oksana’s prison record photo that we’ve seen back in season 1. Let’s take a look and compare. 
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Is it just me, or do they have the same look? I see that “darkness” in them and what I also see is that they... are dead inside. Emotionless. They definitely don’t look like they are happy people. Because they weren’t. “I was not a happy person” “You were never a happy person” Oksana IS happier now than she has ever been. Mostly because Eve is alive and she’s the only one who truly knows her and accepts her.Who LOVES her despite her killing her best friend or ruining her boring marriage. Can we say that Tatiana ever found such a person? Guess it’s up for us to decide. Personally, I think she never had that kind of person. Yes, she was jealous of Oksana spending time with her father, probably having a closer, stronger bond with him than she ever had. So.. it evoked all those negative feelings inside of her and one day... she just decided to drop Oksana in an orphanage because why would she need someone who is ruining her relationship with her husband and who ultimately “ruined” her? It’s easier to just get rid of that person and continue living as you were before, except this time she had her husband AND her son all to herself, she was the only one who was “controlling” them now. Both, Tatiana AND Oksana love control. They love affecting people and having some kind of impact on them. But the thing is... they cannot be together in same place. There will ALWAYS be this competition of who’s better and who has more control and which one will end up being the family’s favorite, you know? So for Tatiana, the best way is to just kick Oksana out of her house, drop her wherever and pretend that she never existed. For Oksana? That’s clearly not enough because KNOWING that her mother is still alive, somewhere... doesn’t make her feel better. She can’t relax knowing that. That’s why she had to kill her. For Oksana, it’s either her or Tatiana and they just can’t exist together. So that’s what she did, tied the loose ends once and for all and did her both brothers a big favour. She ended that endless manipulation both Bor’ka and Pyotr was under. A parent should NEVER behave like that with their children so by the end of it, I wanted Oksana to kill her. Because that’s the only way SHE knows and we know that she is for sure dead and gone. The toxic snake is finally dead.
I just rewatched the “game night” scene where the family is gathered around the table and are playing a card game. In the teasers they included “I know you’re a killer” line and I was convinced that the family somehow found out about Oksana being an assassin but this is only a game. Unless...? It’s interesting that Oksana was the one accused of being a killer while the actual killer was Tatiana. Isn’t it a bit suspicious? I’ve seen a couple of people think that Tatiana might be the one who actually killed Oksana’s father and is only blaming her for “taking” him. Not only that, but they both were sitting across from one another, facing each other. The face off prevails yet again. Tatiana looks almost... proud that she eneded up being the killer. And Bor’ka was like “Mom, you murdered me.” And all Tatiana said was “I had no choice, Bor’ka”  Sure, it’s a game, I know and maybe I’m looking into it way too much, but she didn’t care much about the fact that she murdered her own son. Who’s the say she wasn’t an actual killer? Someone who not only got rid of her own daughter and dropped her into an orphanage but got rid of her husband as well?
So there’s a scene with Oksana talking to Grigoriy about her mother. Everything has been going smoothly until they reached the part of them talking about how she and her mother are “different” now. Grigoriy doesn’t know anything about Oksana. The fact that they included Tatiana herself in this scene by showing her looking through the curtains and minutes later coming out to offer her husband tea is a good way to tell that she doesn’t like or want Oksana to talk to her husband and most likely affect him like she affected her own father once? She interrupted the moment and in thus she took that power back, control. She made the moment about herself and asked Oksana to go back inside since she also has something for her. So she obviously cooked up this story for her husband and the rest of the family about how Oksana died and she was so hurt she’s crying every night because of it. I’m not sure if she cries at all, but if she does, it’s definitely not about “losing” her daughter.
Then there’s a scene at the festival. I really loved the conversation between Oksana and Bor’ka and how he told her that their mom called him stupid for letting their family down. I mean, we knew Oksana was suspicious of Tatiana that entire time and did not buy her bullshit for a second, but now that her half-brother confirmed it, the look Oksana gives her mother.... is straight up death sentence. There are several scenes of Villanelle giving her death glares to people before she actually kills them. This was one of them and probably the most powerful one. She was already planning to kill her. Right there and right then. And again, with phenomenal soundtracks.. they used “I see Darkness in You” and this has to be the most chilling, dark soundtrack perfectly fitting the scene. It’s so... so matching the feelings and I loved it so much. 
