#i just thought it would be a more serious introspective tone

[starliteonearth]

So maybe it's all the Megatron/Orion fics I've read but I thought this movie would have them first meet when Megatron is already the rising revolutionary gladiator star. Someone correct me if I'm wrong but do they usually meet this young? Because I was fully prepared for middle aged robots falling in love, discussing and debating philosophy and strategies (low-key flirting), and fathering the revolution together, you know until the great Senate Divorce in which I would have my heart broken into a tiny million pieces watching this iconic married-but-doesn't-know-they-are couple irrevocably split apart and become bitter enemies.

#i'm not necessarily opposed to what i saw in the trailer #but it was just not at all what i was expecting #like the buddy comedy is cute and i can definitely get down with it #i just thought it would be a more serious introspective tone #basically think cherik in x-men first class #and if we still get that then i will shut my ass up #please be that 🤞🤞 #i'm so ready to be a child of divorce a third time #transformers #transformers one #optimus prime #orion pax #megatron #optimus x megatron #megaop

[missmeinyourbones]

Hiiiii L!!! Congrats on ur milestone bby!! It was so hard to choose a prompt I was stuck on so many of them but I’d love to see ur take on the prompt “weird, but fucking beautiful” with Touya<333

WEIRD, BUT FUCKING BEAUTIFUL (t. todoroki)

a/n: bad communicator dabi, reader has a birthmark, descriptions of skin and scarring (???) angsty undertones but ultimately very soft (like dabi), i love u oz

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

There's a lot that Dabi can't say.

He thinks his lack of verbal charisma was wired into his brain and decided by the stars above from the very moment he was born into this world.

It's not for a lack of feeling, he likes to justify. In his head, Dabi has said what he would deem to be Shakespearean things about how much he loves you—but when it comes time to turn those thoughts into syllables from his lips, they never sound nearly as nice.

Something Dabi is good at, he likes to think, is admiring you. It comes natrually, he doesnt need to think about it.

He loves learning about your body, finding out new things about your skin and shape and self. Enjoys learning how you like to be touched, how you like to be loved without the words he can't really say. He thinks that must be how people in love feel, a bit foolish but willing to sit in silence just to catch a glimpse of something worth while.

Having crawled out of bed and whined about your soreness from last night, you search the room for your discarded jeans. And Dabi does what he does best and watches you.

He appreciates how your skin stretches and bounces when you bend down to grab your pants. How it pudges by your hips and tummy when you shimmy into your jeans and fasten your zipper. He likes how your arms flex and arch as you button your bra around your torso—and he loves how your tiny little birthmark on your back contorts with the normalcy of it all.

It's moments like these, horribly mundane and, for a lack of a better word, boring, that make Dabi realize just how lost in you he actually is. The way you exist, ridiculously regular and undeniably human, makes him want to cry, sometimes. He doesn't think you realize how special that is, to be normal.

Your irritated tone interrupts (what you don't know to be) his sweet introspection.

"Would you stop that?"

You see the smallest twinge of a smile from the corner of his mouth when he plays along.

"Stop what?"

"Looking at me like that," he watches you shrink beneath his heavy gaze.

"Like what?"

You raise your eyebrows at him, in a look that reads nothing but annoyed, and he allows himself to huff out a sound of amusement at how easily aggravated you get sometimes.

"Oh come on, don't be pissy," he teases, but you choose to ignore his taunt and continue getting dressed.

He continues to watch you twist into your shirt, and he's grateful it's sleeveless as it leaves the pretty little imprint beneath your shoulder within his sight. He watches you catch his eye a few times, sees how you grow more irritated with each and every flicker of his stare on your skin.

When you (not so) gently scoot past him to collect your phone from the nightstand, he's quick to wrap his fingers around your wrist and guide you closer to him.

With a scowl on your face, you let him. His hand finds your chin, turning you upward to look at him, pout and all.

"Hey," he whispers with a bit of an edge, one he doesn't mean to have but has accepted as a part of him. When you flicker your eyes over him, he softens his bite a bit, "Talk."

After a sigh or two, your response comes shy, flushed.

"I don't like when you stare at me like that," you whisper against his palm and he can feel the heat of your cheeks flooding with embarrassment.

"Feels like you're making fun of me or something."

"Making fun of you?" his face frowns in genuine confusion. "The fuck are you talking about?"

Not sure if he's fucking with you or not, you take a beat to read his expression. He's serious, for once—you can tell there's no ill will in his furrowed brows and slightly concerned eyes.

Eventually, you deflate and state the obvious, "You're looking at my birthmark."

…Yeah?

"And?" he decides to say instead.

"And I hate it," your voice becomes a bit more strained, "so stop looking at it."

Genuinely confused at the sudden tension between you two, Dabi shrugs and loosens his grip on your jaw, leaving his hand gently ghosting your skin instead of holding you in place.

He sounds a bit critical when he scoffs, "What's there to hate? It's a birthmark."

"It's gross and weirdly shaped and ugly."

And he can't but wince at the pure irony of your words. Because you're always the first person to kiss his scars, trace their growing and scaling patches, and remind him that they're beautiful because they're his.

And here you are, loathing something as measly as a barely noticeable birthmark for the sole reason that it's yours.

He wants to tell you what you tell him, that it's beautiful because it's yours. That he wants to trace it with his tongue and see its outline when he closes his eyes.

But Dabi isn't that poetic, so he settles for shrugging and using his free hand to reach out and touch it.

As his calloused thumb skims the mark, he hums to himself in thought.

"Was thinking about how it's kinda shaped like a mushroom."

He smiles a bit when your eyes roll at his statement. Your skin heats up again when you weakly remind him that, "It's weird."

"Yeah," he merely agrees with a soft nod, "but it doesn't make me want you any less."

Gently, he takes the pad of his thumb and lovingly swipes it across your bottom lip, caressing the skin and attempting to let his touch say what his words can't.

And you know, he knows you know. Because even though Dabi isn't great with words and can't say what he means, what he feels, that doesn't mean he doesn't feel it. He feels it more deeply than anyone you've ever known.

In the softness of the moment, you cock your head to the side and gently bite down on the length of this thumb. It's unexpected but doesn't hurt, and Dabi knows you well enough to know what it says. Thank you. I love you.

He nearly blushes at the intimacy, mumbling out a sarcastic, "Fuckin' ow."

"Don't be a baby," you choose to gently kiss the spot you sunk your teeth into, "that didn't hurt."

It didn't, he thinks. I liked it.

Again, his tongue betrays him, "You're so weird."

Allowing yourself to lean into his touch, your voice taunts him a bit. "But that doesn't make you want me any less, does it?"

Dabi chooses the easy way out and simply kisses you, and through this tongue gently prodding at your bottom lip, you know his answer.

No, it doesn't.

#L's MIDNIGHTS EVENT! #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #dabi x you #touya todoroki x you #dabi fic #touya todoroki fic #dabi angst #dabi fluff #touya todoroki angst #touya todoroki fluff

[miami-lolz]

I saw this awesome question sheet by @bisexualricks and wanted to throw my hat into the ring!



1. top 5 episodes and why!

The Vat of Acid Episode - It was both a solid character introspection for both Rick & Morty, and also had some really funny moments. Morty flipping Rick off after he had to kiss the vat of acid absolutely sent me

Rest and Ricklaxation - There’s was a lot of funny bits in the episode and is generally pretty good. Also Jessica saying Rick would call her drunk asking about Morty or something is hilarious to me

Ricktional Mortpoon's Rickmas Mortcation - It was a huge turning point for lore but also Rick saying “perfectly fucking vertical.” In an incredulous tone absolutely kills me. Also solid light saber fight

The Rickchurian Mortydate - this entire episode was great from beginning to end. “oh I’ve got pubes, commander-in-queef, y-you wanna count them?” And Ricks rant on the Oval Office was hilarious.

Rickmurai Jack - I absolutely love Evil Morty’s character and the last half of the episode was especially fantastic. The music, EM’s rant “That’s what makes me evil, being sick of him.” Also I absolutely believe EM’s offer to let Morty Prime come with was a genuine offer. The whole “it was a toilet” was just EM trying to save face like he wasn’t kinda hurt.

2. least favorite episode(s) and why!

Claw and Hoarder: Special Ricktim's Morty - The subtext on this episode was mortifying and was just kinda weird and all over the place.

Final DeSmithation - There was a good couple funny bits throughout but again, any funny moments is ruined because we can’t go one season without weird incest plots.

Rickdependence Spray - I feel like this is self explanatory. Jfc Justin what we’re you thinking?

3. Moments that make you insane

“I don’t know this guy, you’re a my grandpa, Rick!” OH MY GODDD

The fact that Morty cares for a family he knows isn’t even technically his.

Mortys voice and expression when he yelled “Your not even in the hole, are you?!” In Fear No Mort because the amount of desperation in his tone nearly killed me

Rick lying to Morty about the Purge candy so he doesn’t realize what he has done. Like Rick absolutely could have told Morty the truth but decided not to.

4. your favorite lines

“oh I’ve got pubes, commander-in-queef, y-you wanna count them?”

“A Vat of Fake Acid, are you dying from dementia??”

“We could be clones, we could holograms, we could be clones controlled by holograms controlled by special remote control headsets the real Rick and Morty are wearing while they’re fucking your mother!”

“Betrayal! Betrayal on all sides!”

“You have a death crystal in your pocket??”

“No, yes, maybe!”

“You little monster, I thought you were masterbating!”

“And you took that in stride??”

“You rather I address it??”

5. Rick head-canons

⁃ Stopped doing any heavy partying after around season 1, not wanted to expose Morty to that, though he’d never admit that out loud

⁃ Is Bilingual, specifically he speaks Spanish. I’m pretty sure he’s canonically Hispanic as well.

⁃ He’s pansexual. He also hasn’t been in a serious relationship in decades. He avoids them after Diane. He did want something serious with BP tho

⁃ When he’s wasted, like emotionally upset and absolutely shit faced he will lock himself in the garage and avoid going near the Smith family

⁃ Sometimes Morty does things that reminds Rick of Prime and it drives him crazy. He will go out of his way to chastise Morty to try to get him to stop the things he can control

⁃ Rick doesn’t heal his battle scars as it’s a way to separate himself from other Ricks in the finite curve

⁃ Rick purposely let the original Prime universe get mutated and made it worse as a last middle finger to Rick Prime. He later felt kinda bad about it, just because he knows what he did is some petty shit Prime would have done.

6. Morty head-canons

⁃ Morty Prime has a lot more physical similars to Rick Prime then he does to Jerry. Most Mortys have brown but Morty Prime has blue eyes, similar to his Rick. His hair more disheveled and a bit more spiked.

- Refuses to drink alcohol most of the time because he’s seen what it’s done to people. However he will do recreational drugs & smoke cigarettes. Often on the roof on his house.

⁃ Morty has a jagged scar around the end of his hand where he had to use the train to cut his hand off. As well as a bit missing from his left ear from a stray gun shot, his nose is crooked from getting broken a lot and he’s missing a tooth.

⁃ He carry’s a blaster in his waistband and one under his pillow just in case. He is in general kinda paranoid

⁃ If Morty has a serious nightmare and/or can’t fall asleep he will sneak into his moms or Ricks alcohol stash and drink until he passes out because it’s the only way to get him to fall back asleep.

⁃ Sometimes Morty will stare at himself in the mirror and try to see if he has any similarities to Rick Prime and will try to change anything he finds. If another Morty refers to him as “Prime” he will bust their head open. Or cry.

⁃ Morty is aware Rick sees him as Rick Prime grandson, and is convinced one day Rick will finish what he started and kill him to. He’d never admit that to Rick

7. Family Head-Canons

Summer

- Is a lot more observant then she gets credit for.

- One of the reasons she started going on adventures with Rick is because she wanted to look out for her brother.

- She nearly cried when Rick told her she reminds him of Diane.

⁃ I could see her as Bi, as she’s flirted with Ethan and the girl from S7.

- She was planning on moving out as soon as she was 18, but lately has been thinking other wise. Her relationship with her family is a lot better then before.

Beth/ Space Beth

⁃ Trash TV is her guilty pleasure, like she says she watches it ironically but no she doesn’t

⁃ Not that great at cooking to be honest, never really got taught how to and can’t be bothered anymore

- is honestly proud of Summer for not ending up like her when Beth was her age

Jerry

⁃ is actually really solid at cooking, and would be a good house husband if he wasn’t kinda lazy.

⁃ Family is genuinely important to him and he honestly would sacrifice everything for them. Rick knows this and can respect Jerry for that

⁃ he’d never say it out loud but sometimes Morty scares him. He’s seemingly the only one to notice how aggressive he’s gotten lately and was mortified when Morty told him about the Tina-Teers thing.

8.Prime head-canons

⁃ He doesn’t regret what he did with Diane, but he did regret letting it get to that point

⁃ He honestly didn’t want to kill his own Morty, and was conflicted seeing him with C-137.

⁃ He was far from thrilled seeing what had become of his planet. He wasn’t necessarily attached to it or anyone in it, however he didn’t want it to end up as a wasteland.

- He’s been keeping tabs with Rick and Morty as was a little surprised with how Rick C-137 hasn’t killed Morty Prime or even really tried to.

- Wasn’t expecting Morty to take after him as much as he has.

9. Evil Morty head-canons

- Was actually bothered when Morty Prime didn’t accept his offer and just lied about it being a toilet seat to save face because he was kinda salty about it

- he’s definitely a clone, not sure what universe he’s based off of and doesn’t care anymore

- EM is lonely as hell and watch’s rom coms to pass the time. He’s not use to getting to live normally and isn’t sure what to do with all that free time

- he chose to use an eye patch because he knows Ricks are scared of pirates

- after the S1 finale, EM started keeping tabs on Rick C-137 and Morty Prime. It was also how he learned about the Prime universe

10. favorite rick and morty pair that ISNT c-137 and prime

Not technically a Rick & Morty pair but the Mortys from the citadel, Left-Handed Morty, Slick Morty, Glasses Morty, and Lizard Morty. The way Slick threw himself into the garbage shoot in a desperate attempt for other Mortys to be better off lives in my head rent free I wish they were still alive.

11. songs that you think relate to them

“This is love” by Air Traffic Controller. This song is such a good way to express Mortys codependency to Rick (not shipping btw you nastys)

#great question sheet op! #had a lot of fun with this one #rick and morty analysis #rick and morty #rick c137 #evil morty #morty prime

[letapollojusticesayfuck]

A (Noncomprehensive) Guide to Zine Apps; or: How To Show You're Going To Be Good At The Specific Thing You're Applying For

There's been a lot of zines opening apps recently, and with that comes a lot of acceptances/rejections and questions on what applicants could do differently to finally get to be part of a project they're enthusiastic about. While I'm not some kind of all-knowing zine expert, I have been in a good handful so far, and so thought I could share some tips.

Read the Info Doc or Carrd for zine requirements and theming. Seems obvious, but this is always a good first step when you're thinking about applying for something. Think about how the zine's theme fits in with pieces you've already made--you'll have a harder time getting into a zine that's themed for something you've never written/made art for before than you will with a zine that fits with your typical works. These informational resources are also where you'll find the specs that you'll be expected to work to for the zine, which can then inform what example pieces you choose.

Choose your example pieces based on the zine's theming. What is the zine trying to accomplish? Which characters are going to be showcased? If you're applying to a zine all about platonic love, maybe don't have all three examples you provide be heavily shippy. If you're applying to a zine about women, make sure you've got some examples of writing/art that showcase you writing women! Personally, I never use the same combo of writing samples twice--I've got a pool of fics I pull from that are roughly in zine-wordcount-territory and I select them based on what the zine I'm applying to is about.

Make sure your examples show off the style you would be expected to create for the zine. This is where having read the info doc comes in! If you're applying as an artist, typically zines will expect art contributors to create pieces with full backgrounds. Make sure you've got at least one example in there of a piece that matches that description! For writers, usually the request will be to tell a complete story in anywhere from 1500-3000 words (depending on the zine), so keep a stash of oneshots within that word count ready to go to use as your writing samples. There's some other considerations, too--is this a fluffy, shippy zine? Maybe don't use your angstiest work in the application. Is this a serious, somber-toned zine? Think twice about including the comedy crackfic you're proud of as an example. Remember, the mods are looking for people to help bring their specific zine vision to life--you'll make their lives (and your own!) easier if you give them examples that already go along with that vision.

