#Writing all the coolest things in the tags is my curse and I can’t break it

[iwillbeinmynest]

Redcove Harvest - Bucky x Reader(f)   Chapter 2

Author’s Notes: Thank you all for the kind and enthusiastic response to the first chapter. Here’s chapter two for ya’ll. I hope you like it. I have a feeling this series with hit at least ten chapters but that means high word counts so hopefully that isn’t an issue.

AU: Farmhand!AU and SingleMom!Reader

Word Count: 

Notes/Warnings: (Notes are for the whole series) FLUFF, mentions of a past toxic relationship, a wild storm at the end, drama and a break-up, mentions of drinking, kids being adorable and ridiculous, kissing, romance and a tiny bit of angst if you look hard but nothing more than that of a Hallmark movie.

Masterlist     Series Masterlist

Bucky dropped Steve off at the store and then made his way to the address on the napkin. He turned off the highway onto a dirt road. He drove for about three miles or so down the tree lined drive. He took his final turn into an open but very busted gate. The fencing that lined the property was made of wood and was rotting in a few places. He figured that was probably on the list of things he might be doing.

He kept driving and saw that both of the fields on either side of him were overgrown. The fences were covered with saplings, vines and weeds. The fields beyond them were waist high with wheat colored grass and broom straw. He added that to his mental list. This dirt road ran for just over a mile and then he came into view of the house. It was a white two story with a wrap around porch. There was a large slab of old concrete that was being used to park cars. It held an orange tractor-mower, a Burgundy Ford and three electric kids cars. Two were pink and one looked like a little John Deer tractor.

Okay, so kids, that’s fun.

Bucky parked where he wouldn’t be in the way and got out of his truck. Two little girls, no older than ten, ran out of the front door laughing, each carrying their own basket. They didn’t even see Bucky and ran in the opposite direction, disappearing behind the house.

Bucky looked around the yard and saw a third field directly across from the front door. It was about forty yards from the porch but it was lush with greens and scattered bright colors. The field, that was also lined with a worn down fence, was a massive garden.

He could only pick out a few types of plants, though; tomatoes, cabbage, some kind of hanging gourd and (at his best guess) carrots.

A woman stood up from behind a thick patch of greens. Her hair was braided back and she had gardening gloves on. She was wearing a yellow tee-shirt, jeans and black rubber boots. She picked up a basket and started walking towards Bucky.

He slid his hands into his pockets and nodded his head her way. She waved briefly and closed the gate behind her.

Bucky could see her basket was full of freshly harvested radishes.

She reached a hand out, “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

Bucky shook it with another nod. “Bucky. Well, James. James Barnes but call me Bucky.” Bucky cursed in his head.

Y/N smiled. “Nice to meet you, Bucky.”

He froze at her smile. She was stunning. She had dirt on her cheek and a little sweat on her forehead but it only seemed to add to her beauty.

Her brow furrowed and she used a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she looked out over her property. “So, I need all of the fields cut and the fence lines cleaned. That will all probably take you at least a week. Then I’ll need the front field bailed but I have to rent the machine. And I’m sure you’ve noticed the fences are busted in several spots, we used to have cows, and one of Gavin’s bulls took out a few posts in a fit. And-”

“Wait, I’m sorry.” Bucky jumped in as politely as he could. “So, I have the job?”

“Isn’t that why you came?” She looked a little confused.

“But you don’t even know me.” He said.

Y/N smiled. “You come highly recommended, Sergeant.” She leaned on one leg and rested her basket on her hip.

Bucky ticked his head to the side and then it dawned on him. “Steve called you.”

She nodded once. “He did.” She grinned.

Bucky could have melted from the softness of her smile.

“You can run a field mower, right?” She asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, great. I put the keys on the seat for you.” She said over her shoulder as she began to walk away. “I’ll be in the yellow barn for a bit but if you can’t find me there give me a ring.”

“Will do.” He said to himself as he watched her walk away for a minute. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. He cursed Steve under his breath.

*   *   *   *

Bucky ran the mower for five hours. Somewhere in the middle Y/N called him back to the house for water and lunch but he insisted he only needed the water and that he’d take a bottle to-go if she had it, which she did.

Her property was huge, he guessed at least 250 acres. He didn’t even finish half of the first field. He pulled the Tractor back to where it was parked when he pulled up, then he tried to brush as much of the dust off of him as he could.

He could feel a sunburn on the back of his neck and decided that he’d either need a real hat or something to cover the skin above his collar.

He walked up the front steps and knocked on the door.

He heard little bare feet slapping on hardwood and running his way. The door opened and a little blonde baby was grinning up at him. “Hi!” She beamed.

“Hi,” He smiled back. “Is your mom around?”

“MOMMA!” She shouted.

A faint voice called back, “Comin’, baby!”

Bucky smiled.

The girl grabbed his hand. “I’m Lex. You should come inside. Momma doesn’t like it when the front door is left open.” She tugged on him and he conceded. Lex closed the door and then left him there.

Another girl walked past and when she noticed him her eyes grew wide. She very clearly had no idea who he was.

“Momma,” She started as she backed away.

Y/N appeared from around the corner and her gait faltered when she saw Bucky in the house. She put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders.

“Bucky, who let you in?”

Bucky had clearly crossed a line. He backed up, taking a step towards the door. “I’m sorry, Lex-”

Y/N rolled her eyes and sighed, relieved. “Of course, Lex.”

The daughter at Y/N’s side twisted and shouted as she disappeared, “Lex! You can’t just let people in the house!”

“But momma does it!” A faint Lex shouted back.

“Momma is the grown-up, she’s supposed to!”

“Gracie quit yellin’ at your sister!” Y/N turned back to Bucky. “I’m sorry. Kids.” She chuckled.

“I was just about to head out but wanted to know what time you’d like me tomorrow.” He confessed.

“Oh, umm.” She put her hands at her hips. “How about eight? I’ll pay you for a full day's work today but I’d figured that you could work eight to three for the most part. Weather pending, of course.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Great. Oh! Will you come write down your information so I can pay you?” She waived him over and headed down the hall.

Bucky followed as she turned a corner and ended up in a massive kitchen that spilled into the family room.

“I’ll pay you weekly at twenty two an hour if that works?”

Bucky’s eyes went a bit wide. “Yes, ma’am that works for me.”

She looked over at him as she grabbed a pen and pad from a small basket on the counter. “Stop calling me ‘Ma’am’. Just Y/N is fine.”

He nodded as he wrote down his name and number and address. “Will I get to meet your husband?” he’d meant it innocently.

Y/N turned and said, “He passed a few years ago,” with no tone whatsoever.

Bucky jerked his head up. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

She held a hand up and plastered on that gentle smile. “It’s fine. Really.”

Bucky handed her the pad and pen back.

“So, will a check work?” She asked.

“Sure, that’s fine.” He smiled back. He felt bad for bringing up her dead husband. He also felt bad knowing she had kids. “I appreciate the work.”

“I appreciate the help.”

There was an awkward pause so Bucky tried to fill it, “I’m sorry for coming into the house when I shouldn’t have. I didn’t mean to scare your daughter.”

“Who, Gracie? Nah, she’s tough. She was probably trying to decide if she was gonna grab a bat.” Y/N chuckled. “Lexie, on the other hand, needs some work on her stranger danger skills. She’s only five but that girl is another kind of fearless.”

Bucky laughed. “Well, hopefully I fall out of the stranger category, now.”

Y/n nodded. “Steve vouched for you so, I’d say you’re good.”