The soundtrack continued even after they switched to another scene meaning that the whole “feel” of the previous scene was contining. It did. Oksana put up a small show for her mother the very last time. She did something that she knew would annoy her mother. This was just a final test. To see if her mother would pass. She didn’t. It’s heartbreaking to think that the only sign of affection Oksana received during this last scene is Tatiana wiping her face clean. And that’s after she basically BEGGED her to do it. Of course, let’s not forget the outfit that she gave to Oksana, but this was the only thing she managed to comfort her daughter with... only to kick her out seconds later. Tell her that she never belonged to this family and that she didn’t want her there. And after saying those things... she had the nerve to lean in and place a kiss on her forehead. What a master manipulator and a lair. 
She refused to admit that she has the same darkness that Oksana has despite her daughter begging only one thing... to be loved and to be admitted to that they were.. the same. Even when her daughter was literally breaking down in front of her, Tatiana stayed completely emotionless. What kind of person let alone PARENT acts this way? It was her time to go and Oksana knew it. Now, I’m disappointed that they didn’t show how Oksana killed her. I mean, she killed A LOT of people, and this... this kill is very important. I wanted to see it, I wanted Tatiana to suffer but I don’t think she cared much? Eve after Oksana told her that she needs to kill her, there was NO reaction on her face. Meaning.. she’s definitely up there in psychopathy scale. 
I honestly thought that if she was to meet her family again, it would be her father. However, now.. I get it. Mother being the one who all this darkness comes from makes more sense. A part of me really wanted for Tatiana to actually accept her daughter and just take her in... but if that happened, why would Oksana go back to Eve and the rest of the world? She probably wouldn’t and that’s why things had to change. She had to lose her family in order to go back to Eve, who also lost her family. Because now they are each other’s family.
Ending scene
This is something I’ve been DYING to talk about. This is...  my favorite Villanelle/Oksana scene in entire show and probably the best scene of Killing Eve for me. Jodie’s performance during this final scene did it for me. There is NO way in hell she’s not going to win her second Emmy for this episode and scene alone. I’ve always been amazed by Jodie’s acting but this scene was something else. Like, this woman has no limits and she keeps surprising me and I honestly don’t know if there is really any kind of limit for her. There isn’t. And the best part of this.. is that Jodie had to film THIS specific scene before any other scene in this episode. Can you imagine how complicated this must be? To get into the right mind space before you actually shot any other scene? She’s lucky they let her have the headphones on which is suuuch a huge help, music always evokes feelings so picking the right song will do everything for you. And in this case, her listening to ‘Crocodile Rock’ once again.. knowing how much the song will mean to the family... it’s just heartbreaking. And she pulled it off... perfectly. She did it and that’s the true talent of an actor. I have no words to describe how mindblowing and phenomenal her acting was during that scene.
I would just like to point out one more thing, which, by now, might be obvious? Oksana is NOT a psychopath. I’m not the only one who says it and even though I’m not a psychologist or anything, she’s not a psychopath for me. She was brainshed about being one and believing she is one, believing her family is dead, ect. She’s more of a sociopath than a psychopath, since psychopaths arew born and sociopaths are made. Sure, she might’ve been born like this, to some extend, but the majority of all the crap she had to go through? It’s mostly her mother, the abandonment, the lack of love and care... it all builds up, you know. On top of that, like I said, she believed she was one and that there’s something wrong with her. So let’s just keep it in mind.. she’s not a psychopath. If this scene on the train didn’t change your mind about it... I don’t know how to help you see her in different way. She clearly is capable of feeling things and she might not be used to those.. but she is feeling them and that’s probably the biggest confirmation of that.
The first time I watched it.. I was completely overwhelmed by Jodie’s performance.. seeing all those emotions just wash over her face in matter of SECONDS... it’s so powerful and telling. It’s like... the past two seasons she was so desperate to FEEL all those things... wanting to feel them and even pushing herself into doing that and now.. she’s trying to supress them, because clearly they are way too much for her and she’s so overwhelmed herself. The similar scene to this? Is the bathroom scene in Amsterdam back in 2x04. That time she was smiling while having a break down because she realized she was able to feel things... that Eve made her feel those things and now she’s feeling.. the worst kind of feelings a person could go through. The anger... the regret, the hearbreak of having your mother reject you all over again... and of course the final realization that... theres no family for her anymore. And this brings me to my next point... Jodie breaking the 4th wall. First time I watched it, I didn’t even realize it.. just because I was so into the moment and Oksana was all over the place and I just didn’t catch it quick enough as it lasted only for a split second but it DID happen... just look at her. 