A coda to the last point: what if you don't have anything for that fandom written? While that's definitely a more difficult situation, there's ways around it: mainly, making extra sure your submissions hit on the tone of the zine. Are you applying for a ship zine but haven't ever written that ship before? Maybe use some pieces that feature the characters involved individually. Do you fully not have any works including the characters from the zine's fandom? Think about the kind of writing/art the zine wants you to create, and send in your best submissions having to do with those: for shippy zines, show that you can write/draw romantic scenes! For gen zines, choose your best character introspection moments, or anything that shows off the genre (lighthearted? comedy? angst?) best.

Don't rush things. Remember, apps are usually open for a while! If it's the beginning of the application period and you're not sure you've got any good examples to apply with, maybe send out a call for writing/drawing prompts and aim for that zine wordcount/art specs goal! Taking the extra time to make sure your examples are relevant will let you put in a much more curated application

At the end of the day, it's all just for fun. I know this sounds a bit like a PSA, but ultimately there are many reasons why people are rejected from zines, and they're not because of some personal failing--usually it'll be a case of many applicants and few spaces to fill. Don't be discouraged--there's always more projects coming along, and you can always find or found some other, non-application-based fandom events in the meantime!

Anyway--hope this was useful in some way to someone out there! I know zine rejections can be frustrating and a bit demoralizing, and I can assure you that I've definitely been right there with you. I definitely encourage trying to flesh out your portfolio of zine-styled pieces even when you're not actively writing or drawing for a zine--it'll give you more variety to pull from for apps in the future.

If you have any thoughts or questions, do feel free to send an ask or add them on to the post--as a writer, I mostly have writing-focused advice, but there may be some artists out there who've got art-specific tips too.

#lucy's thoughts #zine stuff #said i would write this down and i have done so #disclaimer again that i'm not an expert #but i did start seeing more zine acceptances when i followed guidelines like this

[koremakaria]

Gingerrose Micro Fic: Wanderlust (Part 3)

“Wanderlust”

He really needed a drink to cool things down. The planet's brutal heat and humidity were unrelenting. Hux had been to numerous planets within the known galaxy with all sorts of climates. All in service of the First Order and not because he had a wanderlust.

Batuu was a remote terrestrial planet on the edge of the galaxy's Outer Rim Territories. In short it was barely civilized.

Hux looked around trying to flag the attention of the the shop's attendant when one finally sauntered over.

"What can do for you, handsome?"

"Hey, that's my husband. He's off the market." Rose kept her tone cool but firm.

The attendant raised her brows and chuckled softly. "Ahh, all the handsome ones are always taken. Well, never mind that. What can I get you?"

"AA ..any stif...stiff drink would do." Hux said.

"Oh sorry, Mr. Handsome Husband. We don't do that kind of drink here. For some hooch, you gotta head to Oga's Cantina. Two streets down."

Kriffing A.

What would a man have to do to get a drink in this damn town? And why did Tico said he was her husband? But more importantly … why did he not hate the sound of it?

He should feel offended? insulted? wounded? repulsive to the idea presented? Yet none of those things happened.

He felt...fine with it.

Kriffing A.

This was NOT the time for introspection. They were on a mission. Hux needed to stay focus.

He desperately needed to NOT get DISTRACTED.

"You're welcome!" Rose directed her words at Hux in a playful singsong tune.

"What?"

"I said...you're welcome! I just saved you from that lady. I saw her eyeing you since you first sat down." Rose narrowed her eyes as she took a sip from her nonalcoholic drink. "Unless...you didn't want to be save?"

Hux was momentarily stunned.

He couldn't tell if Commander Tico was serious or worse ... that shw was … joking. Was it possible that Tico was teasing him?

The only thought in his mind was …

 HELLO Distraction.

#gingerrosevss #Gingerrose #armitage hux #rose tico #fanfiction

[shaddy24]

This is just one of those super rambly thoughts I want to get out there, no deep introspective or real analysis behind it, but it is really interesting that every known villain in The Incredibles series has no powers. Like, we only really see the four of them (Bomb Voyage, Syndrome, the Underminder, and Evelyn), and two of them are confirmed to have no powers and just use tech while the other two are only really seen using tech and never show off any super powers. Combined with the whole attitude of the movies toward questioning the acts of people with super powers and it is kind of weird that the implication is that super powers just inherently make you a better person who should be an authority. There's no Batman in the Incredibles' universe, a superhero using just technology and nno super powers at all. Every super has powers, and every villain uses technology to try and compete with the supers.

And like, the opening for Incredibles 2 kind of hammers that home. "Oh, we attacked the villain, caused a whole lot more property damage than would have happened if we'd left him alone, nearly killed a whole bunch of people, and failed to capture him or even recover the goods he stole. Why is anyone upset at us, we're the good guys!" It's very in the tone of supers can do no wrong, even if they objectively make the situation worse. No one we're supposed to agree with condemns the Incredibles for what they did, it's all just the government agents that are framed as in the wrong.

Like I said, there's no actual serious analysis to it, just kind of random thoughts, but it's always been a bit of a weird thing with the series. I don't know if there's any actual ideological thrust behind that or if it was just how things played out with the stories they had.

[cartoonfangirl1218]

On the Same Page

Author’s Note: Takes place some time during Shuriki era on one of their few downtimes. Enjoy!

“So what did you think?” Esteban asked eagerly as Doña pulled out the two books from her bag.

They had barely settled in the carriage but his excitment was palpable as she pulled out a tattered paperback of a phoenix blooming from an emerald sword held by a bedraggled but not beaten sailor boy. 

That sailor boy was the future king of Ibarra, Doña had learned, getting soaked into the story of redemption, adventure and mistaken identities for the past two weeks between doing her inventory, setting up displays, meeting with union leaders and other social engagements that took up her time. 

The novel was Esteban’s well-loved volume, one he had lent to her when they had decided to trade their favorite books during the long carriage rides between kingdoms. 

Esteban had been reluctant at first but once Doña had started reading, she had noticed glances geared her way whenever she pulled up to her corner of the room to find the place she bookmarked. Or when she laughed at a particularly witty one liner and she glimpsed him smiling as if he knew exactly what part she had read. 

And it was clear to see in his eyes that he was eager to know what she thought of it. 

She understood that feeling well, though she hadn’t given it to him yet, she already wanted to know what he would think of Pablo Neruda’s poetry. She had a feeling that he would like it as much as she did. There was a scope of universes beyond universes in words that she was sure would attract his introspective nature. 

It may not be an adventure story but Neruda was so detailed in describing the locations he traveled to that sometimes it felt like a place she could actually visit if she found the right waterway that would lead to the Mystic of the Moor Crossroads. 

But that was not the fictional world she had emerged from. Now was time to focus on Ibarra Vilcabamba and PortoEsmeraldas and the sailor boy that united the sparring kingdoms and city states. 

“I liked it a lot,” She answered truthfully, noting the discrete relaxation of his shoulders. 

“I’ll admit some of it was a bit grandiose and the language flowery at times, but the character development that Ignacio undergoes.. That was amazing. I never felt so deeply for such a flawed character. He was so unsure and made dreadful mistakes just because of his pride and ego, but… I still felt for him. It made the end so much more satisfying.” 

Esteban nodded sagely, it was almost amusing how serious he was taking this considering the fact that they had a trade meeting to deal with when their break time was over. 

“Yes, I thought you’d say that. I agree with the faults you mentioned. I must admit I was much more fascinated by it when I was very young, very action-driven, the side characters are just tools for story progression but Ignacio.. Ignacio still holds up.”

Doña settled in the cushy chaise lounge, “I’m sure you sympathize with him even more now than back when you were young.” 

Esteban busied himself with picking an imaginary piece of lint from his shoulder before looking back to her, “Yes. A bit.” 

He sighed, his eyes staring out the open window to the cloudless sky but his somber tone was a contrast to the cheerful day, “When I was young I had desperately wanted to follow the same adventures as Ignacio. Only I thought I’d do it all, saving the noblesse, fighting the malvago, all that, without making his mistakes. Because I was real and I knew better. I thought I knew better.” 

“But you’re doing better now when it comes down to it.” Doña reminded him drawing his gaze away from the window. He really shouldn’t be in the sour, melancholy mindset before they went to meetings. And she would never admit it, but it tugged on her heart a little. As infruriating as he was, she preferred him fighting than the way his spirit seemed to drain out of him whenever he thought too much about their current sorcereress queen. 

“Yes,” Esteban shook his head as if to physically shake the haunting thoughts away, “Anway, my love for it runs more than just the similarities of our lives… It was my father’s copy, he’d read it to me almost every night before bed and we always said that we’d someday go sailing down the same route as in the story.” 

Doña shared the genuine smile that came from the memory, taking it as cue to pull out her leather-bound tome of Pablo Neruda’s poems, “This was my mother’s.” 

A lie since she. . . her family had lost all their belongings in the flood, but he didn’t know that. But then she found this two years ago. She had been scouring a pawnshop for some vintage deals when she spotted it in the corner book-bin. It looked exactly like the one her family had owned right down to the weathered spine from so many readings. And though she knew it wasn’t the same one, it would have been waterlogged otherwise, she almost teared up to see it again. The gilt letters were the only gold she had seen when she was little since pesos were covered with copper and grime. It was a light to a wider world. 

She couldn’t suppress the wistful smile that was no doubt spreading over her face, and much like her sometimes-pompous companion turned to the window as the vivid memory took hold. 

She could practically feel the soft caress of her mother brushing her hair down as she settled in bed. The wavey shadows on the walls, only illuminated by the moonlight through the blind. It was a familiar place, cozy and safe as the nighttime routine where her mother read with the one of the few books they had, it was a luxury. Funny that at one time she considered books a luxury. 

A world of magical animals and revolutionaries. Forgotten songs and haunting spirits. A river that could make you forget and lead you to your true path if you were worthy. It was magical yet real, the fork between life and fantasy, filled with emotion and excitement that she thought she’d never experience in her small village. She wanted to live in and explore, while her mother warned that life would be similar but not as dramatic as fiction. 

That assurance was one of the few times her mother had definately been wrong. Her life was nothing like fiction.

But… 

“A little like you, this- this has taught me so many things. The value of being true to who you are, to be curious and understanding of cultures other than your own. That people are rarely how they first appear. No one, no big otherworldly thing is in charge of your fate. You make your own path. It- it has helped me through life. Especially with work. If no one has done something, well then I should do it. If I want to find out something or see someone’s true motives. I need to do the work myself. And then other times…” She trailed off, leaving the incident unsaid as they both knew exactly what she did not want to refer to. 

As good as being true to yourself was, it was harder to put those high ideals into action under Shuriki. She didn’t want to think about that now. 

Not now when it was a good day and a good time to just talk about books. 

Esteban gently nudged the book from her grasp, turning it around so he can admire the shiny, embossed leather with the gilted letters across the center.

It was clear that he was admiring the handiwork, Doña long recognized Esteban’s focused look. The small downturn on the corner of his lips, the furrowed brows and squint that hinted at the wrinkles that were starting to form around his eyes. Impressive that they were just beginning to show considering his age but still a headache to the image-conscious man. 

However, the time he took admiring the golden pages and detailed flowered curlicues embedded on the spine, prompted Doña to poke a little fun at him. Wanting to ask if he was admiring the workmanship or his reflection in the shiny leather?

But just as she was about to open her mouth, he looked at her. 

It wasn’t a remarkable look. It was a simple one between friends. Open, understanding, ready to discuss and dive into these fictional world with her and enjoy the adventure that had so captured her imagination and touched her heart. 

It was a look of connection. In the space of their often turbulent interactions, she had seen him in many ways, but this was a new side. 

And she appreciated his willingness as he said the words that sent a tingle of excitement up her spine. 

“I can’t wait to read this.”

#on the same page #my fanfic #my fanfiction #elena of avalor #estoma #platonic #esteban flores #doña paloma

[erabundus]

@prophecylinked

     Amanda shrugged with her good arm, eyes moving back up to face him with a huff of laughter at his seeming confusion, “It was back in Inazuma. ‘Course, it had only happened once... on paper.” She kept the rest a mystery, though it was a very obvious one with how she kept that part still audible. Not like Ren would judge her, or at least, for the action itself. Maybe for not keeping herself quiet, but after that night, it was hard to keep things too serious and distant. They weren’t strangers anymore, he truly was someone she could consistently count on. Her intuition and Noodle’s encouraging had been correct, in her eyes.

     “Hah, you really do know your stuff.” Her smile creeps into something smug, though truly it only come from sheer pride of the importance of her family’s quaint business. “It’s true. Any questions I had would be answered by morning if I paid enough attention. Though, usually it’s just if I had really seen someone with a wife who was out of town.” Her gossipy tone and roll of her eyes spoke of repeated experience, yet one she found fun nonetheless. It seemed to reminder of something as her eyebrows went up, and she effortlessly slipped into their native language to truly keep from any prying ears, “ああ、ギルドの冒険者らしく、ここに通い詰めている。ねえ、今の恋人に10回目は別の女といるって言えばお金もらえるよ。” The only hint at her words being her expression, but even that was only thoughtful and more introspective, pulling on her memory of what she had seen in the few days they had stayed here, “黒髪、青い目。彼は見逃すのが難しいです。”

❝  inazuma  is  filled  with  nonsensical  rules.  ❞   the  wanderer  muses,  with  a  dismissive  little  wave.  his  words  ooze  bias,  yet  he  hardly  CARES.   ❝  if  you  have  a  vision  and  a  proper  weapon  to  defend  yourself  with ...  you're  already  in  a  better  position  than  most. treating you like you're a helpless CHILD does you no favors.  ❞ the desire to protect can be equally harmful as ambition to harm. it's insidious; the world's cruelty is an inevitability. trying to protect one from it in its entirely is a WASTED effort. ( despite the desire to do so the wanderer knows all too well. ) better to expose oneself to it slowly, like building up a careful resistance to a particular type of TOXIN ... lest they end up crushed when it finds them unprepared.

a  faint,  PROUD  smile  pulls  at  the  corners  of  his  mouth.  he's  quick  to  cover  it  behind  a  hand  —  yet  ren  wouldn't  be  particularly  surprised  were  amanda  to  catch  a  glimpse  before  he  had  the  opportunity.  ❝  i  could  say  the  same  to  you.  ❞  the  wanderer  replies;  a  scrap  of  praise.  well  earned.  to  not  only  gather  the  information,  but  construct  a  method  from  which  to  capitalize  on  it ...  some  would  call  that  sort  of  thinking  devious,  perhaps  even  going  so  far  as  to  label  it  evil.  ren  would  prefer  to  call  it  pragmatic.