“Did he really call you?”

“He did.”

Bucky shook his head. He made a note to punch Steve real hard.

“I’ve known Steve since before Gavin died. He’s a good man. He mentioned you a lot. I’m glad to finally meet you.”

Y/N met Bucky’s eyes and they stayed like that for a moment.

“Mom! Lex won’t give me my Legos back!” Gracie yelled from up stairs. A smaller scream followed little running footsteps.

Y/N sighed and put a hand to her head. “I should take care of that.”

Bucky jerked from his spot against the counter. “Yeah, yeah. Of course, sorry. I’ll let you get to it.”

“Yeah, thanks.” She followed him to the front door. “Feel free to use whatever you need in the morning. If it’s on the property you can use it or fix it. I’ll have a full list of everything I need done, too. You’re welcome to leave for lunch whenever you’d like or eat up here.”

“Thank you.” He smiled at her as he stepped through the door. “Have a good evening.”

“You, too. Good night, Bucky.”

He jogged down the steps and hopped in his truck. He suddenly got the feeling he was going to love his job.

* * * * * * * * * *

Forever Tags:

@cassiopeiassky​ @sgtbxckybxrnes​

@itsanerdlife​ @beccaanne814​ 

@tanelle83​ @artemis521​

@elaacreditava​ @feelmyroarrrr​

@palaiasaurus64​ @the-stuttering-kiwi​

@destiel-artemis​ @sexyvixen7​

@girl-next-door-writes​ @coolest-avenger

@xoxabs88xox​ @youclickedthislink​

@also-fangirlinsweden​ @widowvinter​

@daughterofthenight117​ @drayshadow​

@archy3001​ @miraclesoflove​

Redcove Tags:

@cavillanche​ @bi-bucky-barnes

@mylifeiscrazy0423​ @dumblani

@thefridgeismybestie​ @csigeoblue​

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky romance #bucky barnes fanfic #Redcove Harvest #my fic #iwillbeinmynest #Farmhand! AU #farmhand! Bucky

[drawlfoy]

The Wonders of Ohio P.3

masterlist request guidelines

part 1    part 2 

pairing: draco x muggle!reader

request: no, this was my idea from forever ago

summary: american high school student y/n’s senior year is interrupted when a british exchange student comes to live with her. 

warnings: cursing

a/n: i’m being so unproductive since my ankle is hurting ughggghghghggh. also: if you like this muggle high school au please please check out @silversslytherin and @fallatyourfeet and @jhspuff as they all have fics that contain some element of this fic! i pulled a little inspiration from them so give them some love!! also second a/n because i worked on this about a month ag oand i’m back now: hey everyone! it’s been a while! it’s going to be a longgg time until i’m posting like i did over the summer, unfortunately, but i will do what i can to get some writing out in my free time.

word count: 2,350

tags: @eltanin-malfoy @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @fallatyourfeet @daintyyukhei @lunathepettuna @writerandee 

music recs: cherry hearts rac remix by the shins, everyone but you by young veins

Y/N took a sip of tea, staring down her mother.

“No. There’s no way. He wants nothing to do with me.”

“Y/N, sweetie, you’ve got to,” Mrs. Y/L/N said. She had a plate of semi-buttered toast in front of her, but she was paying no mind to it. Instead, her coral nails were tapping the surface of the coffee table. “He’s just in a bad place. He’ll feel better once you two are more connected.”

“I don’t know if going out for a day on the town is going to fix this,” Y/N argued. “He’s got some major issues that he needs to resolve on his own. We’d probably be doing him more of a favor by taking him to a therap--”

“Good morning, Draco,” her mother cut in cheerily despite the death glare she sent Y/N. “How polite of you to wait by the doorway for us to finish our conversation.”

Y/N refused to turn around to face Draco. She knew her face was burning red, and besides, she wanted to pretend like he didn’t hear what he just said for as long as possible. Draco seemed compliant to this idea as he glowered by the toaster, waiting for his bread to be done. 

“How did you sleep?” Y/N asked, noticing how dark his undereye circles were. 

“I’m sure not very well,” her mother cut in. “Jet lag and--”

“Mom, I was asking him.”

Draco shifted his eyes onto Y/N’s face in an unrelenting stare. “Not very well.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. The tea didn’t help?”

He scowled and turned his back to her, suddenly waiting very attentatively for the toast to finish.

“I was just telling Y/N that she should take you with her into the city,” her mother said as she began to butter her toast again. “You’ll love Cincinnati. It’s unlike anywhere else.”

“No thank you,” said Draco simply. Y/N took note of how tensely he was gripping the counter, watching how the veins in his pale hands strain. 

“Draco, I insist! It’ll do you some good to see the city before orientation tomorrow,” Mrs. Y/L/N pushed. “I’ll be out to see Y/D/N and pick him up at the airport for the majority of the day, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone here after only one day. It’ll give me some peace of mind to know that my Y/N is with you. She doesn’t bite.”

Y/N snorted ungracefully at this, tearing off a piece of bread to dunk in her tea. He seemed unimpressed and ready to refuse again when the pop of the toaster rang out through the kitchen, making him jump nearly a foot in the air.

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a loud one,” Y/N offered. “You get used to it after a while.” 

His cheeks were just turning a carnation pink when he spun back around to plate the bread and reach for a knife. 

“You two can go whenever you’re ready, Draco,” Mrs. Y/L/N said, setting her bread down and getting up to clear her dishes. “And I won’t take no for an answer.”

With that, she turned and left the two with the kitchen to themselves. Y/N was still working on her toast and fruit and began to curse whatever it was inside that made her a slow eater as Draco settled down across from her, elegantly ripping open a tea bag and plopping it into a mug.

“So, uh...” Y/N scrambled to think of a conversation topic. This conquest was made harder by Draco’s intimidating tilt of the head. “How’s the British school system? I’ve always wanted to know. Britain seems like it has it together.”

“I went to a rather unorthodox school,” Draco answered, “so I don’t think my experience would be a good example of my country’s education.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.”

Y/N busied herself by eating, attempting to do so without getting to many crumbs stuck on her lips. It had never been a problem before, but now that a very tall and broody boy was sitting across from her and looking like he might off her right then and there, it became much harder to eat normally. Draco ate almost robotically, only pausing to sip daintily from his tea. 

Y/N finished before him, and she was up on her feet and clearing away her dishes in record time. “Draco, I’m going to go get my things ready,” she called as she began to make her way out of the door. Come find me when you’re ready to go.”

He sent her a tense, tight-lipped smile that was so forced it looked painful. 

<^>

Y/N was in the middle of her physics homework when a light tapping on the door took her out of focus, prompting her to drop her pencil and shut her notebook. “Yes?”

“I’m ready.”

His voice, apart from the obvious muffle, was noticeably more reserved, like he was defeated or something. Y/N closed her eyes and readied herself before she opened the door to see a very well dressed boy waiting for her, clad in a very expensive looking silk suit. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“You can’t wear that into the city!” she exclaimed. “You...you look like you’re about to walk the red carpet or something! Not the streets of Cincinnati on a Tuesday morning!”

He looked at her blankly, like he didn’t understand a word she had just said. “This is what I wear in England.”

“I mean, it suits you,” she said, leaning into the doorframe to look him up and down. It certainly did--black was a welcome contrast with his ivory features and gold-spun hair, and the expensive fabric seemed to match his elitist aura. His shoes were strangely unique, with a very exotic pointed toe. 

He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the intensity in which she was examining him. 