Breaking the 4th wall
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We’ve seen it plenty of times before. Those of you who have seen Fleabag, Phoebe is just a master of that. However, breaking the 4th wall in that case is for comedy purposes. THIS? This is something deeper, darker, more meaningful. When I first saw this photo and when I actually looked at it.. at HER looking at ME... I got the chills. Breaking the 4th wall is a very bold and dangerous decision and in some ways I’m wondering why it lasted only for a second? Like some of the viewers probably didn’t even notice because she was just looking all over the place and her gaze lingered on US for a split second only. I mean, if it lasted longer.. if the scene faded or like zoomed in her face while she was eyeing the audience.. that would’ve been even more powerful and would have bigger impact? But the way I see this... is that Oksana is only starting to realize that Villanelle not who she is and that she created this persona that... ended up being her worst enemy? And now she’s becoming more aware of it? I did a bit of research on the 4th wall and I found these two interesting lines:
“ When you break the fourth wall, you creep into the secret mind of a character. Ever notice how many times it is used with psychopaths?“ (x)
This got me thinking. Not only we got to see Oksana in such a vulnerable place, trying to supress her emotions WHILE at the same time allowing herself to feel them.. but we also got THAT glimse of her.. of her looking at US and in a way saying “see? this is who I am now.” yet it lasts only for a split second, so that revelation only lasts this long... it’s marking the beginning of her new path. I’m not sure if this was even intended since it was so short, but a choice like this... it just had to be. And there has to be a reason why they did it the way they did. We’ve had other vulnerable and private scenes with Villanelle/Oksana all by herself... no mask on. But this, this is something more in depth now. It’s like.. in some way Oksana realized that all this “story” and her life up to this point was a lie. So this makes the whole scene a breaking point. They crossed a line here and I am soooo interested to see where they go with Oksana next. I’m not sure if there is Villanelle anymore, but that’s the thing.. what will Oksana decide to do next? Based on the promo for next episode we see her pretending like nothing happened, especially with Konstantin, but then we also see a few stills of her being with messy hair and basically being A MESS which anyone would be in her place. So.. if ANYONE has any thoughts/theories or any other information about them possibly breaking the 4th wall and how does that impact the whole story and Oksana herself, please come talk to me about it!!
Now I’m starting to realize that the ending of previous episode and the fact that Oksana’s hiccups disappeared the second she got off the train is because of her fear for rejection. She already KNEW she might get rejected again and she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to meet her mother and was freaking out because she knew.. it would happen again, yet she went there anyways in hopes of things being different. Of her having one more chance to live a normal life and be loved. It didn’t turn out that way and that’s what she was most fearful of. 
Overall Thoughts
I mentioned it before and I will say it again: this episode was NEEDED. We had to get a peak of Oksana’s past and see where’s shes coming from. I’m not saying see all of this as an excuse for her behavior and the way she is. Those are just facts, explanation and me, personally, I wanted some kind of closure and you know, to find out something real about Oksana. And we did. 
This episode doesn’t mean that Villanelle/Oksana is somewhat superior to Eve. It’s not what this episode implies. It’s just that we needed this to see where Oksana’s head is at the moment and how she will deal with her family and how, eventually, that will affect her character. I would also love to see an episode about Eve and her backstory, but I feel it wouldn’t be the same, you know? I don’t think Eve had such a traumatizing past as Oksana did and that’s why it was important for us to see it. A very huge theme this season is family and that’s another reason to have this kind of episode about Oksana only and properly delve into the whole thing and get a real feel of what it was like and what it would be like to be a part of such family? So yeah, let’s just appreciate what we got and I still am not over Jodie’s performance. That last scene will probably haunt me forever. And that’s just how amazing of actress Jodie Comer really is. 
So in conclusion I’d like you remind y’all that you are always very welcome to hop in my ask box or simply message me directly so we could chat about the episode or the show itself, share our thoughts and theories, predictions and anything else really! 
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