❝  do  you  know  what  a  thought  experiment  is?  the  name  is  fairly  self  explanatory.  ❞  much  as  the  wanderer  turns  his  nose  up  at  anything  to  do  with  experimentation  these  days,  there  is  POTENTIAL  here  for  a  learning  experience  he  doesn't  want  to  pass  on.  ❝  if  you  were  going  to  share  this  information  in  a  way  that  benefits  you  the  most ...  how  would  you  do  it?  telling  her  to  her  face  may  not  cut  it;  you're  taking  a  GAMBLE  by  implicating  yourself.  ❞

#prophecylinked #( i'm just throwing this in a new post bc boo hiss beta editor clunky )

[weirdfishy]

Fanfic asks: 6, 15, 24 and 29 <3

thx for the asks simona!! 💕

here’s the list of questions! (go wild)

2. Where do you get your fic ideas?

mainly here lmao; half of my fics have a link to a tumby post somewhere, and the other half are mashups/vibes of multiple ideas also from the hellsite

6. What's the last line you wrote?

"This was unexpected." (i SWEAR i'm working on a sequel to Unknown Caller ID fic, i SWEAR)

15. What's your favorite time to write?

prime writing time for me is from like 7p to 11p ish? depends on when i start to wind down from the day

24. How do you choose whose POV to write in?

i feel like it's not really a choice i have to sit down and Decide, when i start something there's either a certain vibe and/or certain info that i want to get across, and whoever fits that most usually slots into place

like, for unknown caller ID, it starts in danny's pov bc (imo) he's got a light tone that can easily slip in and out of something more serious, so for some crack treated seriously, he fit it. The next bit is going to be in damian's pov, and his is for the 'certain info' - we gotta know 1)his analysis of danny, 2)why he said that, which'll lead to the more plot-related stuff, and 3)we get to know the rest of the batfam's reactions through him, which i thought would be interesting. At first I was going to do a bruce pov after danny's, then dick's, but i realized they weren't central to what i wanted yet-- not like damian. Rn they're both just witnesses, and i can get to their introspection on the first meet later

29. What's something about your writing that you're proud of?

100% my progress; i remember how proud i was at my earlier works, n i remember how i also didn't like all of them, but letting myself be not completely perfect (imo) in what i post is freeing. i still get that mix of pride and cringe, but i recognize that i have improved; the things i'm cringing at are different, i'm proud of things i used to cringe at, and not everything i write is like bleeding me out emotionally lmao

#askboxx #mashumaru #simona ✨ #frien ask #tagg@me #fanfiction asks

[arknights-imagines]

waa hello! can i get a valentine's letter from tequila? i just love him sm HSJHS :(( (/pos) thank you!!<33

From, Tequila

Valentine's Day Letter and Date Event

Admittedly - though Valentine’s Day had imbued the nearly entirety of Rhodes Island’s atmosphere with warm exuberance - you felt uneasy as the romantic day approached. It had nothing to do with Valentine’s Day itself, however. Instead it was that Rhodes Island was at present returning to Dossoles for diplomatic matters.

You shut the door of your office after a visit from Amiya, from whom you received a stack of documents; Valentine’s Day nor Rhodes Island’s visit to Dossoles would be a holiday for you, you realized, as you furrowed your brows at all the papers you would have to read, sign, and sort.

Nevertheless you carry the stack to your desk with a huff, strewing them over your desktop in order to scan your eyes over all their titles and choose where to start. As your hand spread them out across, however, something anomalous is revealed from underneath some of the papers and causes from you a small hum of confusion.

It’s a sheet of notebook paper folded neatly in a square; it smells faintly of alcohol, though apart from that you see nothing distinctive on it after turning the square in your hands. Your brow lifts as you wonder on how such a little thing found itself among the stack of mission reports and Operator applications, for a moment you’re worried someone's private notes got lost with your papers. But then - you carefully unfold it.

The confusion on your face shifts to gentle shock, then softens into affection. You completely forget about the documents that call for your attention, and instead your focus is rapt on the rounded handwriting, easily-recognizable - to you, at least - that's on the paper.

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

Hey [name],

It’s me. How are you feeling today, sunshine?

I’m gonna be honest here, I’d rather be speaking these words to you. There’s benefit to writing letters, of course, but things like tone, face expression and body language aren’t any of them. I have to take care of some things, so I guess this will do for now.

Anyway, I’m sure you can guess what the special occasion is, right? It’s Valentine’s Day. [Name], sunshine, you are my lover, no? So it’s only right that I have something up my sleeve for us and today, naturally. Haha, truth is, I’ve never even thought twice about occasions like this until now.

That being said, this letter isn't for Valentine’s only. I guess I want to tell you something���and since we’re here, I might as well.

Don’t get all worked up when I start like this, [name], but I’m going to move onto something more serious. Haha, I know. It’s not really like me to say stuff like that. Trust me a little, alright?

As everyone could see, I adapted quickly to life at Rhodes Island. No issues. After all, I was still very young when the old man threw me into the army and when I first arrived in Dossoles, so I’ve got lots of experience. But, honestly, I was still making sense of my thoughts.

Of course, as the Doctor of Rhodes Island, you’ve always known or have been told exactly what to do. But me…I’ve got no idea, haha. Between my old man and the dark syndicate at the heart of Dossoles, I don't remember the last time I was able to think for myself or introspect on how I felt.

But sunshine, let me tell you the truth… when this warm feeling, something like the sun, started in my chest whenever you were near me…I knew I was in trouble, haha. I tried denying it still, telling myself that Ernesto Salas falling in love wouldn't fly, but nothing could’ve been done about it. Your skin is warm and soft, your face is so cute, your eyes are scintillating, and I love your smile. I couldn’t keep myself from thinking this way about you, [name]. Ah, actually, even now, I can’t stop.

Haha, I suppose they’d call me a love-struck loser? Sure. But I see no shame in losing like this, because well…I love you. I do.

You can tell, can’t you, sunshine? Hmm, sometimes I really worry that you might’ve seen through me from the start. You’re one of the few who can make me nervous like this because of that. But in case maybe you aren't sure after all, again, it's like I said.

I want you so much, [name]. Every day, I promise I do.

…Phew. It feels much better now that I got all that off my chest. Now, [name], I can actually tell you about Valentine’s Day.

Tell you the truth, I really didn't know what I wanted to do for today. Anything that came to mind, well, were all much too obvious and not much fun. I spent the whole night thinking, but now that we’re in Dossoles, I’ve finally got it. Haha, don’t worry about it too much, there won't be any problems. As long as you’re with me, [name], you can always rest easy knowing you’re in good hands.

Alright. I’ve said what I’ve needed to say, and maybe even more than I meant to, haha…I think my heart is warm and fuzzy enough for a lifetime, too.

Come look for me when you’re ready, sunshine.

Ernesto

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

Your heart is doubtlessly soaring and your expression is filled with love as you read Tequila’s name signed at the end of his letter. You make a mental reminder to praise him later on - he’s equally as charming with written words as he is with spoken ones, the paper in your hand is proof of so.

You don't even glance at the papers piled on your desk, you’re already removing your Rhodes Island coat then heading out of our office to begin searching the city for the Perro.

Fortunately, you don't need to do much work in that regard; you approach Dossoles’ pier, when out of nowhere a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. Before you react in shock, an all too familiar laugh meets your ears - “Haha, finally found you, sunshine.”

Your surprise turns to cheer right away. Chiming with a light laugh yourself, you tilt your head to meet eyes with Tequila who wears a playful grin on his face. “Ernesto…don’t sneak up on me like that.” Though your words are scolding your tone clearly tells the Perro that you’re happy to see him, and so he rolls his eyes half-heartedly in reply. “Alright. Come here.” His hands stay on your waist as he turns you to face him, and you comply completely; warmth comes to Tequila’s expression when he says his next words, “Mm, Happy Valentine’s Day, [name].”

You return his greeting while you're smiling softly, and after you inquire, “What do you have planned for today?” The Perro perks up a little in reply, “Ah, right. Now that you’re here…” Taking it from his pocket, he presents a slip of paper in front of your face. Your head tilts to the side a little, “A ticket?” He nods, “Correct. Want to guess for what?” Eyes becoming thoughtful, you avert your gaze and sift through your mind for possibilities, “...a movie?” This time he shakes his head, then glances indiscreetly at the grand ships docked nearby, “Now take another guess.”

The way Tequila practically points your attention toward the ships causes your brows knit together. You think for a moment as you stare at the ticket, then your eyes snap open in realization, “A couple’s cruise? How did you manage that?”

A grin grows on the Perro’s lips, he rewards you by placing the ticket into your hand, “Haha, I thought you wouldn’t figure it out. I might’ve been exiled by Mayor Candela, but I’ve still got a few connections around Dossoles. Now-...” When you visibly hesitate, he pauses.

While a dread fills you if you think about the papers still on your desk, but even on holidays you still have a responsibility as the Rhodes Island’s Doctor. You sigh, “Thank you for this, but…we’ve still got our work, Ernesto.” He blinks, “We’re not in trouble if we go away for a few days. Does a Dossoles cruise with me not sound good?” You're very quick to shake your head, “Of course I want to go with you, but can I at least bring my Rhodes Island paperwork-” “Ugh. No way, sunshine. Negotiation failed, then.” When Tequila cuts in lightheartedly with a click of his tongue, you lift a brow; though by the time eyes glint with playfulness, it was already too late for you, “Alright, [name], how about this-”

Before you can even protest, the Perro takes you in his arms and - thanks to his height - is already quickly heading towards the cruise ships in the distance. “What- Ernesto!” You attempt to hiss at him, though it doesn't work much; the warmth spreading through your chest from his antics and the sudden close proximity instead causes your words to come out in a chime of laughter.

“Sorry, you’re coming with me.” The mischief lingers in his gaze, though you notice a genuineness ease into his smile. Tequila’s words leave him tenderly and tone lifts with liveliness when he speaks, continuing to carry you down the pier, “I’m not keen on using violence to resolve my problems, sunshine, but given that you weren’t cooperating…haha, well, I can't let you off so easy, right?”

#this is my first time writing for tequila so i hope i did him justice 🥺!! #and tysm to all the anons svshsbs golden retriever man is starting to grow on me too 👉👈 #arknights #arknights imagines #arknights tequila #arknights x reader #tequila arknights #ernesto salas #arknights imagine #exe's events - valentine's day letter and date event 2022 #valentine's day #valentine's event #arknights fanfics #arknights fanfic #arknights writing #imagine #imagines #writing #tequila #ernesto #valentine's

[m-y-fandoms]

COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 3

This fic assumes Mishima isn't a confidant, the reader is the Moon arcana instead, keep this in mind.

word count: 6.3k words, SFW

- Admin Myah

Over the next few weeks spent with Akira, or… Joker, as he seemed to be called when the situation demanded, you learned that the world was much more complicated than you ever could’ve dreamed. Sure, you praised yourself for being a little less of a sheep than the idle-brained teenagers of your everyday life who thought of nothing but gossip, status and appearances, but now you felt insignificant, like you’d been asleep all this time until Akira, Ryuji and Ann had placed six symbolic hands upon you, and shaken you to life. Layers upon layers, he explained the subconscious world that lay beneath, which ached to be revealed, only to those who’d open their eyes.

＊

It’d been a rush, your first time in the Metaverse. You’d insisted to Akira, though he protested, that you wanted to see what all of this near-unbelievable nonsense he was explaining was all about. He’d never taken non-Phantom-Thief confidants into the Metaverse, and he was hesitant, silent for a long while before deciding that your help was worth the risk. After all, he’d already told you everything, and they had no way to erase memories… yet.

You remember Akira taking your hand, the skin on skin contact. Up on the school’s rooftop with Ryuji and Ann flanking you, Akira had told you it was a precaution, to make absolutely sure that you transferred into the Metaverse with them and landed in the same place. You had to be touching one of them, for your safety, and he’d eagerly volunteered. With the cat in his bag seeming to smile at you over his shoulder (an occurrence which made you feel like you were going looney already) he tapped an app icon on his phone, some scary red little square, and with that, your body lifted, began to float, or so it seemed. Red completely consumed your vision, red and black ink like those blobs you’d seen the Phantom Thieves appear from when this all began. You gasped, stumbling back a step as if you could escape the all-encompassing wave, and Akira, sensing your trepidation, squeezed your hand slightly.

The rooftop faded, and you felt like a character from a videogame fast-traveling to their destination. Almost as fast as it appeared, the trippy red and black sludge subsided, and before you sat a dark, dreary scenery. A castle, one that obviously belonged to a malevolent ruler sat amongst a purple sky and the smell of despair.

“What the…” your mouth hung agape for a second, taking in your surroundings before letting your eyes trail down to where your hand met Akira’s. Assuming you no longer needed it, you shook him off gently, not even sparing a glance his way, and his eyebrows creased just the smallest amount, not that you noticed. You were too focused on the giant cat before you, knee-height, with a round, bulbous head. “Is… are you-?!”

“Much more handsome and dashing in this form, wouldn’t you say?” Morgana - now confirmed - gave you a sly look as you leaned down to his height to run your hand along the fur on his head.

“Wow… so cute!” You cooed.

“Hey! Stop it! Stop it! I am a warrior and to be taken seriously!” he whined, shooing away your hands, his fur on end.

“Ha!” a sharp laugh rang out behind you, and you turned to see that Morgana wasn’t the only one who’d made a drastic change. Ryuji was now clad in some kind of leather pirate’s uniform, his demeanor far more fearsome and a skull mask across his face. Ann donned a skin-tight body suit and cat mask, and Akira wore a lavish long coat, red gloves, and a masquerade mask. He looked like a magician from some fairytale, or perhaps the leader of some band of Robin-Hood-inspired band of vigilantes… although you supposed that was kind of what he was now… either way, he would make amazing source material for your main protagonist. Such swagger, a commanding presence… he didn’t seem to exactly be the same Akira you’d met earlier.

＊

The trip to the Metaverse was almost completely uneventful… almost. Just once, when you’d begged Akira to press forward and show you the inside of the castle, something called a “shadow” attacked, and you got to see the band of thieves in action. It was shocking, leaving chills running down your spine. Here were your classmates, people your age with ghost-like spirits materializing at their backs, flipping through the castle’s corridors, shooting guns and slingshots and magic at terrifying beasts. It was all so fast-paced, so stunning, that your body locked up witnessing the battle. A shadow spotted you in the background, defenseless and clearly not part of the Phantom Thief entourage, and taking the petty opportunity only a sore-loser on the ropes would take, struck out against you. You shrieked, your hands uselessly coming up to defend your face as if it would help. Akira’s eyes widened, his reflexes so much faster in this realm, and turned on his heel, diving in front of you to deflect the blast of frosty energy swirling toward you. It bounced off of the side of his large steel dagger and ricoheted back at the shadow. After assessing the situation and asking if you were okay, Akira decided it was time to return you back to the real world. It was too dangerous for someone without a persona to wander here. The thieves would return later, once you were safe at home.

＊

Anyway, now you believed him, you knew everything he was saying, about Kamoshida and his fucked up mind, about confidants, personas and metacognition was real and very much a serious matter. Now all that was left was to decide just how you could help them, what kind of deal you could strike with the clever leader of the Phantom Thieves. Of course, he didn’t expect you to get something and give nothing.

It was decided that you’d offer your knowledge as a writer to help with negotiation and charming shadows in the Metaverse. You’d turn those golden lines you wrote on the pages into real-life lessons, and Akira would learn to seduce shadows, to out-smart them, to persuade them to give up everything they had: their money, precious belongings, even their very selves. He would flirt, threaten, intimidate, any honeyed word or silver-tongued method he could use to make deals with shadows go along more smoothly. Perfect. It would help him out immensely. But, what did you want, he’d asked again.

It felt embarrassing, now that you were put on the spot, forced to disclose it, but although those “golden words” translated well into lessons for others, you found that you couldn’t as easily take your own advice. You struggled with human interaction in your real life, especially of the romantic kind. You could write a healthy relationship out on paper, create the ideal love interest from scratch for a story, but stumbled along words like some socially incompetent fool once it came time to apply that knowledge. As much as you hated to admit it, these days even getting true, realistic romantic moments down on paper was a struggle. The well was drying up, writer’s block, as you’d explained it to your online friends. It was near impossible to make something from nothing, and you had nothing. No real romantic experience. You couldn’t help but think this was the route of the problem. Your writing, your precious romance novel would flourish, if only it’s author wasn’t completely clueless.

“Date me…” You mumbled, surprised out how your long moment of pensive introspection had accumulated into this clunky statement.

“What?” Akira let out a breath he’d seemed to be holding the entire time, just watching you think on what method of reciprocity was worth your help. Losing your nerve at the incredulous tone of his voice and the raise of his brows, you shrunk back a bit, ready to defend your words.

“W-wait!” You held a hand out between you. “Not really. I mean…” how to word this…? “Like, fake!” He looked even more confused than before. You released a noise of frustration. “What I mean is, you take me on dates - fake ones - stupid little stuff couples do, for my writing, of course…” You looked toward the ground, suddenly extremely interested in your shoes.

“How does that benefit you in any way?” He smiled, a bit forced, a blush dusting his pale cheeks.