“Uh, yeah, let’s get going then,” Y/N said, making her way down the stairs to the garage and suddenly feeling very self conscious about her fashion choices for the day. 

<^>

The car ride downtown was exceedingly awkward, with only occasional breaks in the silence for light conversation. Y/N managed to pull out certain facts about Draco--he was an only child, he was born in June, and no, he hadn’t been able to contact his friends back home--but he was still frustratingly vague and secretive. 

“So, what do you want to do?” Y/N asked, unlocking his door and getting out of her own side. “I have to get some last minute stationary, but other than that, the options are endless. I have a few special locations that I have in mind, if you want me to take you to them.”

He shrugged. Y/N suspected that he was beginning to regret his clothing choices as he saw that no one else in the city was dressed as formally as him. 

“D’you like history?” she prompted, stepping a bit closer to him. 

“Not particularly.” God, it was crazy how Draco could make anything he said sound regal and beautiful. 

“Perfect. Follow me.” Y/N locked the car and grabbed him by the sleeve, ignoring his protests about the material or the tailoring that she was going to completely ruin. She pulled them through alleys and backstreets until the bustling city was almost completely behind them and all that stood in front of them was a small shop, with a sign that read “My Grandfather’s Attic”. 

“This is the coolest antique store you’re ever going to find here,” Y/N told him, proudly standing tall in front of the entrance. “I know it’s probably not nearly as old as the stuff from England, but half the stuff in here is so obsolete that I can’t even identify them.”

Draco scowled at the ground. 

“If you don’t like it, we can leave,” she said. “All I ask is that you come in and see it with me for a moment. Maybe you’ll be interested in it.” 

Y/N boldly grabbed his arm again, noting just how stiff it was, like an iron rod. Draco scoffed, attempting to tug it out of her grasp, but she held fast. 

“You are coming with me,” she commanded through gritted teeth, resorting to dragging him to the entrance. “Would it hurt you to be enthusiastic? Or manageable? Just once?”

“I don’t want to be here!”

“And you think I’m enjoying having to sacrifice my senior year for some rich kid with daddy issues? As if!” 

Draco’s silver eyes were blazing as he jerked away to glare down at her. Y/N was once again reminded that he was substantially taller than her and began to feel uneasy.

“At least I have a father to speak of” His voice was cool, unfeeling, and deliciously savage. 

“I have a father! What are you talking about?” This prat was really going to try that?

“In theory, sure,” he said. “But he spends more time traveling than he does with you, right?”

“That’s...no!”

He raised an eyebrow. “So the calendar that your mother has set up isn’t accurate?”

Y/N, flustered, curled and uncurled her fists. “It’s been a bad year. He just wants to make sure he can pay for my college tuition.”

Draco made a sound that was infuriatingly disinterested before striding into the store, tossing her a rather sour look. 

“If you really wanted me to come in, all you had to do was ask. Nicely, mind you. No need to manhandle me.”

<^>

Y/N hadn’t been in the old antique shop for over a year, and she was stunned to see just how many items she’d never seen before. None of them looked like familiar household items--instead, they were strange looking contraptions, worn with age and marked with the writing of older generations. 

The most surprising aspect of it all was Draco’s sudden turn of mood as he floated about, picking up strange items with a familiarity that confused Y/N. 

“Draco,” she called. He snapped his head up from something strange that he was looking at...was that a broken piece of a twig? “Come over here, will you?”

He set down the weird looking ragged stick with an especially broken end and strode over to her, a rather annoyed expression on his face. “What is it?”

“Do you actually know what all of this stuff is?” Y/N asked. “I think it must’ve come under new management...I knew they sold it last summer. The new owners totally revamped it; I don’t recognize any of this.”

“I don’t know what any of this is.” He was suspiciously quick to answer.

“Now that I think about it,” she continued, “I’m surprised I even found this place. I’ve tried looking for it with my friends before, and maybe we got lost or something since we couldn’t find it. But I found it this time, with you, so obviously I must’ve... I don’t know.”

Draco suddenly seemed very uncomfortable. 

“I think I’ve had enough. Do I have your permission to leave now?” His tone was snotty and not unusual, but there was an underlying sense of urgency.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Y/N agreed, visibly shuddering. “The energy in here just feels weird.”

He laughed at this, a real, genuine laugh, and Y/N was treated to the sight of shallow dimples in his cheeks. “I can’t imagine why.”

<^>

Y/N was holding that strange looking box she had picked up in the antique shop, only it was black and much heavier. Her head hurt the longer she held it, and the simple engraving of a symbol she couldn’t recognize burnt into the skin of her palm. 

How had she gotten here? And how was a simple box glowing like...that?

She shot awake, nearly banging her head on the headboard. It was only then that she realized she was dripping in sweat, her brow frothy with perspiration. 

Gross. What kind of dream was that?

One glance at the clock made her heart drop: it was 6:05, and time to get ready for orientation. Her senior summer was really, truly, and absolutely over. 

Y/N wasted no time in getting up and ready, taking extra care to wash off the sweaty remains of her dream in the shower. It was quickly fading from her memory, and by the time she was heading down to the kitchen for breakfast, she had nearly forgotten the entire ordeal. 

“Good morning,” she greeted her father, who was sitting at the head of the table and staring down at a crossword. 

“Oh. Good morning,” he said, glancing up from his paper for a moment. “I haven’t seen you in a bit. Is it time for school already?”

“Orientation. I have to take Draco this morning.”

“Draco? Did your mother get a dog or something?”

Y/N laughed stiffly as she prepared her tea. “No, Dad, our exchange student this year from Britain. Don’t make fun of his name so loudly, I’m sure he can hear you.”

Mr. Y/L/N simply nodded and returned to his work, occasionally taking a sip from his half full cup of coffee. Y/N had never been close with him, but they had spent enough time around each other to feel comfortable in silence. 

Y/ N had only just sat down to eat when she saw a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of her eye, prompting her to look up and see Draco, wearing slightly less dressy clothes and a matching scowl.

“Hi,” she said, faltering under his gaze. He simply sniffed and entered the kitchen, floating over to the kettle and looking inside of it. Unsatisfied with the contents, he changed the water and placed it on the stove.

“This is my father,” Y/N attempted again. “He just got back from Australia on business.”

The two made brief eye contact and her father grunted in acknowledgement. Draco seemed wholly unimpressed and sent Y/N a “I told you so” look that made her want to get up and slap him. She stood up and forcefully stacked her dishes in the sink, turning around before she completely left the room.

“I’ll be ready in 10,”

final a/n: i’m still kinda swamped with work tbh and i don’t think it’s very fair of me to expect to get out anymore work than what i had going at the beginning of the month, but i’m hoping that once january begins, i can start writing more often. i know i promised a dramione fic that’s based in the fall but i’m not sure if i’ll have the time to do that...maybe once i’m in university? i apologize for any of the typos i may have made in here, i don’t have the time to proofread and just wanted to get something out to prove to you all that i’m not dead. love youuuuuuuu

#draco x reader #draco imagine #draco x you #draco x oc #draco #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x oc #draco malfoy x you #harry potter imagine #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n

[thethistlegirl]

Character Analysis: Angus MacGyver (Wunderkind AU Version)

@tomminowrites asked some of us writers if we’d be willing to use a character analysis sheet (Original by @the-right-writing) to analyze Mac as a character. I did two of these, the first one is for Mac as he is in canon, and this one will be for him in my AU Wunderkind) 

Some of these will probably be similar or identical to the last ones, but there’s still enough difference to warrant a whole new post. Prepare for the angst...and darkness... 