“Well I- I’ve been having writer's block lately. I mean sure, I can give you lines and lessons from my previous works, drabble and things I’ve learned, written down in the past, but I have no fresh material. Stagnation is every writer’s downfall, but I have no experience, I need more to go off of… and then maybe I can even transfer what I discern from our… interactions - er… dates I mean - to you. Does that make sense?” You looked up at him hopefully.

“Uh… no,” Yeah, you knew it didn’t, but that’s all you had for him. His hand shook, much less confident as Akira than Joker, and he shoved it in his pocket.

“It’s hard to explain, I just… that’s my deal. Will you take it?” You clutched your bag a little closer to your body. “We don’t even have to tell anybody. I just want to experience it… going out… with someone…” It sounded a little more pathetic now that you were actually hearing yourself. You both stood in silence, Akira contemplating your words. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you as a person… it was just… complicated…

“Give me a day to think about it,” he spoke quietly, giving you a polite send off before parting ways.

That night, anxiety set in as you rolled around in your bed restlessly.

Did you sound like a creep? Were you being unreasonable? Was this asking too much of him? Does he think you’re crazy? You’ll probably never hear from him again. He’d probably rather find a way in that crazy Metaverse to erase your memories so he can forget the awkward exchange ever happened. Maybe he’ll kick your shadow’s ass one day.

You debated going to school the next day.

＊

Akira’s night, though not as horrendous as yours, was not a peaceful one. Like so many nights, he found himself awoken to the clink of a ball and chain, dressed in striped rags as he stood and walked to the bars of his cell. The twins were waiting, as always, anger in their eyes.

“Look alive, prisoner!” Caroline spoke.

“Our master would have a word with you!” Justine chimed in. Akira looked up, meeting Igor’s large grin.

“You’ve forsaken a bond, Trickster. One must ask, why?” Igor’s hands splayed over a deck on cards on his desk.

“Huh…? What do you mean?” Sleep lingering in his mind, and confused as to why he was here this time, Akira replied.

“I’ve told you, the bonds you strengthen over time and the new bonds you form, they will be what wins this fight. You can only complete your mission, save all that is, through the support your confidants provide, so why have you abandoned this bond?” Igor’s fingers folded together, hands clasped, a show of disappointment. “Now is not the time to not try hard enough.” Was that a hint of frustration in his tone? If so, he didn’t show it.

“...I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Akira rubbed one eye lazily.

“You’re not trying to understand, worm! Wake up!” Caroline’s fist banged down across the bars, startling Akira slightly. He looked to Igor again, who held up a single card between two fingers. On its face sat two wolves, both howling up at a glittering moon.

“The Moon.” Igor stated plainly. “Illusion, fear, anxiety, intuition, uncertainty, complexity, secrets, the unconscious mind. A friend, a possible lover, someone unsure of themselves and others. Creativity, shadowed by doubt. Someone who supports others but not themselves.” As he spoke, images of your face flashed in Akira’s mind. Igor threw the card into the air, catching it upside-down, letting the wolves fall into the moon, swimming in its glow. “Reversed: release of fear, repressed emotion, clarity, misinterpretations overturned. Someone who can fix what was upright. But you’ve passed over the opportunity.” Igor swipes his free hand in front of the card, and it disappears.

Scenes play out in Akira’s head. Confrontation with shadows, confrontations with real people, but these aren’t real… or rather, haven’t happened yet.

He receives clarity.

The Moon has more to offer than lessons on charisma, seduction, trickery, persuasion. His intuition will grow, his ability to perceive things before they happen, the ability to read and understand people, and be understood in return. Other bonds will grow, empathy will grow. More friends, closer friends, a flash of blue hair, white uniform, red hair, headphones, then a tidy uniform, a Shujin uniform, gloves, a beige jacket, and finally bouncy curls and a soft, high pitched voice. With your help, the Phantom Thieves can grow. Bonds will strengthen. Complexity, Igor had said. More than meets the eye. Was there more to you? You weren’t too bad, obviously intelligent… a bit odd, but kind enough, and he did find you cute… but pretending, a fake relationship? How could a fake bond strengthen

The card reappears, as if out of thin air, and Igor points to one upside down wolf.

“Me.” Joker whispers, as if guided by an unseen force. Igor points to the other wolf.

You.

He awakens with a start, nearly knocking Morgana off the bed. He has an answer for you now.

＊

He finds you at school the next day, huddled in the library and not where you’d said you’d meet him. You’d been dreading this, waiting for the rejection, your hand trembling slightly on the book in your hands. He sits across from you, a look of determination on his face. Waiting for him to speak was torture.

“I’ll do it.” He holds out a hand, waiting for you to shake it, seal the deal. A contact has been signed.

＊

Your first date with Akira is clunky, unpracticed, unprecedented of course. He doesn’t know much about what to do, either, so he takes you to Le Blanc for dinner. Some coffee and curry, maybe a soda and some conversation on the side? It couldn’t be too bad, right? That’s what dudes do, he thought, bring their... pretend sweetheart somewhere for dinner, right? Sojiro is teasing, of course, wondering who this new person was, why Akira was holding their hand. He smirks like a dad proud of his boy, and Akira, too embarrassed under Sojiro’s scrutiny now to sit down and serve you curry, rushes you upstairs.

After being dragged by the hand up rickety old stairs, you end up in Akira’s room alone. You look around, taking in his sparse decorations, humble belongings. It then strikes you that you are, in fact, alone. Alone with a boy in his room, for the first time in your life. You didn’t know how you got here, and so fast. Maybe you were in over your head. Maybe you just needed to calm down. This was part of the process, right? Real couples did this, to get to know each other. He beckons you over, gestures for you to sit on his bed with him. You’re hesitant, but Akira isn’t making a big deal out of it, and you’re not really alone, with Morgana right there, so you sit, as far from him as you could be on the surprisingly soft bed. Struggling for words and new to dates himself, Akira decides to treat you first and foremost like his friend. That makes this all easier.

He spends the next hour or so describing Mementos, his mentor Igor, the twins. He wants you to know everything, and it surprises him. His other confidants, save for the actual Phantom Thieves, don’t know anything about the hidden world their bonds are healing. He describes the arcana to you, the tarot, the way his soul resonates with The Fool, Ryuji The Chariot, Ann The Lovers. His doctor friend is Death, Sojiro the Hierophant. Morgana here is the Magician, and proud of it. He explains how he feels a bond with them, as he now does with you. They make him feel like he can do anything. You’re included in that now. You feel warmth rise to your cheeks. How could he say that so casually? It wasn’t like it was a love confession or whatever, but you had trouble seriously telling your online friends you appreciated having them in your lives without adding a joke or meme in there somewhere. Why did he even need your help? He seemed well spoken. You said so, voicing these opinions aloud.

“Huh.. you know, I actually don’t usually talk this much,” he smiled. “Must just be you.” He was only half teasing. You looked away nervously, feeling the need to change the subject.

“S-so, what am I?” You began to stroke Morgana’s fur, and this time he didn’t seem to mind.

“You mean your soul?” He scooted a bit closer.

“Yeah.” It didn’t go unnoticed.

“The Moon.” He replied softly.

He spent the rest of the night explaining the levels of Mementos, and some of the wicked people whose hearts he’s had the displeasure of seeing inside, but the absolute pleasure of changing. You say you aren’t surprised so many people are walking around so hurt inside or eager to hurt others. When the “date” ends - neither of you having even gotten that promised coffee or curry downstairs - you’re touching, sitting shoulder to shoulder looking at the moon outside his window with Morgana on your lap. The room seems a little warmer, a little less humble. Akira mentions with a sheepish grin that it’s getting late, and offers to walk you home.

Rank Up!

＊

You sit in your bed that night, Akira now having returned to Le Blanc, and think about if this will make good writing material or not. You had to have learned something, right? There was something to be gained from every experience… but you can’t help feeling like you’ve warmed up to the thought of Akira a bit more… not too much, however. You smiled to yourself at the thought of The Fool, tricked into dating the Moon, for all it can offer him.

He’d been so awkward at your front door when he dropped you off. You could tell he had no clue what to do. He was frantically looking around. People in movies kissed their date at this point, cheek or lips, depending on how the date went, right? He confessed that he’s one of those people who truly don’t know anything about romance, like you’d mentioned earlier in one of your conversations. You tell him it’s fine, that you didn’t expect anything, that you just met the other day. He thought he was being clear, dropping hints that he might want to peck your cheek, just a quick gesture to kick off your fake relationship, but maybe he wasn’t as slick as he thought. The hints seemed to go over your head. Maybe he really did need help.

＊

Your second date comes in the form of you begging to go back into the Metaverse for some inspiration. He fights you, bringing up the last time a shadow attacked you, but you are persistent. He gives in, taking you to the highest rung of Mementos, where the shadows are weak and he can keep you safe adequately on his own. It is a date, after all, no Phantom Thieves tagging along. Mementos is a bit more frightening than Kamoshida’s Palace, you mention, and he eases your fear, promising to protect you here, always. You take in his Phantom Thief uniform in more detail as you walk the long corridors of the realm of the subconscious and decide he looks quite handsome in it.

You watch him battle a demon that is the personification of lust, a succubus-like creature dripping with temptation and love, or so it thinks. Joker uses all that you’ve taught him so far, which isn’t much, and cons the false idol of love out of their money. It was quite comical yet a bit sad to watch the shadows expression fall from a cocky to a defeated one, but preformative love you’ve decided, is doomed to lose. The irony flies over your head.

From this experience, watching Joker fight with speed and grace, you settle on a genre for your novel. It will be a high-fantasy romance. Joker will inspire your main character, of course, but the love interest… was still undecided. You started drafting her to look like Ann, act like Ann, give off the energy and power Ann does. Ryuji was an option at first as well to inspire the love interest’s personality, but he was a bit too brash. You wanted someone strong, but soft and elegant at the same time. These characters were loosely based on the Phantom Thieves, anyway, so it didn’t really matter.

＊

When you leave the Metaverse, though Akira is a bit exhausted, he takes you to a local casual restaurant to make up for the last time at Le Blanc. There, sitting across the counter from you two is an older gentleman. Yoshida, Akira whispers, is a friend of his, another confidant. The Sun. Yoshida makes small talk, asking politely if you’re with Akira, and you feel your stomach clench. You knew this was fake, the agreement was clear, but hearing it aloud, the awkward ‘we’re just friends’ that was coming made you sweat. It still felt like rejection anyway. When Akira confirms that yes, you are in fact dating, your eyes widen, the coil in your stomach releasing. He smiles, taking your hand. This has to be an act, a show to play up the relationship. He’s just performing his duty, his role, holding up his end of the deal in order to simulate a real relationship and give you worthwhile source material… right?

Either way, you appreciate not being publicly humiliated, and smile back. That night, you write down everything, and what it’s like to not be alone.

Rank Up!

＊

Days pass, Kamoshida coming and going, justice being served, and you spend more and more time with your fake boyfriend. Your parents let him come over, and in your room you let him read some of the old poetry you’ve written, some lame pining drabble from your younger years, and some more recent things you’re proud of. He scours your room, digging up old hobbies and photos. You tell him all about them. He tells you he enjoys learning these things about you. You simply smile. It doesn’t seem to be the reaction he was looking for. Not liking the small frown that adorns his features, you pick the conversation back up, asking if he thinks you’ll ever have a persona. He smiles, maybe someday.

Rank Up!

＊

The Phantom Thieves are gaining fame, only more fodder for your writing. The more you hang out with Akira and his friends, the more real it feels. Your online friends can feel it, too. They sense you changing, talking less of writing and more of Akira. They tease you, of course, but they don’t get it. He’s just a main character… just a muse.

This time, Akira walks home to Le Blanc alone, wondering if he should tell you how he feels. He doesn’t like it, holding up this pretense of a fake relationship, pretending the glances and touches don’t matter. He wants to tell you…

...that he’s slowly falling.

You receive a little gift in the mail the next day. It’s a deck of tarot cards. The return address is blank. You call him to tell him all about it, and end up discussing the pros and cons of each card all night. What a coincidence that you should receive your own deck all of a sudden.

Rank Up!

＊

There are moments where you’re afraid you may be falling, too. There was the time that a blue-haired young man stalked you and your friends through Shibuya, turning corners when you did, always on your trail. When Ryuji finally got fed up and confronted the weirdo, asking why the hell he was following you guys, he’d revealed that his name was Yusuke, a student of a painting master, and that he was simply following inspiration where it lead.

“Your friend there, I was drawn to them,” he points elegantly, like some manga bishounen, past Ryuji and toward you. “I beg of you, allow me to paint your form. Something about your normalcy stands out. What I mean is, there is beauty to be found in not standing out, a silent grace in being so plain.” You could tell Yusuke meant no harm, that he simply may be a bit socially inept with his words, as well, but the way he was talking about you set something in Akira on fire. He stood in front of you, shifting until his body blocked yours from Yusuke’s sight.

“They aren’t plain.” He spoke with a dangerous edge to his tone, and you felt your heartbeat speed up. The hint of jealousy in his voice at Yusuke’s request for you to model for him, and anger at him calling someone he found so fascinating plain was evident.

＊

Yusuke seemed to be in denial in the coming days. Though your little troupe seemed to constantly be bumping into him, offering him sound advice and trying to awaken him to the mire of corruption that was the truth behind his mentor, Ichiryusai Madarame, he refused to see reason. He dove further into his art, but you could tell he was hurting. You used your time with Akira these days to teach him how art, much like film and literature, can reflect false truths and influence people. The deception, corruption and shallowness of the media extended to the art world, as he learned after one or two gallery visits with you.

It was then, in a gallery displaying Yusuke’s work, as you sat in a secluded corner alone discussing ways to take down Madarame, that Akira started to flirt incessantly.

He takes your hand, bringing up romantic tropes in movies he’s seen that seem so forced, one-sided, cliche, uncomfortable. He mentions that he would’ve done better, explains how those scenes would’ve played out if he had any say.

“Is that so?” Your brow raises, amused by how animated this usually quiet boy could be when he was passionate about something.

“Yeah! Of course! What, you don’t see me doing that?” he laughed breathily, going on about how the male lead of some high-school romance film Sojiro rented for him was clumsy, forceful, and didn't give his lover time and space to think about their feelings. “I would’ve treated them much, much better… “ his words trail off, as if lost in thought.

“...Is that so?” You ask again, studying his face and asking yourself how you didn’t notice before how beautiful the hue of his eyes were. You sure as hell were noticing now… steely grey, sharp, deep, purposeful. You’d have to write that down… for research purposes of course. When you pull yourself back to reality, no longer lost in the swirl of his irises, you realize he’s staring at you, and has been for some time.

“Do… can I-” he speaks, throat dry, and scoots himself closer. “May I kiss you…?” His voice is soft, so soft, scared.

“...Yes.” You answer, naturally, impulsively, voice just as soft. When Akira leans forward, and softly presses his apprehensive lips to yours, you feel like you’ve been set on fire. Your mind begins to go crazy, while your body is frozen. It’s not that you didn’t like it, some part of you did. You wanted more, but it felt wrong. This wasn’t real. You didn’t truly like him… right? This kiss was fake, for research purposes… to cure writer’s block…

...right?

You were frozen more from guilt than nerves. Weren’t first kisses supposed to feel like little butterflies in your stomach? Did he think he owed you this? Were you taking advantage of him at this point? Did he feel forced to kiss you to keep up his end of the bargain?

Akira deepened the kiss, a hand on the back of your neck, guiding you, begging you to reciprocate. When you didn’t, lost in your own head, he pulls away, a small frown tugging at his lips.

“W-we… we should head home. I’ll walk you…” he sighs. You both stand, make your way back onto the main street from the museum, and are silent the entire walk home.

You think he’s silent because you’ve forced him to think he needs to kiss you, and now regrets his decision. He thinks you’re silent because he’s just forced a kiss upon you, just like some Chad from a movie who can’t understand boundaries. Neither of you know your silence is for the exact same reasons.

Akira drops you off at home with a quiet ‘goodnight,’ and walks home, clearing his head in the cool night air.

“Stupid… jeez… fuckin’ stupid,” he huffs, repirmanding himself. This wasn’t real. You’d stated that from the beginning. This relationship was to benefit your writing, to help him in the Metaverse, nothing else. Nothing else.

Nothing. Else.

It was his fault he let himself develop real feelings. He has no right to be sad, to blame you, to get upset. You’d stated the terms from the very start…

Maybe he really was The Fool.

Rank Up…?

＊

The next few weeks are awkward.

Both of you think it’s your fault.

You go on dates like usual, but they are strictly business. You get writing material, he gets advice, no touching, and certainly no kissing. Yusuke joins the group. Things are great… friendly… strained, tense. Akira wonders what the hell he’s doing, if this bond is even worth it. Weeks pass. He feels your bond with him growing, but not in the way he wishes. It felt like all of his other confidants: visit, gain, rank up, gain power, learn. He wonders if he can keep this up. His heart aches. He wants to touch you more, but can’t, wants to tell you more, but won’t let himself.

＊

One rainy night, he calls you, like he often does when you can’t meet up in person, and tells you he can’t do this anymore. You lie, and say you agree. The guilt won’t let you tell him the truth, that you want to end the farce, move onto something more real. You can sense your feelings for him growing stronger each day, and it’s not fair to him. Without fighting, without the big “it’s not you it’s me you” you’re used to reading about in books, you tell him you respect his decision, and it’s over. When Akira hangs up, he finds himself a bit angry inside. You didn’t even try to fight for the relationship. There was a tiny little part of him that hoped you felt anything for him, that maybe it meant something to you. He cries that night, for the first time in a long time. They are angry tears, frustrated ones.

＊

In your bed, you find yourself sitting upright, dead inside, unfeeling, empty. You feel like a part of you is gone, but can’t pinpoint why. You don’t even notice the tears sliding down your own cheeks as you sift through the pack of tarot cards that mysteriously came into your life. You find The Moon, and play with it, twisting it between your fingers before sending it flying across the room like a paper dart. Did this mean you couldn’t hang out with the Phantom Thieves anymore? Were you losing your only in-real-life friends and… boyfriend(?) all in the same day?

You sifted through the cards and gently set aside the Emperor, the Lovers, the Chariot. Then your hand drifted over the Fool. You held it out in front of your face. A dancing man looking up at the sky with a jesters cap perched upon his head smiled back at you.

The start of a great journey, freedom from constraints. Each day is an adventure. Courage, anything can happen. There is a need to experience new things, to let yourself experience the love you deserve. Be willing to take risks.

A sad, thoughtful smile crosses your lips. You turn the card upside down.

If you disregard the repercussions of your actions, you are the Fool. You cannot see the position you’ve put yourself in. Is everything what it seems to be?

A breath catches in your throat, a wave of nausea hitting you. You scramble for your phone, and dial a number.

Silence, ringing, silence.

“...Yeah…?” Akira sniffles. He’s been crying???

“I want… can we talk… can I come over?”

“It’s late.”

“It’s not, we came home way earlier than usual. You’re just using that as an excuse.” You were feeling a little braver than usual, the spirit of the Fool within you. You heard him thinking, a sigh that came through as static.

“Yeah… fine, I’ll be waiting.” Relief washed over you.

＊

When you knocked on the door after speed-walking to Le Blanc, Sojiro let you in with a warm smile. He obviously didn’t know about your falling out with Akria, yet.

“He’s upstairs,” he gestured, exhaustion evident in his voice. You rushed past, thanking him with a small bow of your head. Only now was the inevitable fear starting to sink in. Akira heard footsteps creaking on the stairs. Sojiro never came up unannounced, and with that realization, his back stiffened. Morgana picked up your scent, excusing himself, passing you on your way up the stairs. He could take a hint.

He stood immediately, stepping toward you, stopping halfway. You shrunk into yourself, unable to meet his eyes.

“Akira… I wanted to talk…” you muttered.

“You said that… about what?” He was more than a little pissed, but he was always one to hide his temper well.

“Can we sit…?” You gestured to his small sofa. It didn’t feel right to sit on the bed. He hesitated, before shuffling over and sitting next to you. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?” Oh, there were so many things, but he wanted to know what you thought was worth apologizing over. Maybe he wasn’t being fair, he dialed back his attitude a tad.

“For… making you enter into the agreement in the first place. Someone’s affections, their love, their touch and body… it’s not something that can be forced. It should never be pretend.” You felt like the biggest hypocrite ever right now. His head shook a bit in disbelief, blinking hard.

“I wasn’t pretending!” His hands flew to his hair, mussing it. “That was the problem.” He sighed heavily.

“What?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“I wasn’t being forced… are you… you must be the most oblivious person I’ve ever met.” He laughed cynically.

“But-”

“Wait, wait, why did you think I ended our” he put air quotes up, “ ‘fake’ relationship.” He needed this clarification, now. For closure, for redemption, to fix things, whatever may come next.

“Because… because I was forcing you to date me! You were uncomfortable?!” You could feel your voice begin to break, tears clawing to escape. You’d never felt so disgusted with yourself as you did right now.

“Are you serious?” He took both of your hands, looking you in the eyes. You nod. “Answer truthfully. Do you have feelings for me? Real ones?” You bit your lip, that feeling of selfish guilt creeping like bile up your throat. You nod again. “This whole time?” Another nod. He releases you, turning away. “Sheesh, maybe I’m the oblivious one here…” he spoke more to himself than to you. You both sat in tense silence, not sure what to do, what to say.

“Akira…”

“It was real to me,” he moved closer, trapping you against the end of the couch.

“Really?” Your heartbeat was going crazy, and he leaned ever so slightly closer, his hand on the back of the couch for support. “I broke up with you because it was hurting me to pretend I didn’t have real feelings for you, and to think you didn’t want me back, not for real. I thought… that you’d always think of me as just some character for your book.”

“No… Akira… had I known you felt this way…” He leaned in further, your noses bumping slightly, clumsily. This time, he felt no discomfort, no hesitation from your side. His heart fluttered in excitement. You could feel his breath on your warm cheeks.

“May I kiss you?” He asked again, a secondary, unspoken question sitting beneath his words.

“Yes.” Your voice was shaky, but you were sure, for once, of what you wanted. His hand went to your back, cradling you into his chest to lay down flat against the couch. With a passion he’d been holding back, he pressed his lips to yours without reservation. You sunk into the warm, plush feeling, tilting your head at a better angle. He kept the kiss soft, shallow, low pressure, looking for you to give him the signal to stop. When your arms reached upward, snaking around his neck and pulling him harder down into you, he groaned softly, barely audible, before passing his tongue over your lips a single time. You parted your lips, allowing him access, and his hand, pale and trembling, came up and found its way under the hem of your shirt, splayed nervously against the smooth skin there.

#akira kurusu x reader #ren amamiya x reader #persona 5 protagonist x reader #persona 5 #joker persona 5 #joker persona x reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #reaction #fanfiction #fluff #sfw #angst #friends to lovers #female reader #male reader #ryuji sakamoto #ann takamaki #shin megami tensei #scenario #anime fanfiction #s/o #reader insert #first kiss #romance

[ellewriteswrongs]

layers of love - prinxiety

1.8k words

ao3 / ko-fi / previous work

summary: self-indulgent fluffy prinxiety, very domestic, some shrek references, y'all know the drill

cw: mild swearing, slight innuendo/suggestive dialogue

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Virgil asked from where he laid against his boyfriend’s chest. Roman’s hand stilled as he played with Virgil’s hair.

“Hmm?” He hummed, continuing to rock them with one leg hanging out of their shared hammock. “‘Course you can.”

Virgil made something akin to a purr as he laid in the sun, his hoodie discarded for once.

“When you first said you loved me…was it scary?”

Roman’s brow furrowed at the question, leaning back to try and see the other man’s face.

“Scary? I…I guess I don’t know. I think, in the moment, it just felt right,” he spoke with a soft smile, pausing only to plant a kiss on the other man’s forehead. “But ever since I realized it…every time I thought about saying it, I was terrified.”

When Virgil only shifted, tightening his grip around Roman’s waist, the latter continued.

“I was so worried you’d be freaked out and think I was moving too fast and the last thing I ever wanted was to scare you off, but I…” he trailed off, letting out an amused chuckle. “I was only ever afraid of losing you. Loving you has never scared me.”

Virgil hummed, leaning up to steal a lazy kiss from the corner of Roman’s lips.

“But what about all those stupid stories you like?” He smirked, folding his arms over Roman’s chest as he rested his chin on them. “Quite a bit of pressure there, Princey.”

Roman chuckled, twirling a particular strand of hair around his finger.

“Ahh yes, those stupid fairytales that you make me read to you all the time,” he teased, earning a playful slap on his shoulder. “I’ll have you know, I have more than enough understanding of when dramatic proclamations of my undying love are unwanted.”

Virgil just exhaled a short chuckle, reaching to pull Roman’s hand out of his hair and over to hold it against his cheek, first pressing a kiss into the palm.

“Isn’t that why it’s such a big deal though?” He mused, his eyes half-focused on the beach around them. “Like, isn’t the whole point of falling in love so that something changes once you say it? And…and nothing changed when we said it.”

Roman stiffed a little bit from under him. “Did you…want something to change?”

No. No, of course he didn’t. That was the best part about it.

He told Roman as such.

“I guess I just…always thought something would change, even if we didn’t really want it to,” he explained, closing his eyes as Roman started playing with his hair again. “But I like how we are. How we’ve always been.”

“How we’ve always been? I don’t know about you, stormcloud, but I think things have definitely changed for the better.”

Virgil huffed with a small smile.

“Alright, fine,” he said, his cheeks hot. “I’m glad we changed even if it was just a little.”

Roman chuckled, his chest vibrating comfortingly against Virgil’s head.

“Yeah, I think I like you a little bit more these days, sunshine.”

Virgil scoffed, jabbing Roman’s side with his elbow.

“Thanks, babe," he spoke teasingly. “What glowing praise."

Roman only wrapped both arms around him and squeezed tight, one hand cradling the back of his head and the other holding him by the waist.

"My darling dark and stormy knight,” Roman cooed dramatically, peppering kisses all over his face until the other started laughing. "The angel from my nightmares, oh how I adore you with everything I am."

Virgil smiled, his gaze soft and fond as he looked up at the man he loved.

"Mhm, that's more like it," he smirked, stealing a kiss. "I love you, dork."

Roman bent down to lean their foreheads together.

“What's with all the introspection, my love?"

"Good word, babe."

“Shut up, I'm just worried about you," Roman grumbled, tucking Virgil's head back under his chin.

"You're worried about me? Because I’m talking about being in love with you?" Virgil asked, taking one of Roman's hands to fiddle with his fingers.

"Well, you just don't...talk about it. We both don’t,” Roman explained, his voice vibrating through his chest. "And I'm glad we are, it's just...not what we do."

Virgil smiled, sighing contentedly.

"Nothing's wrong, I promise,” he assured him. "I guess I've just been thinking a lot lately."

"Oh wow, congrats," Roman teased with sarcastic claps.

“Shut up, oh my god,” Virgil complained, not even trying to hide his laughter. "I'm trying to be serious here."

"Alright, alright, I concede," Roman smiled, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

"I just kind of realized that I've been feeling different lately,” he started, causing Roman to immediately stiffen and lean back to see Virgil's face. Virgil smirked, rolling his eyes fondly. “I just told you nothing's wrong, chill babe."

"You telling me to chill out is quite ironic, methinks," Roman teased, relaxing back into the hammock. “It's not my fault you're rubbing off on me, Frank Fear-o.”

Virgil snorted a laugh at the nickname before he continued.

"Ever since we said it, I've just felt... better," he spoke, a soft smile on his face. "I don't even know how to explain it, it's just...better. I get headaches less, when I get anxious, it turns into panic attacks like half as much."

He paused as Roman's lips met his temple.

"And I think the strangest thing is," he spoke, propping himself up on his forearm to look down at his boyfriend

below him. “When you told me you loved me, I didn't doubt it for a second."

Roman gave a short, watery chuckle; his eyes tearing up just a little.

"Even just a year ago, I wouldn't've believed anybody who said that to me but you," he paused, reaching to squish Roman's cheeks with one hand until they both laughed. "I knew you'd never lie to me, but more than anything, I felt it."

He leaned in, intending to only steal a quick kiss before it swiftly escalated.

“Who knew you were such a sap?" Roman teased, breathing heavily as they eventually broke apart.

“Says you, Romeo."

“Oh, I wear that badge with pride, darling," he beamed. "According to Thomas' Twitter, I'm his 'simp' side."

Virgil snorted, laying back down as he leaned into Roman's shoulder.

"Okay, they're definitely right about that one,” he mumbled, ruffling the other’s curly hair affectionately. “I’ve got you wrapped around my finger and you can’t even deny it.”

Roman grabbed one of said fingers and brought it to his lips, planting a dramatic, drawn-out kiss with the most exaggerated noise he could.

“But of course!” He bellowed, earning a fond eye roll from his boyfriend. “For it is my only duty to bestow upon you all of the love one can possibly muster.”

Virgil quirked an eyebrow.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve got a few other duties, babe,” he challenged with a smirk. “Like maybe the concept pitch for the next scripted video that you haven’t done, or the notes for the editors, or the fact that Thomas hasn’t even picked up his ukulele since last year, or—“

“Okay! Okay, fine, I can’t devote my whole life to smothering you forever,” he agreed exasperatedly. “But if I could, I would.”

Virgil chuckled, folding his arms over Roman’s chest and resting his chin on top.

“Hmm, yeah I think I’d hate that.”

Roman gave an almost comical pout, pulling out the puppy dog eyes.

“Nope, absolutely not, you’re not getting me with that shit,” Virgil asserted, trying to maintain a firm tone as he came dangerously close to breaking into a smile. “Smother me twenty-four seven and I’ll dump you on the spot.”

Roman pulled a disbelieving face.

“You really think I’m buying that?” He smirked. “That you’d dump me for spoiling you absolutely rotten with my sweetness.”

He knew full well what he was doing.

“I need my space, princess,” he spoke, putting on a suave tone that he knew he wasn’t pulling off by the giggles that came from his boyfriend. “I gotta’ keep up the aesthetic.”

Roman brought Virgil’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“Alright, alright, I respect the commitment,” he spoke, punctuated by kisses from Virgil’s hand up to his shoulder. “It’s so tragic that Mr. Misery Business would rather brood than swoon.”

“Who says I can’t have both?” He grinned. “I’m multi-faceted these days, babe. I have layers.”

Roman snorted a laugh, ducking his head right by Virgil’s ear.

“Layers,” he spoke with a heavy Scottish accent, his hands squeezing Virgil’s sides. “Onions have layers. Ogres have layers. We both have layers.”

“Oh my god,” Virgil cackled with laughter. “I hate it. I hate you, never speak to me again.”

Roman smirked, unfazed.

“But Virgil, that’s what friends do, they forgive each other.”

“One more word and you’re not getting any kisses for the rest of the week.”

“It’s already Friday.”

“Well, I don’t exactly want to punish myself in the process.”

Roman flushed a little at the rare admittance of affection.

“You think you couldn’t go a full week without any kisses?”

“I mean,” Virgil spoke, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t exactly want to find out.”

He answered with a chaste kiss to the other man’s temple. “I guess the world may never know.”

“If Logan were here right now, he’d probably try to get us to find out.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I never listen to the ol’ poindexter anyways,” Roman grinned, quirking an eyebrow.

“Ahh, yes, my favorite thing about you,” Virgil teased with a sly smirk. “How you’d rather be eternally petty than have an ounce of rational thought in that pretty little head of yours.”

Roman gave an offended scoff.

“You know what, I’m just going to ignore everything you just said in favor of the fact that you called me pretty,” he defended with a humph.

“Oh, you like that?” Virgil continued teasing. “As if you don’t already know you're pretty.”

Roman feigned his innocence.