Tagging my Wunderkind folks because I can... @bands-space-and-monsters-oh-my @boozy-the-ghost @dickgrysvnwrites (don’t know if you read the fic or not but I know you read the last post like this) @impossiblepluto @telltaleclerk @sassysarcasticlove @silentheartedone @patriotproblems

What would completely break your character?

At this point it’s more a question of what would re-break Mac, because he’s already been broken by everything life’s thrown at him. Any number of things would be able to tip him over the breaking point. Losing another person he’s close to, being sent back to prison, losing the trust of the few people who actually seem to treat him like he’s worth more than just being seen as an ex-con; any of that would send him into a spiral. 

What was the best thing in your character’s life?

Bozer’s friendship, Pena’s mentoring (while it lasted) and his new team have been the few bright spots in Mac’s life. Jack is slowly becoming the most important part of Mac’s new world, but he’s hesitant to let another father figure in, because one abandoned him and one was killed, and he’s not sure which of those options is more horrible to think about happening to Jack. 

What was the worst thing in your character’s life?

Mac’s not sure if James leaving, Jerry Bozer’s death, Pena’s death, or his entire two years in prison are the worst part of his life. He kind of sees it as a cascade effect, where James leaving set everything else in motion, so if pushed he’d probably say that was the worst thing. But prison gave him the most lasting nightmares and trauma. 

What seemingly insignificant memories stuck with your character?

Mac remembers what he was wearing the day James left. He thought turning ten was the coolest thing that could happen to a person so he actually wore a nice little button down shirt and failed miserably to try and tie one of James’s much too big ties on. He waited all day to ask James to help him fix it, refusing to let Harry retie it. A few years later, when no one knew, he burned the tie on the Bozers’ grill. 

Mac remembers the last song he heard Jerry Bozer play. Jerry was practicing his guitar set for his friend’s band one night when they were at the house, and Bozer complained he couldn’t study with the music going and made Jerry go upstairs to his room instead of playing in the living room. The last song Mac heard drifting down from the stairs was “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” by Tears for Fears. 

Mac remembers what the prison showers smell like. Just the smell of mold or cheap soap (he’s run into something similar in some hotels on missions, and nearly had a panic attack right there) is enough to take him right back to some of the worst moments of his life. 

Does your character work so that they can support their hobbies or use their hobbies as a way of filling up the time they aren’t working?

Mac is lucky enough now to have a job that lets him do what he loves. When he worked as a mechanic after high school, though, he had the day job to support both the Bozer family and his nighttime vigilante work. Mac’s never been great at functioning in a nine-to-five style world, and he would have suffocated in an office job. He needs to be working with his hands. 

What is your character reluctant to tell people?

Mac is afraid to let anyone see how afraid and broken he is. He doesn’t want to admit that he has PTSD, partly because he’s ashamed of the reasons why and partly because he doesn’t want to risk being seen as a burden. He thinks that maybe, if he just pretends all the traumatic things never happened, they’ll just slowly fade away. 

How does your character feel about sex?

Mac has nothing but bad experiences with sex. He never had a girlfriend in school, and as soon as he started being a vigilante he didn't want to put anyone else at risk by being associated with him. He never wanted a casual relationship, because of his abandonment issues. Now, though, he’s not sure he could ever be intimate with anyone, because he associates sex with pain, shame, and fear, since his first experiences were in prison. Even someone casually flirting with him can make him nervous, if they seem too pushy, because other prisoners often said the same things, mockingly. 

How many friends does your character have?

Not many. Most of the people from his hometown saw him as a delinquent troublemaker and want nothing to do with him now that he’s got a record. He still talks to Mr. Ericson, but he didn’t initiate that. He’s got Bozer, who’s determined to stick up for him, but their relationship is strained by Bozer’s guilt and Mac’s unwillingness to open up. He considers Jack and Riley friends, he’s not sure what he thinks of Cage, because as nice as she is, he knows she’s potentially manipulative and that scares him. He would never call Thornton a “friend” but he appreciates that she treats him well. 

How many friends does your character want?

Not many. In Mac’s experience, the people he cares about leave or get hurt. He doesn't want to risk either of those happening, and it’s easier to feel safe in a small friend group. He’s not sure letting Jack and Riley into that was a safe decision; he’s afraid one or both of them might be hurt on a mission if he makes a mistake, or might decide to bail on him.

What would your character make a scene in public about?

Mac hates drawing attention to himself, and he’s terrified that if the police showed up they’d find something to accuse him of. He hates arguments and raised voices and will give in in almost any case rather than fight back. The exceptions would be seeing a crime happening, or if someone attempted to hurt one of his friends, or if he was about to be sexually assaulted or killed. Mac won’t risk drawing attention to himself unless it’s a seriously terrifying situation. 

What would your character give their life for?

Mac will do whatever it takes to protect innocent people. He wasn’t worried about what might happen to him as a vigilante, because he thought it was better for him to be hurt or killed, since he was willing to be, than for it to happen to someone else. 

What are your character’s major flaws?

Mac is afraid to let anyone care about him. After losing so many people, he wouldn’t exactly say it in as many words, but he feels cursed. He’s also a bit of a pessimist and tends to give up on his own situation fast. He can find a way to fix anything around him, but he doesn’t really see any way of his own life getting any better. He sees himself as beyond repair, and thinks that’s how everyone else sees him too. 

What does your character pretend or try to care about?

When people complain about the small things that go wrong in their days. Mac can’t help but feel a little spiteful when someone complains about traffic, or the weather, or some other minor inconvenience. He thinks that if he can manage to not complain about the absolute hell he’s been through, other people can manage not to moan about having to pick up the slack of someone else’s job or about who left the coffeemaker out of water. He tries to politely listen and nod but some people at the Phoenix get on his nerves in a big way.

How does the image your character tries to project differ from the image they actually project?

Mac’s tried to be a lot of things. He’s literally worn the mask of a tough, streetwise vigilante, he’s tried to pretend to be a model son so James might actually like him, and in prison he tried to be quiet and blend into the background so no one would single him out. Once he's out, with the team, he initially tries to pretend to be a bit hardened and callous, but that doesn’t last long, since nothing he does can hide the vulnerable boy who just wants to be loved and treated kindly. It’s rare that people are actually fooled by whatever Mac tries to pretend he is, because his true nature is such a big part of him that it naturally shines through. 

What is your character afraid of?

Mac is deathly afraid of heights; he fell out of his treehouse once and had to find a way to get home on a broken ankle because he knew James wasn’t going to come looking for him. Ever since then he’s had nightmares of falling with no one to catch him. He’s afraid of losing the people he loves, as well. 

A very tangible fear that affects his day to day life is a fear of people being physically too close to him. Anyone brushing up against him, especially his legs, is going to make him immediately anxious and defensive. 

What is something most people in your setting do that your character thinks is dumb?

Mac is absolutely terrified when he’s riding in the car with someone who doesn’t obey traffic laws. He doesn’t want to have them get pulled over and have to interact with a cop at all. He doesn’t understand why people think it’s a good idea to blatantly break the law, or why they seem to blow off getting a ticket or even worse, sometimes talk back to the officer. He understands why Jack breaks traffic laws when they’re in the middle of a mission, but other than that, it scares him. 

Where would your character fall on a politeness/rudeness scale?

Mac has never been that great at controlling his smart mouth. It got him into trouble with his teachers, with James, and in prison. But he can’t seem to avoid making snarky remarks. He thought it was going to make Jack angry, but Jack actually seems to like the banter, and it’s becoming a routine where Mac doesn’t actually mean it and Jack finds it amusing and retaliates, also not meaning what he says. 