“I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest idea, darling. Perhaps you’ll have to enlighten me on what you find so appealing,” he drawled, his voice syrupy sweet in a way that would’ve made Virgil weak in the knees if they weren’t currently lying on top of each other. “My cute button nose? Thick, wavy locks? Maybe my taut, round buttocks?”

Virgil barked out a laugh, rolling his eyes with fond exasperation.

“Pull another Shrek quote out of that ass and I’ll see to it that you won’t be able to sit for a week—a full week.”

Roman froze, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Is…is that a threat or a promise?”

Virgil just groaned, shoving him until the hammock teetered and he panicked, clinging back onto the other man. “You’ve been spending too much time with your brother.”

“You may be right, but this is certainly more fun, I must admit,” he sighed happily.

“Just shut up and take a nap, princess.”

“As you wish, my love.”

#prinxiety #my work #my writing #ts prinxiety #ts roman #ts virgil #sanders sides #tss #tss virgil #tss roman #sanders side fic #roman sanders #virgil sanders

[watevermelon]

Patience is a Virtue | Shinsuke Kita x Reader

✧ Summary: You lost track of the days that you were in love with Kita. He was so much more than just the team mom that many outsiders dubbed him as. He was the wielder of cold-logic and held the bluntest of words at times, but he showed his own special brand of care for each member of the team. What you hadn’t expected was for him to especially care about you.  ➳ Warnings: Language because twins lmao ➳ Tags: Childhood friends to lovers; mostly fluff and humor; Atsumu being a little shit; friends trying to be match-makers; mild jealousy on Kita’s part; introspection and some character development

✧  Masterlist

---xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx---

As the manager of the Inarizaki volleyball club, you were no stranger to the antics of your generally loud team. And while this was usually elicited by the twins, with most of the team ahem especially Suna being no help (since many would rather film then break-up the fight), you were almost a pro at keeping them calm to the public eye.

You grew up alongside most of the members of the team, a strange connection between all of the players. From advanced classes in junior high to being literal neighbors to some of them, you were long-term classmates with many of the members - including the captain himself.

Kita was much more than the doting team mom than people gave him credit for. Yes, he was often the face of the team, the voice of reason that handled the interviews and other press coverage, but this all came from a place of stone-cold reason. He had strict routines and never cared about doing things without practical rationale. Kita had a mature way of thinking, often compartmentalizing both people and emotions, to the point that it made people his own age not relate to him.

Even the quiet Suna, the analytical little shit who loved to poke fun at said captain, had honestly admitted that he thought Kita to be on the robot-side of the emotional spectrum. 

And, despite all this, Kita was the long-term object of your affections.

It was all the little things that made your crush on him grow. From his proper speech, the blunt words no matter to whom he was speaking to, or his unusual brand of care he extended toward his teammates, Kita was the foundation of Inarizaki that you fell for. And when he was named captain of the volleyball team? You almost cried alongside him, reveling in the rare fit of pure happiness that he was gracing your eyes with.

You remembered the last time you walked home together, for once not being called away on separate duties as captain and leading manager. He treated you to ice-cream and walked along you side-by-side.

“Mint chocolate-chip with two cherries.” He told the street-cart vendor confidently, knowing your favorite flavors by heart at this point.

You ordered for him in kind, receiving the treat from the vendor as Kita paid for both of your orders. Anyone else would be contesting it, but you knew that Kita would not take no for an answer. He did stuff like this all the time with you, you were better off not fighting it. This was not the hill you wanted to die on.

But you were surprised when Kita licked at your ice cream, smiling as he tasted it and maintaining your gaze head-on. The shock on your face must have been evident since the smirk on his widened. You reached for the cone in his hand, only for him to lightly slap it away.

“Should I be asking with a pretty please or something?” You asked with a playful pout.

“No.” Kita replied, before lowering it to your eye-level.

Did he want you to lick it? While he was holding it????

Wordlessly, you followed his silent command and felt the minty taste of your afternoon snack on your tongue. Kita watched the action, eyes following your tongue as he shot you a friendly smile. He pulled away before you could get that much more, before licking your ice cream again.

Was that an indirect kiss???

“My, you two make quite the couple.” The vendor commented, clasping her hands together as she watched your interaction.

“We’re not dating.” Kita answered, squashing any hope you had from that interaction.

He was just?? So confusing??

You had so many little moments like this over the years. So many that had you often questioning deep into the night what truly was your relationship with the blunt captain of Inarizaki. You fell for him so many years ago, it made you wonder when was the last time you really thought of him as just a friend. Did he truly not know about your feelings?

But Kita was smart and on just as many occasions, you wondered if he knew the truth but simply did nothing about them. If he could read the twins with little effort, there was no doubt he understood your feelings long-ago, but decided not to act.

At least, that was your reason behind not openly admitting it to him:

That Kita knew you had a crush on him. And since he did not feel the same, it was better off if he did not address them.

And so you never brought it up, stewing in silence for years. 

Eight years was a long time to be in love alone.

“You should just give up on him.” Jisoo, your fellow Inarizaki manager commented one day. She was in the same class as the twins, a year your junior.

The both of you were lounging outside in the courtyard for lunch, a humidly hot day that made the two of you especially lazy this particular school-day. Only a few more hours more and you would be free of classes, liberated of any schoolwork and finally enjoying the weekend.

You were mindlessly scrolling through your phone, looking at the different posts on social media from your various friends. Atsumu had posted of his serve practice the day before, his comment section flooded with various hearts by his fan-club of all things. Osamu’s private Instabook was of food while Aran’s had posted one of the day’s blue skies.

“Why would I do that?” You asked with a sigh, already used to her trying to guide you away from him. You understood why, it was hardly a smart decision to hold onto your feelings, not that you really cared.

“Aren’t you tired of it by now?”

But was that a good enough reason at this point? You were a third-year and about to graduate. If there was one thing that was constant throughout your entire life in the farming prefecture you called a home, it was that you had feelings for the captain.

The sky was blue. Summer was hot. You liked Kita.

It was that simple sometimes. And while there were moments that hurt your heart, it was not like you had any head-space to even try to stop.

“Maybe.” You answered candidly, “Honestly, I wouldn’t even know how to. But I don’t want to either.”

“I worry about you, senpai.”

“What can I say?” You tried to joke, even with your sad smile. “Kita has my heart on lock-down.”

“We’re all going to the twins’ party this weekend, why don’t you try talking to some of the guys there?”

“Not this again.” You complained as you put your phone down on the table.

“Come on!” Jisoo pushed, “I’m sure there’ll be someone there that peaks your interest.”

You raised a brow in response, doubt evident on your face.

She teased, “It could also be on a purely physical level.”

Laughing at her statement, you said. “Like that’s any better.”

“A little smooches here and there never hurt anyone.”

“Now I’m worrying about you.”

She giggled, before continuing. “Just think about it. First guy tonight who hits on you, give him a chance.”

While you would have dismissed the thought immediately, there was something rather playful happening in the pit of your stomach. As if, for once in a long-time, you wanted to feel the puppy love of just casually flirting. Of grinning and laughing along with someone's advances and actually enjoying one these parties; rather than just sitting on the couch playing Mario Kart waiting for Kita to hopefully show.

“I don’t know, maybe.”

She sighed loudly, happy to have cracked you a little. Jisoo continued with a teasing grin on her face. “Oh right, I forgot. You’re a masochist.”

“I could’ve told ya that.” Another voice broke out, the familiar setter of two-tone hair taking the seat next to you. He picked at one of your french-fries, eating it with no preamble as Suna took the seat diagonal from you, next to Jisoo at the picnic table outside. 

For someone who spoke a lot of game about not being caught up with the twins, Suna tended to hang around Atsumu quite a bit.

“I am not a masochist.” You defended from Atsumu’s words, earning an eye-roll from the other female manager.

“Why else would you agree to manage a team with the twins?” Suna quipped before taking out his phone, probably scrolling through social media as well. Atsumu shrugged in agreement, a smirk on his face.

“Also, tell that to your love life.” Jisoo countered, playfully moving her lunch out of Atsumu’s reach before the setter could commandeer some of hers.

You quietly pushed the rest of your fries in his direction, appetite long gone on this overly humid day. Doing this sort of thing was actually quite natural with the twin, sharing food and hugs were a normal thing with your friend.

“It’s not that bad.” You argued.

“Wait, have ya ever dated before?” Atsumu asked.

“Have you?” You countered back, the setter was infamous for his many… romantic encounters. But the young man had yet to ever put a serious label on any of those instances, at least not to your knowledge.

He rolled his eyes in response, turning to Jisoo instead to continue.

“Come on senpai, not even a smooch?” She pushed.

You felt your face flush at having been called out, “Well....”

Atsumu turned his body toward you in his seat, his insufferably confident smirk back on, “I could help ya with that.”

You pushed away at his shoulder, “You say it like it’s a problem.”

“Ya savin’ it till ya get married or somethin’?” He asked, genuinely curious. Even Suna turned to you, looking up from his phone in interest.

You turned to Jisoo, the conversation taking a dangerous turn. If you said yes, their curiosity would definitely be spiked. And it was not like you could lie to them and say it was some random person in your class - you knew these boys for years, but they also knew you in kind. 

Yes or no?

The other manager did not even try to bail you out and your silence was already tantamount to an answer.

“Aww. How cute of ya, (L/N).” Atsumu chuckled, reaching to pat your head. You slapped it away before he got too close. For someone younger than you, he was quite the brat. Years of being friends long stripped away any formalities apparently.

“Looks like our heart-breaker manager is actually very sentimental.” Suna commented, a brow raised in your direction.

“Heart-breaker?” You questioned in genuine confusion.

“Come on, (L/N)-san.” Jisoo answered this time, “She’s had her heart set for so long, she hasn’t even seen the other boys she’s curved.”

“How is that possible when no one’s confessed to me?”

Jisoo laughed while Atsumu absently tapped his finger on the table, “Even I know that ain’t true, (L/N).”

“Whatever.” There was no reasoning with your underclassmen when they were this dead-set. No one had confessed to you before, right? At least none to your memory, they were just being instigators as usual?

“That doesn’t answer the question why ya sittin’ here single.” Atsumu stated.

“He obviously has feelings for you, but she’s too much of a wuss to confess.” Jisoo stated it plainly for you, then turned to look at Atsumu with an expectant face. “So it’s either because he hasn’t noticed, which I doubt, or he’s not looking for commitment.”

“Ah. And it’s someone we’ve known for years, huh?” Suna deduced, words come out slowly.

You straightened your back in surprise and shot warning looks toward both boys. This was getting too close, they were starting to put together pieces of a puzzle you hadn’t even willingly handed to them. And knowing these little shits, they were not going to let this go until they found out.

Atsumu inclined his head for you to continue while Suna’s eyes never left your own. Suna was smart all the time, but with being associated with the twins constantly, it was easy to forget that fact. And since the trio acted like idiots so often, you tended to forgo how truly analytical even the Atsumu was. 

This was not good - so not good. It probably would not take them long to deduce the person at this rate.

“I swear to the highest volleyball gods out there,” You spit out as your turned to the other manager, “I will fucking smite you off this planet if you say another word.”

Jisoo burst out laughing immediately, almost choking on her lunch as Atsumu grinned at your warning, the exact opposite response you wanted.

“Strong words ya got there.” He commented, body still angled toward yours in interest. “Looks like we hittin’ a lil too close to home?”

“Don’t even try it.” You responded back, turning away from his inquisitive eyes and back to your phone.

Needless to say, they didn’t listen.

Suna backed up in his seat, eyes glancing between you and the setter. “No commitment, huh?”

Meanwhile, Atsumu was rapid-firing questions. “Is it a second-year? Third-year? Is he on the volleyball team? Do we know ‘em personally?”

You smiled at his now peaked curiosity, the setter almost looking like a small puppy waiting for a treat. But you refused to answer, no doubt sure that they would tell the captain the moment they found out the truth. You turned to Jisoo, who was smiling away at Atsumu, but otherwise sat thankfully quiet.

Atsumu was firing off specific names now, hoping to get any response from you.

“The bastard’s gotta be on the team.”

“Bastard?” Jisoo laughed at the nickname.

“Shut up, Atsumu.” You countered, attempting to poke harshly at his forehead to stop. But he just grabbed the hand in one of his own, holding it in his lap as he continued to spit out names.

“Is it Aran?”

“Will you stop?”

“‘Samu?”

“I will murder you in cold blood.”

“... Is it me?”

You tried your best to pull your hand away, now realizing his tightening hold on against the skin of your hand. How long had you been sitting there holding hands? You felt a natural rosiness rise to your cheeks, not really because of the recipient, but because you were doing so in public with some guy.

Instead, you poked the setter’s side roughly, earning a deep groan, but freeing your hand in the process. Packing up your belongings, you stepped out of the picnic table and stated, “Lunch is almost over, we should get to class.”

You walked away with a small wave, the boys turning to the now only female occupant of the lunch-table.

“So…”

“Nu-uh.” Jisoo cut off Atsumu, moving to leave the table before she accidentally said anything.

“Throw a man a bone here! Or at least help him bone.” Atsumu murmured that last part under his breath, “Ya don’t even have to verbally confirm it - is it me?”

Jisoo paused as she stood, books in hand already. The look she threw him was mischievous, but otherwise she left in silence.

Unfortunately for you, all you were thinking about during class was that conversation you just had. Kita sat on your right in your next few classes, the mild Ōmimi behind the both of you. The last thing you needed was to linger on their teasing words of smooches and marriage. You couldn’t confess your feelings, imagining anything else?? You could only imagine the bright blush at the simple thought of it.

And apparently, you hadn’t hidden it well.

“Something wrong?”

There were still a couple more minutes until the teacher would return. And so you were sitting in the classroom with Kita alongside you, other students milling around the room. He was so damn good at reading people and you cursed that he was using it against you now.

“Just thinking about some stuff Jisoo said at lunch.” You tried to wave off.

“You’re blushing.” Kita stated bluntly, putting his book down as he spoke to you. 

He was never one to sugar-coat his words.

“Am I?” You put your palms to your cheeks, as if to feel the heat. There was no point in trying to lie to him. “She was teasing me about boys.”

“Oh. Are you dating anyone?” Kita asked.

God, this was awful. 

There was nothing worse than your crush asking about your crush.

“No, not yet.” You shook your head negatively, turning towards the window on your left, at least trying to hide your expression.

“Yet? Are you looking to date soon?”

You wanted to scream.

“Um, not in the near future.” You tried to deflect, “But it could happen!”

“Of course.” He smiled, “I packed extra onigiri for lunch, but I couldn’t find you. I’m not sure if you still want it.”

“Ah, I would love to! If I’m not imposing, then yes.”

Kita shook his head, “I packed it for you.”

“You’re so sweet sometimes.” You said honestly, taking it and munching down.

“You usually either forget your lunch or eat junk.” He stated plainly, making you suddenly blanch at his cold-words. I mean, he wasn’t exactly wrong either. You thought back to the lunch you had today, literally just water and french fries that you ended up giving to Atsumu.

“Ha, well.” You trailed off before settling on, “Thanks for always taking care of me.”

Kita’s small grin widened as he looked you in the eyes, “It’s my pleasure.”

When he said things like that, it easily set your heart aflame. It was so simple, such small interactions that you would have to squint hard to find anything underlying in his words. But you wanted to. You wanted to feel needed and also give to the captain as well.

The blush you had earlier was probably nothing in comparison to how you looked now, you were sure. And, with Kita being the ever smart cookie he was, there was no doubt that he spied your inflamed reaction.

Was that conversation over? Was he expecting a response?

Maybe the volleyball god’s did have mercy on your poor soul, since your teacher walked in then and thankfully brought your conversation to a halt. You tried not to outwardly seem relieved, turning to the front and taking out your notebooks.

Your mind wandered in and out of the lecture. There were moments that your gaze just happened to meander over to the captain to your right. It was one thing to suddenly notice you were staring at him, but another thing entirely to be caught in the action. Kita would usually just smile at you kindly, before nudging his chin toward the front of the room toward the teacher.

Even later during volleyball practice, your eyes would casually dawdle over to where the captain was standing. Whether he was watching the team with careful eyes or participating himself in practicing spikes, your eyes usually just found him.