#macgyver #angus macgyver #character analysis #vigilante au #wunderkind #fic meta

[its-love-u-asshole]

Slipping Underneath [Ch. 2]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Tsukishima was in some deep shit he realized, but common sense told him he should have been rather happy about the discovery he’d just made. Of course, that didn’t stop him from freaking out.

“Tsukki? Did something happen?” Bokuto asked.

Dejected, the blond lifted his head, giving Bokuto the flattest stare he could manage. “The neighbor downstairs hates my voice.”

Rating: T

Tags: soulmates, mythology/sirens AU, some iwaoi and bokuaka thrown in bc why not, first meetings, fluff, Kuroo is a nerd and Tsukki can’t help but be charmed, Siren!Tsukki, Siren!Bokuto

Note: Thanks to @emeraldwaves for reading this over as always! This fic continues to be a lot of fun to write so I hope it shows lol. Enjoy! 

AO3

From that point forward, Kuroo made sure to get his ass out of bed at the same exact time everyday. Even when he had no classes to speak of, he got up and left the safety of his home, just to go get his mail.

His phone would chime, and he'd silence it instantly, springing out from under his comforter to force on acceptable attire (sweats). He'd fumble and curse, and depending on the day Oikawa would yell at him to shut up from the room next door, but it hardly mattered. He would blink the tiredness out of his eyes, scurry out the door and knock into a few walls in the process (hey, he'd just woken up okay?), and then chose to take the stairs to the lobby floor because the elevator just took too damn long.

All to make it to the dimly lit corridor where a certain blond stood, regal and reserved as ever.

This part never had a plan.

Dammit.

Today was the fourth day of his dumbass new routine, and yet he still found his breath taken away by the sight of the blond staring at him like he had some sort of disease.

Tsukishima. Tsukki, as Kuroo had been fondly calling him in his daydreams.

Even with such a disinterested face, he looked like some sort of model.

"...Hey." He practically squeezed the word out, given his lungs were still a bit winded from the sudden exercise. He leaned against a row of mailboxes, trying to keep his breathing from sounding too loud.

Yeah man, just act cool. You're the fuckin' coolest.

The blond looked him up and down, scrutinizing every detail in a way that made Kuroo feel like he was being graded on something, until he finally spoke up. "Did you run all the way down here just to tell me that?"

Fuck.

"Maybe." Welp, there goes trying to lie. What was wrong with him lately? It was like he didn't know how to talk anymore when it came to Tsukishima. Kuroo was a damn artist with words, for crying out loud. His puns spoke for themselves really, but more evidence existed.

Tsukishima's eyes widened at the straightforward admission, but soon they were crinkling in amusement which made all of Kuroo's embarrassment worth it.

"You're weird, and you obviously need to go back to the bed," Tsukishima continued, wrapping his arms around the books he'd been carrying. Huh, I wonder if he does that when he's nervous. Kuroo had started to notice it on day two, but it hadn't gotten any less endearing.

"What was it this time? Exam prep until two in the morning?" Tsukishima asked, seeing as it was midterm season.

Ha.

"Video games until four," Kuroo said smugly, like he was oh so proud. It got another snort out of the blond. God, it was music to his ears.

"How studious."

"I know right? Don't you wish you were me?"

"Mmm," Tsukishima started to hum, and Kuroo willed himself not to take the sound and let his imagination run wild with it. He did not need to pop a boner right now.

Then Tsukishima was pointing at his head, unaware of Kuroo's less than decent thoughts. "No, because then I'd have to deal with that rat's nest you call hair."

"What?" Kuroo made a choked noise, stumbling back as if he'd been punched, and Tsukishima rolled his eyes. "Evil and rude."

"Well, it wouldn't be like that if you actually took care of it when you woke up," Tsukishima deadpanned. "Or it wouldn't look as bad at least."

Ouch, nail on the head.

Kuroo had hardly glanced at his appearance apart from his clothes this morning, too preoccupied with making it downstairs in time to see the blond who'd been strangely taking over his thoughts. Their first meeting hadn't exactly been ideal, but Kuroo truly did want to know more about the blond. He was reserved, but his sense of humor definitely existed, and Kuroo definitely liked it. Bad singing aside, Tsukishima's voice was calming, pleasant even. Not to mention he was gorgeous, but that was a given.

Even with those qualities alone, Kuroo felt drawn to him, and yet they weren't nearly enough to completely justify his attraction. Having a small crush was one thing, but Kuroo wanted to talk to Tsukishima and find out even more before acknowledging that he was completely taken by the other.

So...fuck it?

Kuroo always did believe honesty was the best policy.

"Yeah well, taming my hair to an at least semi-acceptable state takes around...eh...ten minutes?" Kuroo began, talking about it like it was one of his many science experiments. And really it might as well have been. He tested and timed himself enough times, back when he'd actually had hope for his unruly hair to sit flat.

Tsukishima brought a hand up to his mouth, concealing a smile which Kuroo had to restrain himself from beaming about. It was a nice distraction at least, putting his effort into that instead of focusing on his own heartbeat.

Ah well, here goes nothing.

"But uh, if I wasted time doing that I wouldn't make it down here in time to talk to you...so...yeah."

The silence was intense enough that Kuroo could hear the leaking pipes dripping, could hear a door slam on the floor above them. Basically, it was awful, but he held his ground. And oh, how he was grateful he had.

Tsukishima's cheeks lit up like Christmas lights, the red hue soft and noticeable regardless of the dim lighting of the hallway. Kuroo felt his lungs deflate as he forced himself to let out the breath he'd been holding, because he needed more oxygen asap.

But he wasn't totally out of the woods yet he supposed. Tsukishima's eyes flitted between Kuroo and the floor, his teeth nibbling at his lower lip (also unfair, Kuroo couldn't take this). He was searching for a response, and Kuroo didn't know if it was a good sign or not.

Maybe he'd been too upfront, as he tended to do. Shit.

Damage control. Damage control would be good. The last thing he wanted was for Tsukishima to be uncomfortable.

"Uh, what I mean is--"

"I don't think talking to someone in front of mailboxes is very traditional," the blond muttered, eyes staying glued to the floor.

Oh...

Kuroo felt a chill of anticipation flow down his spine, and his stomach churned from the nerves. But again, what was the point in lying now?

Be smooth dude.

"Then...would you like to talk to me somewhere else?" Kuroo asked, feeling suddenly hopeful. It wasn't like he had anything to lose here, other than his pride maybe. But it was worth it. The flush on Tsukishima's face and the stunned look from those honey brown eyes made it worth it.

The blond's grip on his books tightened, but he didn't brush Kuroo off, or turn away. He shrugged, as if uninterested, and began to stuff his mail into his bag. "Depends on where."

Kuroo couldn't list places fast enough. "We could go grab coffee, or go to the movies, or the mall, do you like the mall? I know some people hate it--"

"Kuroo-san."

"Bowling is always fun--"

"Kuroo-san."

"Or there's dinner, a classic really--"

"Kuroo-san." Tsukishima spoke firmly this time, enough to put an end to Kuroo's babbling at least, and the raven stared at him like a puppy waiting for a treat.

So much for being cool.

Tsukishima rubbed at the back of his neck, and Kuroo felt his heart seize a bit. Ah damn, that's not a good sign.

"I have a lot of studying to do, actually, so..." Tsukishima said, eyeing Kuroo curiously.

So, no can do.

He'd been too pushy yet again. Dammit.

Kuroo all but deflated. His shoulders sagged, and he willed his face not to show any disappointment as he registered the rejection. "Oh..well, some other time then I guess." Even he wanted to wince at how pitiful he sounded.

This shouldn't hurt as much as it did, he'd only just met Tsukishima. But it felt like he needed to down three tubs of ice cream regardless, just to soothe his wounds.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, the awkward tension around them still hanging in the air like a jerk. The universe hated Kuroo, obviously.

"Oh, yeah," Tsukishima said, turning away, and Kuroo perked up. He almost thought he saw the blond's body sag as well, his eyes seeming a little less bright than usual. Tsukishima wasn't exactly the most expressive person, so far anyways, but Kuroo knew that look on anyone. He could feel it in the air. Disappointment.

Wait--

Tsukishima gave an awkward wave, making his way towards the building's exit. "Well, I have to go to class. Bye--"

"Tsukki!" Kuroo let the nickname slip, but he didn't have time to be sheepish about it as he grabbed Tsukishima's arm. "What about the study rooms they have here? We can study together later, with breaks of course."

Breaks, as in breaks for talking.

A study date.

It would be his last effort. If Tsukishima turned this down, then he'd know for sure it was because the blond wanted nothing to do with him. But if his suspicions were correct...

If he wants me to keep trying, I'll keep trying.

Those piercing eyes widened, the brightness seeping back into them like a light show, and wow Kuroo was so fucking gay. "You--"

"Like a date, study date," Kuroo clarified, because he'd be damned if things got taken the wrong way. "If you want."

Please want to.

Kuroo realized he was still gripping the other a bit too intimately, and he let go with an apologetic smile. His hand burned, aching to feel the soft skin again. So not the time.

After a few more seconds, the doubt was threatening to invade his chest once more, but he wondered if the blond had done that one purpose. Because as soon as it started, Tsukishima, in all his stubborn, beautiful glory, fixed him with what was nothing less than a full on pout. "I guess. I'll be back from campus by five."

I'll meet you there, went unsaid, but Kuroo heard it loud and clear. What a tease.

But then again, Kuroo loved it.

He nodded, grin way too big for the hour of the morning, and watched as Tsukishima left, obviously late for class. Hopefully the blond thought it was worth it.

All he knew for sure was that he couldn't wait for the evening to come.

"See you then," Kuroo said, his dreamy tone echoing off the peeling walls, heard by no other soul.

--

"Are you humming?"

Bokuto's sudden entrance nearly made Tsukishima drop his watering can. He cursed as some of the water sloshed out, luckily onto the ground. These particular flowers were delicate, he didn't want to give them more water than necessary.

"Excuse me?" The blond wasn't exactly in the mood to talk, but he'd had Bokuto by his side since childhood, so his friend's loudness and constant chatter was something he'd grown pretty immune to.

"You were humming, like full on Disney princess humming," Bokuto went on, smirking in the doorway to the school's greenhouse. Tsukishima volunteered here because...well, gardening was rather calming, plus no one else was really lining up to upkeep the place. Therefore, it gave him a nice isolated place to sing other than his apartment.

Or, it was supposed to. Bokuto often visited in between his lectures, regardless of Tsukishima's threats to throw fertilizer at him if he did it more than twice a week.

"First off, I have no idea what that means," Tsukishima deadpanned, taking off his gloves. "Second, singing and humming is kind of what we do, remember?"

Bokuto pouted, but didn't give up, trudging forward until he was right beside the blond. "Yes, but you've been humming all day! Not just in private. You never do that," Bokuto said, playfully poking Tsukishima's side.

The blond wretched away irritably, focusing on potting the small plants in the nearby soil. "No, I haven't been," he snapped, and guilt coiled traitorously in his gut when Bokuto flinched.

"I haven't," he repeated, calmer this time as he continued his task. It was all Bokuto needed to perk up again, picking up where he left off.

Tsukishima should've let him sulk.

"Uh huh. In Music Theory you were humming during the quiz, all the guys were staring."

Tsukishima sputtered, eyes widening at the memory of hundreds of eyes on him as he'd walked out of discussion. "That's--"

"And then, you were singing under your breath after lunch, while you were going over your notes!" Bokuto pointed an accusatory finger right in his face, like he was unearthing some sort of conspiracy. "Three guys asked you out in the food court, and that was just before you managed to leave."

Oh right. Idiots. Why couldn't people just leave Tsukishima alone?

Because your voice is the vocal equivalent of an aphrodisiac. Right.

"That happens to both of us sometimes," Tsukishima tried, hoping Bokuto would drop it.

No such luck.

"Yeah but it's rare for you, especially that many times in one day! C'mon Tsukki...you were humming at the coffee shop too, the barista gave you free coffee!"

"He might've just been a terrible employee."

"Tsukki. You know what I'm getting at..."

"No." Tsukishima threw his tools down, pushing soil onto his pants, and his first thought was that now he'd have to go home and change before meeting Kuroo. Stupid.

"There's nothing to get at, stop being insufferable already," Tsukishima hissed, and Bokuto whined beside him.

"It's cute though! You're happy!" Bokuto threw his hands up, cheering, and Tsukishima felt he'd had enough. He began cleaning up at once, eager to move onto the next part of his day. He'd be early for his next class, but whatever. The longer he stayed, the more likely Bokuto was to find out about his study date, and that would make the other's excitement twenty times worse.

Tsukishima couldn't take the teasing. It would be payback for all the jabs and comments he'd made when they'd first met Akaashi.

Nope. No.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

Tsukishima was getting a damn headache. The worst part was that they tended to do this quite often, a habit they'd forgotten to leave back in their childhood.

Besides, Bokuto was, as they say, full of absolute crap. Sure, it was rumored that a lot of a siren's mannerisms and habits could be traced back to their emotions, but Tsukishima had never busied himself with learning any of that garbage. It was more myth than anything. Sirens sang more when happy, less when upset, faster when angry, blah, blah, blah. There were no concrete facts, so Tsukishima refused to entertain the idea at all.

He didn't believe anything Bokuto said, and he was definitely not blushing.

And he didn't care either way that he had a date tonight. Not a bit.

With that, he shoved his friend out of the way as he pulled on his backpack, stomping out of the greenhouse and leaving Bokuto's dreadful laughter behind.

--

"Um...you're a..music...major? Wow, that's, uh, great!"

Tsukishima looked about two seconds away from slapping him, his eyes void of any life or amusement.

Kuroo smiled awkwardly as he leafed through his chemistry textbook, as if it would provide him all the answers as to why all of a sudden he was a huge fucking disgrace.

"Uh no, wait--"

"It's a surprise isn't it?" Tsukishima said softly, lips quirking up finally.

Okay, I didn't completely fuck up then.

Right?

"Huh?" Kuroo asked, pausing in his efforts to take out his pencil case.

"Because my singing is so awful," Tsukishima continued, his smile growing more and more. "Me being a music major is weird. Right?"

Well, yes. But--

"Is this a trick question?" Kuroo asked, putting his hands up. "I surrender if it is, last thing I want is to offend you."

The blond only laughed, a beautiful sound, waving him off as he too opened up his textbook. "No, I don't mind. I know I'm a bad singer, but I don't think it's necessary. I like what I study."

Kuroo's nerves settled again, and he chuckled lightly. Conversation was never boring with the blond it seemed, he was clever, and his tongue was sharp.

If Kuroo was being honest, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so attracted to someone, eager to hear whatever came out of their mouth.