But today was not the day to let down your guard.

Atsumu and Suna were paying careful attention to you. And now it was no secret where your gaze was pointed to. Suna smirked when he realized, but Atsumu clicked his tongue and mentally filed it away for later. Jisoo once snapped playful fingers in front of your face, grabbing your attention to flip the scoreboard.

When it was finally time to clean, Kita helped you collect the left-over volleyballs and roll the hammock into the proper storage room. You did so carefully, making sure not to accidentally touch his skin lest he back off from the motion. But the kind, neutral expression he shot you went straight to your heart.

“Let’s get the scoreboard next.” He instructed, the both of you moving to opposite sides of the wheeled board.

And you would have, if Atsumu had not thrown a casual arm across the captain’s shoulders.

“Hey, do ya mind helpin’ ‘Samu over there?” He motioned with his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to his twin who was not looking at all.

Slightly suspicious, Kita did as asked anyway and went with the grey-headed twin to mop the floors.

“What was that about?” You asked as Atsumu pushed the scoreboard along with you.

It was only when you entered the storage room alone that he replied, “So Mister No Gaps Kita Shinsuke, huh?”

“What?!” You fought the inward need to slap yourself, high voice and exclamation enough to show that he was right on the money. “You asshole, how do you know that?”

“I didn’t need anyone to tell me that.” He emphasized, gesturing at your eyes with two fingers. “Ya kept starin’ at ‘em the entire practice.”

You huffed frowning, “That obvious, huh?”

“Yea, he probably knows too - especially if Suna and I figured this shit out.”

That didn’t help at all.

“Great.” You leaned against the nearby wall and put a palm to your forehead.

Atsumu crossed his arms, “So why haven’t ya confessed to ‘em yet?”

You scoffed and shot him a flat-expression, “Because he doesn’t like me back?”

“What? He said that to ya?”

“Well, no.” You hesitated, but explained. “I mean, he definitely knows I have feelings. And Shinsuke has never been one to beat around the bush. If he hasn’t addressed it, it’s probably because he doesn’t want to make it awkward…  since he doesn't feel the same.”

“I think you’re a dumbass.” Atsumu stated back, sighing heavily. “Kita don’t think like that and we both know it.”

“Why else would he be waiting it out?” You asked, “This is the same Kita that told us he doesn’t understand how people feel nervous.”

“Jesus, (F/N). He was talkin’ about volleyball.” Atsumu groaned, raking one of his hands through his piss-blonde hair. “Kita’s human too. Maybe he’s not sure how ya would respond for the same reasons.”

“I don’t know if love advice from the school’s resident fuck-boy is a good idea.” You jabbed instead, a playful smile on your face.

Atsumu put a mock-offended hand on his chest, a smirk finding a way on his face before he squashed it down seriously. He took a step toward you until you were less than an arms’ length-apart, “Fine, have it your way. Stew in silence until he finds someone else.”

That struck a silent chord in you.

“Honestly, that was kind of the plan these past few years.” You admitted, turning your head toward the ground. “If he could find his true happiness with someone else, then I would be happy for him.”

Atsumu must have detected your seriousness, since he hesitated to say his next few words. “Don’ be like that. Stop bein’ an idiot - he likes you.”

“Shut up.”

“Come on, (L/N).” Atsumu levelled with you, “Ya standin’ here like ya ain’t the only girl he’s ever withstood.”

“Wow, what a feat.” You muttered as you sighed.

“Fine, if ya don’t believe that. Aren’t ya’ll best friends anyway?” Atsumu asked, “I’m sure he’d do anythin’ to keep you close.”

You hesitated, but agreed. Your relationship, no matter if he reciprocated your feelings or not, you were best friends. But if he didn’t feel the same and you said something? Would there ever be recovering from something like that?

Atsumu drew you out of your thoughts before he lost you further to your over-thinking, “You’re a real catch. Anybody would be lucky to have ya.”

“Oh?” You shot a withered smile at him.

“And I’m not just sayin’ that to put the moves on ya.” Atsumu joked, earning a light punch to his shoulder as you walked past him to leave.

“Yeah, yeah.” You said before turning back towards him, remembering to say. “None of this leaves this room. You hear that?”

“Yes ma’am.” He mock-saluted, a second later a loud ahem ringing through the room.

You tensed up and turned toward the door, seeing a blank-faced Shinsuke standing in the open doorway. Atsumu was always surprised, albeit much less worried than you were. Was your secret finally out?

“Am I interrupting something?” He asked, before you pushed shouted a loud No! and brushed past him back into the gymnasium.

Atsumu tried to casually exit the room as well, before his captain’s voice rang-out again, “Care to explain what that was about?” 

The setter had two options here: either brush it off or fan the flames that he knew for a fact was there. You were the obvious party, openly staring at the captain like your eyes belonged on him. But Atsumu knew that those feelings were not as unrequited as you thought. 

He remembered some club-room talk not that long ago. It was normal for the guys to discuss their preferences, something that Atsumu was rather vocal about on multiple occasions. Aran was just looking for someone he could cook while Ōmimi stated he liked girls who were generally very kind. Osamu preferred someone who was a bit meeker while Atsumu loved ‘em vocal, even bratty to the point of talking back.

“Of course, you would.” Suna commented as he dressed.

“What the fuck do ya mean by that?” The setter bit out.

“As in the fuckboy thinks he’s a girl tamer.” Suna snarkily replied.

“Well, when a girl has a mouth on her. I want to put it to good use.” Atsumu said with a smirk, earning a loose towel to the head, one that Osamu had just launched from across the room. Aran sighed and grabbed it before Atsumu could whip it back. Kita nodded toward his counterpart in quiet thanks.

Many of the others were still dressing after practice this day, it would be annoying to have to break up another fight between the twins then.

“Can ya be less of an asshole?” The grey-headed twin asked.

“Wha? I’m speakin’ the truth!” Atsumu defended, “Not every girl is like that anyway.”

“And who would the infamous Ratsumu have his eyes on?” Suna asked, genuinely curious but not missing the chance to poke at the setter.

Atsumu frowned, but continued anyway. “No one, right now. But I still got eyes, ya know. Ya can’t tell me our manager ain’t a cutie.”

“She would rather hand you a new asshole than ever date you.” Suna said, to which Akagi laughed.

“Careful, ‘Tsamu.” Osamu playfully warned, “People might think ya like (L/N)-san.”

“What can I say, she’s single and hot as fuck.” Atsumu replied off-handedly. 

It was a plain statement, but you could almost physically feel the temperature change in the club-room. Aran was glancing between the captain while the rest wondered why it was suddenly dead silent.

Osamu wondered if his prayers had been heard and he would soon be an only child.

“I suggest not saying that again.” Kita stated over his shoulder as he buttoned up the rest of his shirt.

That was a clear enough warning to everyone in the room that you were off limits. Suna had remembered this instance as well, in the present day reminding Atsumu after lunch not to push any buttons. It was clear then that Kita had no tolerance to any shit he was going to pull and now the pining was mutual on both your ends. Suna reminded him again and again during class to just let you and Kita sort your feelings naturally.

Pfft.

Was Atsumu going to be a little shit and try to sew some discord?

Hell yes.

“What can I say?” Atsumu feigned being casual, even shrugging as he exited the quiet storage room. “A pretty girl and a young guy enter a closet alone together, you know the rest.”

The glare he felt on his neck could have been enough to snap it with this much pressure. But, Atsumu digressed. He was doing the both of you a favor anyway, pushing you together when you both already had feelings for one another (albeit with some mind games interspersed).

Atsumu almost laughed when Kita grabbed your hand when the two of you walked home together. 

Kita knew what the setter was doing. What buttons he was trying to push, what he was trying to imply with you. The captain knew it all and he was still getting pissed off.

True to everyone’s assumptions, Kita knew about your feelings for him. The extent and duration, that he was not sure of. But he knew that you have thought about him in a romantic light for quite some time. Lingered looks and purposeful touches, on both your ends, was not something he could easily ignore.

What made Kita wonder was why you hadn’t said anything at all?

You were often pretty straight-forward as well. Not exactly in terms of romance, but you when were interested in something you tended to speak your mind. Whether it be a new show, some shounen anime you were following along with, you always shared it with him.

And for that fact he was always grateful.

Many of the others your age tended to be warded off by his way of thinking, branding him too mature or even too cold at times. To think that even the sarcastic Suna had nicknamed him as a robot, it was interesting to see that was how most people saw him.

But you didn’t.

Or at least, you saw passed his cold exterior and were just a freely-spoken with your mind. Kita’s blunt way of speaking had casualties sometimes, but you usually voiced if his blunt speech was too much. There were times that, if you were inadvertently hurt by his words, you would say it out-loud.

He remembered the last time this happened, not even a month ago. The two of you were hanging out under the shade of a tree, about to go out to a team hangout when you exited your back porch wearing a blue sundress. It flirted high above your knees and showed off the creamy legs of yours that he loved to trail his eyes over.

You looked breath-taking.

And so he said:

“Is there an occasion I’m missing today? I thought we were just going out with the team.”

The disappointed look on your face was immediate and it did not take a genius to figure those were the wrong words to say. But what he was not sure is where it went wrong. Logically, it made sense. You were going to walk at least two miles to the train and then from there a mile to the arcade. And most of that time you would all be standing. Would you even be comfortable doing all this walking in sandals?

But you didn’t get offended or draw away from him from these smaller misunderstandings.

You were always ready to knock some sense into him if need be.

“Not even a compliment on how I look? How mean.” You said with a frown, “I tried a bit more because I don’t usually get the chance to.”

“I know, but I want you to be comfortable considering the walks today.” Kita lightly grabbed your elbow as he stepped closer, “Besides, you always look beautiful no matter what you’re wearing.”

Your blush was palpable, Kita was almost sure he could fry an egg on your forehead, if the redness was any indication of temperature. 

“Let’s save this dress for another occasion. Preferably where only I see these.” He glanced down to indicate your legs, to which you sputtered and allowed him to guide you back inside the house.

And instead, he picked a pair of light-colored shorts and a loose summer-blouse. Kita knew you had a pair of black-and-white sneakers that would go with it anyway. You commented how it was almost scary that Kita knew your wardrobe, but he stated it simply:

I like what you wear. And I think it looks very agreeable on you.

It was simple and he stated it thusly. And from your reaction, it seemed as if it had made your day. From the beaming smile on your face to the new skip in your step, it was clear to him that he had amended the situation properly with your guidance.

But he still had the same issue: Kita thought he was being clear as day.

There was no one else he was spending time with like this. No one else whom Kita was expressing interest in like he was with you. From sharing ice-cream to hangouts alone with just the two of you, he thought his way of flirting with you was obvious? His actions alone should have been clear that he was showing his own interest in you.

And so if Kita was being clear with his feelings, why hadn’t you said anything?

This was not something he could just say and retract, either. The last thing he wanted to do was put your entire friendship on the line just to lose you. What if you actually did not feel the same way? But from your constant blushing and obvious gaze on him, you liked him too? But why hadn’t you said anything? Were you expecting him too?

He almost groaned aloud at this line of thinking.

Nothing had him flustered quite like you. Kita was confident both in school and on the court, a sure faith that no matter where it was. It was not a baseless arrogance, but more like a calm trust that he knew what he was doing was right.

And yet…

When it came to you, that brand of confidence simply withered away. Not always a bad thing, you often caught him off-guard with your own kindness and rarely did you ever truly fight. But there were times that he sorely wished he knew what was going on in that head of yours.

Like why hadn’t you said anything to him regarding this tension?

Or better yet, why the hell were you whispering with Atsumu in the gym closet?

The setter knew all about your being off-limits. Kita made it very clear that day and it seemed even then, the message did not totally receive in the asshole's mind. Or rather, it probably did, Atsumu just decided to ignore it.

And so on your shared walk home after practice, Kita gently grabbed your hand and did not let go. You almost jumped in surprise alongside him. Not that you hadn’t held hands before, but it was usually called for in the context. Navigating one of the twin’s parties, through a crowded group, or just to guide you somewhere.

But never had he held your hand for no reason.

Kita just smiled, hoping this would send a clear enough message to both you and the meddlesome boys behind you.

Meanwhile, Atsumu had to stop himself from cackling aloud. Osamu was ready to question his brother over what the hell was that about, but Suna assured him that it was best not to get involved at this rate. Aran simply sighed, but waved goodbye and goodnight to the rest of the team.

Your smile was a mask to your inward screaming, only to be silenced to a blank void. Your mind was comparable to that picture of spilled milk - the only thing inside as if the very act was an enigma. You had no idea what to say, what to do in this situation as you both continued to walk along.

For someone who was an athlete, the skin of his hand was surprisingly soft as it encased your own. You felt your hand unconsciously squeeze his and feared that the act would have him pulling away, as if waking him up from his act. But Kita squeezed back, a fond expression reflected back at you.

The two of you walked home together whenever you had the chance, unless called for by other duties. So this was usually normal for the two of you. Conversation was just easy, ranging from school or recent events, and even if one-sided you had no issues with simply speaking to the captain. And yet today…

Kita and you were both completely silent.

You couldn’t even tell if something else was on his mind, a neutral look on his face as he looked ahead. Was this action to show that he was reciprocating your feelings? You hated being unsure like this, but there was too much vulnerability to simply lay-out what you wanted to say.

Even on the train, Kita sat next to you quietly but still held your hand over his knee. You watched the action, before trying to level your breathing as to not freak out. But Kita kept going about his day, even taking out his phone to check a few texts with the other hand.

It was meant to show this was entirely on purpose.

Only when your house popped into view during something conspiratory popped into your mind - Did one of the boys tell him?

You felt the small seed of hope grow further. Was it just a coincidence that the day Suna and Atsumu found out about your secret was the same day, after literal years, that Kita found out as well? And that maybe if he knew now, was he reciprocating in some way?

You moved to glance at him in the corner of your eye, but he was already looking at you.

The both of you stopped short of the gate, but you hesitated for a second to say anything. There was so much on your mind and stewing in silence was the exact opposite thing you wanted to do. Before you could even think of words to say, your captain made the first move again.

Kita tenderly reached for your other hand, holding both in his much larger ones. He brought them up together and shot you a gentle smile, “(F/N), your hands are so soft.”

It came out like word vomit.

“I like you, Kita!”

SHIT.

Maybe you read him wrong?? If he was going to make a move, why was he looking at you so surprised??

“And here I was, wanting to say something first.” Kita said as he chuckled lightly, his hands gliding the rest of the way up your arms. “I like you, too.”

You didn’t even have time to overthink, Kita wasting no time and pulling you towards him. Quickly raising your hands to his chest, you steadied yourself against him as he held you in the close embrace. His smile was almost blinding - not from the size, but rather the genuine feel behind it.

Your hands slid upwards, folding behind his neck as your faces drew closer together. One of his hands gently carded in your hair, lightly guiding you to him. You closed your eyes in silent anticipation, long awaited joining finally happening with only stars as your audience.

The skin of his lips slotted gently against yours and you silently relished the feel of the prolonged peck. You pulled him closer, silently nudging him to go the step further. Kita smiled in response, making you beam right back at him. It was honestly hard to deepen the kiss further, expressions pulled from your shared grins. You were two idiots smiling at one another, foreheads pressed together as you struggled to deepen your impassioned kiss.

“I’ve waited so long to hold you like this.” Kita whispered against your lips, one of his hands resting around your waist.

“Me too.” You replied in a low vice, eyes still closed as you just felt him.

He watched your cute expression, from your rosy appearance to the way you deliciously leaned your body into him. Kita felt his eyes shutter closed, savoring the feeling of you two finally joined. You moved together in tandem, softly at first, and then with a swift intensity that made you cling to him even further - as if Kita was the only solid thing in this suddenly swaying world.

The world was constantly moving, either too fast or too slow or too much at times. Until finally, in Kita’s arms, it finally felt right.

“I’ve liked you for a really long time.” You confessed.

“I know.” Kita responded simply, “Me too.”

You almost wanted to laugh, but withheld it from possibly breaking the atmosphere. “Is it really that simple?”