"You're just a music major? I know a lot of people double when it comes to the art school," Kuroo asked, wishing they didn't actually have to study so he could ask his questions. How was he supposed to focus on formulas when there was an angel sitting across from him?

Ah shit. He was being cheesy in his thoughts too. He was a goner.

"Computer science too," Tsukishima shrugged. "It's practical and I'm good at it."

"You must be pretty smart then," Kuroo said, and he couldn't help the bit of fondness which leaked into his tone.

The blond tensed up immediately, flushing a bit as he scowled at his book. "I don't think I'm much better than everyone else in the major."

"Oh?" Kuroo couldn't help but smile. Tsukishima was far too humble. Music major or not, carrying two was no easy task, and from how extensive Tsukishima's notes seemed to be, there was no way he didn't do well in his classes.

Kuroo could see the neat handwriting, the gentle scrawl outlining important notes and major points to study, all color coded. Kuroo was no slouch himself when it came to school, but he was impressed all the same.

"Chemistry doesn't sound all that relaxing," Tsukishima said, and the look he sent Kuroo's way was nothing less than expectant.

Oh, he's trying to learn about me. That's so cute.

"Yeah but I've always had a knack for it," Kuroo said, proud as ever. It wasn't that he was arrogant about his intelligence per se, but he took a lot of satisfaction in being skilled at what he loved doing, and helping others learn it. "There's a lot of work, but I guess it'll be worth it in the end. I get crap for it sometimes but, no use listening to it."

"Mm," Tsukishima hummed, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and it only fueled Kuroo's curiosity. "I guess that's well put..."

"Oho, a compliment?"

"Don't read too much into it," Tsukishima said with a click of his tongue, bouncing his pencil on Kuroo's textbook. "We're supposed to be studying remember."

Kuroo laughed, mildly disappointed their conversation had ended. But well, Kuroo planned on taking many, many breaks. So it was all good. "Yes sir."

Soon, they descended into their own quiet worlds, but it wasn't awkward. The gentle scratch of pencils on paper, accompanied with the turning of pages was actually quite comforting. It had been a while since Kuroo had studied with anyone, and while the blond could be distracting every now and again, he was covering a good amount of ground.

They had the small study room to themselves, given Midterm Panic™ probably wasn't for a few more days. Complete freedom, complete privacy. Kuroo had never felt more grateful. 

They were a few minutes past the one hour mark when Kuroo started to feel it though, and he was reminded of how working in the library had never worked for him in the past.

Too quiet. Much too quiet.

Kuroo had never done well with that. While he needed a certain degree of silence to focus, the total absence of background noise jarred him, drove him absolutely nuts. The constant buzz of nothing was making it harder to focus than had someone been chatting it up a few tables down.

Back in his first year, he'd learned he could only study in places where there was at least some degree of noise. Nothing extreme, maybe some whispers here or there, music playing through someone's headphones too loudly, or even the occasional footsteps as people paced the rows of the library. He needed something. The balcony had never been an issue because, well, simply being outside provided all the background noise he'd needed, without being overwhelming. Insects, people passing, cars driving, and whatever else.

Here he didn't have that though, and it was getting to him. Kuroo started clicking his pen profusely, and it still wasn't enough. Then came the foot tapping, then the knocking on the desk, all in an effort to create some kind of illusion that things weren't completely dead in the room.

"What's wrong?"

Apparently, Kuroo was being louder than he thought.

He met Tsukishima's confused stare, and once more, debated shrugging it off as nothing. But again, those eyes on him made him seem incapable of lying, even if he did want to. He sighed, smiling sheepishly.

"Ah, it's nothing. It's hard for me to focus sometimes without background noise," Kuroo explained, knowing it sounded sort of weird. "On the balcony I usually have all the sounds of nature and shit, so I kinda forgot it bothered me."

"Oh, Bokuto is like that too..."

"Hm?"

Tsukishima's eyes widened a bit, like he'd spoken without realizing, and the light flush which accompanied it was beyond appealing. "Nothing...my roommate is the same way. He listens to music when he studies. Well, if you could call all the procrastinating he does studying."

Kuroo chuckled. He didn't want to let the conversation die now that it had started. Tsukishima was actually sharing things about his life, and Kuroo drank in every single detail, wanting more. But of course, he had to say something.

To think the day would come where he dreaded being a chatterbox.

"Music is a little too distracting, I need like...ambient noise you know?"

"Do you want my headphones?" Tsukishima barely finished asking the question before he was tensing up, his lips shutting in record time.

Kuroo blinked, weirdly giddy about the offer. God, they were just headphones, not a wedding ring. "Uh, you don't mind?"

Again, Tsukishima looked taken aback, but he reached for his bag regardless. "Whatever, just don't break them. Can't believe this..."

Tsukishima's mutterings were amusing, as was the way he tried to seem annoyed at his own generosity. Weirdo.

"I'll guard them with my life." Kuroo saluted, but as soon as he saw the headphones, he almost didn't dare touch them.

They were nice, and that was an understatement. They were obviously top of the line, those large, noise canceling type headphones that actual singers used. They were sleek and silver, shining like they'd just come out of the box. They must've cost the blond a fortune, and Kuroo nearly refused them. It was like he wasn't worthy, as someone who normally bought the shitty gas station headphones.

"Problem?" Tsukishima asked, watching Kuroo intently.

"N-no, these are just super expensive! Thanks for letting me use 'em," Kuroo said, beaming as he connected them to his phone. Finding some noise app shouldn't be too tough...

Tsukishima blushed again, glaring at nothing in particular. "Whatever..."

Singing on his patio, studying music theory, and the best headphones on the market. Tsukishima hid his adoration well, but Kuroo knew how to read people, knew how to pick up on every single hint and clue. So really, Tsukishima actually wasn't hiding much. Or at least, Kuroo didn't think so. He didn't know much about Tsukishima yet, but he did know this, and it made him all the more enthralled.

"You must really like music huh?"

The comment had been a simple observation, but from the way Tsukishima's eyes brightened, his muscles relaxing almost against his will, Kuroo had said exactly the right thing.

Tsukishima shrugged weakly, unable to do much more, his features softening as he tried to hold in a smile. "I guess."

There was so much more held behind that answer, and Kuroo thought to hell with studying. He wanted Tsukishima to tell him everything, because there was no way the blond didn't have an opinion on it.

He set the headphones down on the table, no longer needing them, much to Tsukishima's confusion. He closed his textbook, and grinned from across the table at the blond's confusion riddled face.

Again, still pretty.

The questions ran through Kuroo's head, a force all their own. There were so many places he could start, it was hard to choose, but whatever, he would be there all night if he had to.

Best to just start simple.

"Do you have any favorite bands?"

--

They'd scheduled their study date for three hours. They were nearing the fifth.

"I can't believe you actually think that's a good movie, I can't associate with you now," Tsukishima said, blunt as ever. But no, Kuroo was not about to lose this debate.

"The effects were amazing! And we got all that backstory from the previous movie!"

"Not enough," Tsukishima insisted, using his book as a shield instead of reading any of the information inside of it. Kuroo thought maybe it was to keep the blond from slamming his hands on the table, like the raven had started to do.

Things were heated, alright?

"What is that supposed to mean?" Kuroo waited, ready to pick apart any number of points Tsukishima thought to bring up.

Kuroo didn't give a damn if he was being stubborn, he loved horror movies, especially ones of the alien sub genre.

Plus, this was incredibly fun. More fun than he'd had in a long time.

"They kept teasing us with random flashbacks that were twice as interesting as the actual movie's plot," Tsukishima said. "If they wanted to make a better film, they'd make a prequel instead of just giving us gore scenes for the sake of gore."

"What's wrong with gore?"

"Nothing, but without a storyline it just gets boring," Tsukishima said, rolling his eyes. The blond had been getting more and more expressive as their conversation continued, his voice growing louder and more exasperated as they debated. It was awesome. "And you can't seriously tell me you enjoyed the forced romance at the end."

Kuroo winced. Okay yeah, that was bad.

Tsukishima smiled, smug and victorious, and hell, Kuroo was ready to surrender just to make sure it didn't fall.

Ugh. Fine.

"Can we at least agree that it was better than the previous installment?"

Tsukishima pursed his lips, contemplative, before clicking his tongue in defeat. "Fine."

As if to signal the truce, Kuroo's phone lit up with a text from Oikawa, asking whether or not he'd been murdered.

How thoughtful.

He agreed about the lateness though. The sun had set long ago, and while it was nowhere near his usual bedtime, he didn't want to keep Tsukishima longer than he wanted. The blond obviously woke up way before Kuroo normally did. He'd have to ask about his class schedule sometime, if he found a way to be non-creepy about it.

"Guess we better pack it in before my roommate calls the police to report me missing," Kuroo said, pocketing his phone and joining Tsukishima in packing up his various untouched books. He'd gotten through one chapter, which was hardly enough, but oh well. He didn't regret slacking off.

After they'd gotten into the music conversation, Tsukishima had opened up. Not all at once of course, given he seemed like just a cautious person in general. But Kuroo knew what questions to ask, what responses to prod at, and soon he was trusted enough to make Tsukishima spill the goods.

First off, whether or not Tsukishima liked to admit it, the other didn't just like music. He straight out loved it. He had over six hundred songs on just his phone alone, and tons of knowledge about various artists and instruments at the drop of a hat. The trivia was interesting, but mostly it was attractive. Not the facts themselves, but the way Tsukishima's eyes flashed with recognition and concealed excitement every time Kuroo referenced a particular song or album.

If the saying was true, and people became ten times more beautiful when talking about things they were passionate about, then Tsukishima should've been illegally gorgeous.

And he was.

Talks about music, during which Kuroo had been recced several bands (thank you Tsukki), the conversation had bled into movie soundtracks, which led to favorite movies, which to favorite genres, and so forth.

Kuroo's throat protested somewhat from all the talking, dry and in desperate need of water. Tsukishima constantly cleared his throat as well, probably in the same boat. The other still seemed stunned, much like Kuroo, about how much they'd actually talked.

Kuroo was on cloud nine, and he only hoped Tsukishima felt the same way.

As if sensing the weird aura of joy Kuroo was no doubt giving off, Tsukishima looked up from where he was zipping up his bag, making eye contact. They'd been talking face to face for several hours, so it shouldn't have been a big deal, but Kuroo still felt a pleasant chill run through his body.

Yeah, you're a goner dude.

"Um, I'll walk you to your door." Kuroo stood, taking his own backpack as he handed Tsukishima his headphones.

The blond reached out to grab them, his hands landing awkwardly on the sides, close to where Kuroo had gripped them. Their fingertips brushed against each other barely, not even for two seconds, but it made Kuroo's night all the same.

Tsukishima nodded, hiding his face in his coat's collar. "Yeah, okay."

--

Tsukishima didn't know what the hell was wrong with him.

He'd talked more to Kuroo in the past six hours than he had the entire school year, at least to anyone but his friends. And he'd shared his stupid interests too...

Why had he done that?

Going on and on about his dumb songs on his phone and movie soundtracks, who cared about that kind of thing? Why did he care if anyone cared?

This is annoying.

And offering his headphones? His most prized possession? He hardly let those things out of his sight, much less out of his care. Giving them to someone else was essentially unheard of. Bokuto borrowed them once without asking and Tsukishima had eaten all the other's pop tarts in retaliation, carbs be damned. He hated pop tarts.

Fucking savage.

And yet he'd willingly handed them over to Kuroo without any kind of protest. Something was seriously wrong. Maybe he was getting sick...

Yet, as the elevator opened to his floor, he knew it wasn't the case. The rapid beating of his heart and the strange disappointment welling up inside him couldn't be blamed on the common cold.

He wasn't too fond of the alternative answer either, at least...not yet. Tsukishima kept telling himself Kuroo was still being tested, but he wasn't quite sure where he planned on drawing the line when it came to proof.

Kuroo followed him to his door, their steps being the only sound in the building. They'd been talking just fine all the way up, but now...

The silence was thick, the air around them charged in a way which made no sense. It had been a date technically, Tsukishima had agreed to it. What did people do after dates?

What did Tsukishima want?

He'd never been in this situation before, where a strange yearning kept building in his chest. A situation where something seemed to be missing, where there was an unknown next move begging to be taken.

He tried not to think about it as he dug out his house key. Maybe once he opened the door everything would fade away, though that didn't exactly feel right either.

Why did everything about this have to be so annoying? All because he'd decided to sing freely on his balcony one night...

Kuroo leaned against the hallway wall, watching him intently, his face giving nothing away for once. He was focused, almost terrifying so, on Tsukishima hands as they fished out the key ring.

An excited surge traveled through Tsukishima, making his skin heat up. He often hated being the center of attention, but Kuroo was starting to make him greedy.

And whatever, Tsukishima was fine being a brat, even if he didn't acknowledge the feelings behind it yet.

"See you later I guess," Tsukishima finally said, still debating on whether or not it was polite to thank Kuroo for a study date where they hadn't actually studied. Instead, he bit his lip and shoved his key into the slot.

"Next Friday," Kuroo said, and Tsukishima's hand froze as the lock clicked.

"Huh?"

"Go out with me next Friday, once midterms are over," Kuroo said, smiling in apology. "Since it's pretty obvious we can't study together."

Tsukishima, with no other real solution for how fast his heart was beating, resorted to his best skill. "You were the one who wouldn't shut up."

"Hey."

"Where?" Tsukishima asked, unable to contain the stupid question. He refused to admit he was eager, or even elated than Kuroo had asked him out again. The raven was just a chemistry nerd with bad jokes and worse hair, which somehow (probably through witchcraft) ended up looking attractive.

Ugh.

Kuroo, to put it lightly, looked baffled. "Oh, you want to go? Really? With me? Okay, uh..."

Tsukishima couldn't help but snort. "Did you not think this far ahead?"

"To be honest I'm pretty convinced I'm dreaming, so no," Kuroo sighed, his tone almost too dreamy to be taken seriously. Embarrassing. Who was this guy?

Although, I wouldn't be surprised if I was dreaming either.

Tsukishima tried not to flush from his own thoughts.

"Either way, you can still answer the question," the blond muttered, suddenly unsure of what to do and where to look. His hands were still on his keys and the door handle, frozen awkwardly and no doubt clammy as hell.

"Bowling?" Kuroo offered, his grin already growing.

"Bowling?" Tsukishima repeated, squinting a bit. It wasn't a bad idea, just a bit non-traditional, not to mention random. "Why?"

"First off, because it's fun," Kuroo said, like it was common sense. "But mostly because I just wanna kick your ass."

The admission literally made him tense. After all, since when did Tsukishima back down from a challenge?

He hated losing.

He wouldn't lose.

With a smirk powerful enough to intimidate death itself, Tsukishima pushed his door open.

"You're on."

#kurotsuki #kurotsukki #adri writing #haikyuuwriters