“Yes.” Kita said as he smiled, moving to place a light kiss on your forehead. “I was honestly… afraid to say anything in fear of your response. But now we are both aware, right?”

You grinned back and stretched on your tippy-toes to kiss his cheek, “Yes.”

“That’s it then.” Kita stated as he leaned his forehead back against yours, “You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

You whispered back, “Sounds like a deal.”

His insistent mouth parted your eager lips, sending wild tremors crawling up your spine, evoking sensations you had never known you were even capable of feeling. And as the swimming giddiness spun you round and round, you steadied yourself to kiss him back just as passionately. With a swipe of his tongue against the crease of your lips, you parted your mouth eagerly.

There was no battle, no insistent fight between your two appendages. There was only Kita, eagerly roaming around your mouth as you sensually rubbed tongues. You openly moaned at the feeling, not even noticing the noise until Kita was smiling in response.

You blushed at the realization, but Kita only complimented the sound. “Make that noise again for me.”

Your smile dropped to a more sultry smirk.

“You’ll have to earn it.”

Kita felt his eyes comically widen before dropping to a half-lid, “Oh?”

“My parents aren’t home…”

“Oh.”

Kita placed a kiss on your forehead just to lean away, one of his hands dropping to grab your own. You hurried along with his pace, suddenly breaking out into a faster walk in the direction of your home.

“Let’s make up for lost time, shall we?”

BONUS:

“No way.” Jisoo commented on the sight before her, nudging Atsumu standing next to her. The twin’s party was ravaging around them, but there was an unlikely and yet very likely couple that had just walked through the door. And while it was normal to see the two of them together, it was the first official time as an exclusive couple.

Walking in was Kita and you, hands clasped together like this was oh so natural.

Akagi greeted the both of you with a smile while Aran waved you guys over to the living, where many of the other team members were playing a game. Kita guided you through the party, joined hands proudly on display for all party goers.

Atsumu held out a hand in Jisoo direction’s, causing her to frown but nonetheless place some lost yen in his open palm.

But seeing you smile and share a kiss openly with the captain, Jisoo didn’t exactly mind losing this bet.

---xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx---

#shinsuke kita #shinsuke x reader #kita x reader #shinsuke kita x reader #shinsuke kita imagine #kita imagine #hq kita #haikyuu kita #kita scenario #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #hq reader #hq x you #kita hcs #kita headcanons #inarizaki #inarizaki x you #atsumu miya #osamu miya #aran ojiro #hq x reader #hq x y/n #shinsuke kita hcs #hq imagines #hq scenarios #hq hcs #hq headcanons #hq reader insert #kita headcannons #haikyuu to the top

[lucemferto]

I feel like the difference between angsty fanfic and an angsty source material is that with fanfic, you can choose when you partake and what type of angst you're getting into due to things like tags and stuff. And while you choose to partake in media as well, the usual media doesn't have anywhere near the extensive warnings fanfic do. Especially in DSMP where it started kind of irreverent and funny, got more serious but still had light at the end of the tunnel, and is now just an angst no comfort fest, seeing what depths the story sinks too is harder to deal with than willingly reading a very angsty fanfic or writing one for your own catharsis. Because it's safe. You know what you're getting into. It's on your own terms. Vs the ccs playing with your emotions like cackling puppet masters behind the scenes.

Some people like that stuff. I for one, don't and am trying to get back into some other, less angsty series to balance out the misery, but some people are all for it. I got into DSMP as an escape from quarantine, and it is certainly not an escape anymore. I guess since you do narrative analysis you're a bit more removed from the angst but damn if I could barely watch that last Philza and Fundy stream.

How dare you derive such a thoughtful ask from my bad shitpost! Now you have made me look like a damned, insensitive fool!

In all seriousness though, this a good thing to bring up. Fandoms are not a monolith, of course, and everyone has different thresholds and preferences when it comes to content, narrative, tone, etc.

Personally - without trying to step on anyone’s toes - I think people tend to overstate how angsty everything is. I mean, things have gone dark; but we’re also in the middle of the story - things tend to get dark around here. The more dire Act II the more exciting it is to see how the heroes will prevail in Act III. Season 2 handled that pretty fine with Dream’s ultimate defeat, I’d say.

And still, we have goofy stuff like the Beeduo marriage, Tommy still sprinkles some comedy inbetween the more introspective moments, the Eggpire in general were more on the silly side as antagonists (some choice BadBoyHalo and Ponk scenes excluded) and in their most triumphant moment they were foiled.

And that’s disregarding how light and fluffy the beginning of Season 3 was: With the Hotel-arc and Jack and Niki as the ineffectual, cartoony villains. I’m sure once S3 has reached its climax and S4 starts, we’ll get back to that tone.

But, again, it’s very important to be comfortable with the content you consume and I’m not knocking anyone if they think S3 is a bit much for them right now. I can totally see how that would be the case!

#dream smp #dsmpblr #dsmp #dreamsmp #dream smp analysis #dsmp analysis #dream smp discourse #dsmp discourse

[imekitty]

Ghost on the Couch: Danny makes a deal with Maddie to attend eight sessions of therapy.

This is the first (unedited) chapter. Enjoy the preview!

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

Danny stared out the passenger side window and crossed his arms.

“You’ll like this therapist, Danny,” said Maddie as she drove through the rush hour traffic. “Dad and I met with him earlier today.”

Danny kept his body turned from her.

“He definitely knows what he’s doing,” continued Maddie. “You can just tell from talking to him. And he’s also got this full head of fluffy blond hair straight out of the eighties.” She sighed dreamily.

“Yes,” said Danny, still looking out the window. “Because good hair is so important in therapy.”

Maddie was quiet for some time. Danny tightened his folded arms against him.

“Danny, I know you’re unsure about this—”

“I’m not unsure. I definitely don’t want to do this.”

“I know. But I really think this could help you.”

Danny glanced at her with just his eyes before turning to face forward. “I just don’t understand,” he said, looking down at his lap. “Do you...think something’s wrong with me?”

“No, of course not, sweetheart.”

“Then why are you making me do this?”

“I just think you’re… You seem to be struggling. You seem stressed, overwhelmed. Especially since starting high school.”

“And is that abnormal to you? I mean, isn’t high school kind of difficult for everyone?”

“No. I mean, no, it’s not abnormal. It is normal. But… You didn’t use to…”

She frowned. Danny fidgeted, waiting for her to elaborate.

“What? I didn’t use to what?” he finally asked.

“All right, well, I guess I’ll just say it.” Maddie tapped her fingers against the steering wheel. “Your grades are terrible. You always look so tired no matter how early you go to bed or how many after-school naps you take. You’re often in your own world, distracted, distant. You go out a lot with your friends, but Dad and I usually don’t know exactly where you are, and you are always cutting curfew so close—”

“But I do make it back before curfew.”

“Not always. You’ve been late many times.”

“Yeah, like a few minutes, maybe.”

“Half an hour or an hour late is a few minutes to you?”

Danny sank back against his seat.

“Curfew is not a negotiable time, Danny,” said Maddie. “It’s a firm cut-off. And the time we expect you to be home each night is very reasonable.”

Danny shrugged.

“And school is definitely not negotiable. I get calls and reports about you being late or even skipping a class altogether. You’re lucky you haven’t been suspended yet.”

“I’ve been working on that.”

“It’s still not good enough.”

Danny scowled. Would anything he did ever be good enough?

“You’re also a lot more jumpy these days,” Maddie went on. “More nervous, more easily startled. And I thought it was Dash. I hoped it was Dash, that maybe that was why you would skip class sometimes. But even after talking to the principal and his parents about it, you’re still...like this.”

She glanced at him. Danny did not move his own gaze.

“And… You just… You don’t smile as often as you used to.” Maddie exhaled. “And I so miss your smile, sweetheart.”

Danny lowered his head and dug his nails into his arms still folded against him.

“Something is going on with you,” said Maddie softly. “I have no idea what, but you’re going through a hard time. Your teachers have noticed it, too. I get emails from them.” She paused. “Are you going to deny that you’re going through a hard time, Danny?”

Haunting memories, agonizing regret, terrifying thoughts, paralyzing fears, dark introspection, lonely isolation, hitting him all at once.

“No,” muttered Danny. “I can’t deny that.” He straightened. “But I can figure it out on my own. I don’t need therapy.”

“I’ve been letting you try to figure it out on your own for a year and a half now. You’ve only gotten worse, not better.” Maddie nodded definitively. “So we’re going to try something else now.”

He knew that tone. He knew that expression. And he knew her accusations were all sound and that he could never adequately argue against them.

“How often do I have to do this?” he asked in defeat.

“Every Monday.”

“Every Monday?”

“Yes.”

“Are you kidding me? I don’t want to do this every Monday!”

“I’m not giving you a choice, Danny.” Maddie pulled into a lot and parked facing a small two-story building. “I almost decided to have you go twice a week, you know.”

“Oh, well, how thoughtful.”

“Hey, watch that tone.” Maddie unbuckled her seatbelt and gave him a disapproving look.

Danny recoiled slightly. “Sorry,” he mumbled. He unbuckled his own belt. “But what makes you think this will even work?”

“I don’t know if it will work, but I think it’s important to try.”

Danny shook his head and moved to open his door but stopped when he noticed his mother was still in the car. He turned to find her staring at him pensively.

“Look.” Maddie sighed and held up her hands. “How about we just try this until school’s out for the summer? That would be a fair trial.”

“School won’t be out for like two months!”

“Danny, I’m offering you a deal here, okay? Can you just work with me, please?”

Danny thinned his lips and waited for her to continue.

“If by the time school is out you think therapy is not helpful and you really don’t want to continue, then I won’t make you go anymore.”

Danny considered this offer. With an ending in sight, maybe he could do this, especially if it would make her even just a little less disappointed with him.

“Okay,” he said simply. He pulled out his phone and began scrolling through his calendar.

Maddie brightened, then turned serious again. “But you have to give this a fair try. You have to be respectful and cooperate with the therapist. Otherwise the deal is off, and I’ll make you continue.”

“Fine, fine,” muttered Danny, still looking at his phone calendar. “But how about until the week before school ends? I mean, the last week is finals week. I need to study. I don’t want to be overwhelmed that week.”

Maddie narrowed her eyes and scrunched her mouth. “Right. You’re going to study,” she said with a sarcastic edge.

Danny gave her a sheepish look. “Well, I mean… That would make it an even eight sessions.”

Maddie exhaled loudly and opened her door. “Fine, okay. The week before school gets out.” She met Danny outside by the hood of her car. “But then you absolutely have to study that Monday finals week.”

“Sure thing.” Danny placed his phone in his pocket.

“Actually, let me have your phone.” Maddie held out a hand to him.

“What? Why?”

“You won’t be needing it for the next hour. I don’t want you to have any distractions.”

“Oh, come on. I promise I won’t use it.”

“Danny.” Stern. Her hand didn’t waver.

With a loud and irritated sigh, Danny pushed his phone into her hand. She put it in her purse and placed a hand on his back to lead him toward the building.

Danny cocked his head as he read the name above the door. “Wait, is this a pizza restaurant?”

Maddie chortled and gestured to a set of stairs nearby. “The therapy offices are on the second floor.”

Danny stared at the metal steps. Maddie prodded him forward and up. He gave in and allowed her to guide him.

Eight weeks. Eight sessions. Eight hours. He only had to do this eight times.

Manageable.

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

If you want to read more, let me know!

#danny phantom #danny fenton #maddie fenton #imekitty writes #ghost on the couch #fanfiction

[hajimewhore]

Body Swap 👫 (Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader) ➸Rated T, fem!Reader, 2.7k words  ➷Humor, fluff, angst, awkwardness, pining, swearing, my tendency to write introspective, the usual stuff in here  ➷ Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, ✈Part 6, Part 7

“Hajime, let’s walk together without Tooru.”

You hear a voice call out to you the second you step out of the gym. The abrupt call startles you when you register it’s your own voice—it feels a tad cryptic, considering you’re still not used to hearing it unless it’s coming from you. 

Hajime is glancing around, keeping his voice low, clearly wary of any prying ears or casual listeners. 

“Huh? Yeah, alright.”

You jog up to his side, exiting the school grounds with him. A worry creeps in your gut, but you push it aside to hear what he has to say first. No use getting anxious when he hasn’t even said anything yet.

It’s interesting, your strides are much longer than you’re used to, so you have to actively think about matching your pace with Hajime’s currently shorter legs (you hate to call your legs short, but there is an obvious comparison). 

It’s something you never worried about before, considering you were always the one surrounded by long-legged bastards, but it has you thinking that Hajime must’ve always consciously walked in step with you. Even Tooru tended to take long strides (as if he were the main character in an anime, leading the way for the extras). 

You try to quell the metaphorical butterflies that are making themselves at home inside your ribcage, but it’s rapidly replacing the anxiety that was stirring from Hajime’s abrupt request. 

You’re supposed to be serious right now. You can’t be caught up with how sweet and caring Hajime is, even though he doesn’t voice it and generally has an attitude that needs minor adjustment, but you’re constantly reminded every day how his love language is more about acts of service and silent gestures with no intent for acknowledgement and—

“What’s up?”

You say with as much nonchalance as you can muster, it’s best to cut that train of thought off, especially when said train is being directed by Iwaizumi Hajime—not only filling your brain but the space directly next to you. 

You can only assume there’s something pressing he wanted to talk about, maybe practice, judging by his sour expression. Not that he doesn’t always have that expression, but lately he’s been more conscious of the faces he makes in your body. There must be something gnawing at him to let that slip. 

But if you’re being completely honest, you’d rather not think about practice after the shit show of a performance you had earlier. 

“Something…” he pauses, not quite sure how to phrase it, “weird, happened. And I really don’t want to talk about it, but you should know.”

Hajime looks highly agitated, and very uncomfortable. He’s refusing to meet you in the eye, not particularly focused on anything but the air to his right. He’s struggling to find a way to busy his hands, crossed over his chest—nope not that again– shoving them in his track pants pockets, before deciding to whole up in his jacket pockets.

You think about what could possibly make him that level of awkward, but only one thing comes to mind,

“You didn’t start your period, did you?”

“WHA- WHAT? NO, no, fuck,”

Hajime’s eyes blow wide when you unintentionally remind him about the existence of said bodily function. Is that something he’s going to have to worry about? He needs out of this body, stat.

“Good, cause I just ended, so if you started that would’ve been a little worrying.”

You can’t help but laugh at his reaction, and he grimaces, red hue dusting his cheeks, he’s clearly perturbed by the information and realization that was just forced upon him. 

“Good to know. Hopefully we’ll swap before the next... one...”

You roll your eyes, but can’t exactly blame him for his discomfort. As much as you’d like a man to physically endure and comprehend the plight of women, you also hope you’ll be able to switch soon. 

Besides, that's something best cursed upon someone bad mannered, like Tooru. 

It does succeed in reminding you that you and Hajime should put your nose to the grind, if it wasn’t urgent before it’s imperative now that you figure out ways that could possibly switch you back. 

Hajime clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, snapping you back to his current dilemma, 

“Someone asked you out.”

You blink at the information, that’s what he wanted to talk about? You’ll certainly take that over talking about your shit show of a practice tonight. 

“Whaaaat? Again? Jeeeez, I guess I’m just popular today.”

You stick your tongue out with a giggle, sounding extremely misplaced with his voice. 

Surprisingly, he doesn’t reprimand you for it, and it makes you tick a brow in curiosity. 

“...so uh, did you shoot ‘em down? Finally understanding some of the struggles that women go through, huh?”

You attempt to laugh off the unpleasant aura that’s starting to hang thick in the air.

“Not exactly. I said I’d text him, I wasn’t sure what your answer would be.”

At that, you freeze, turning back to stare at him in shock. 

“What? You actually considered my feelings instead of shoving a boy out of my life?”

You halt your steps to turn and grip Hajime by the shoulders, faux tears threatening to spring up and burst any minute. You gaze at him with all of the awe of a proud mother seeing her child matured and all grown up. 

“Don’t say it like that! And knock that look off my face, before I do it myself,” he sounds as gruff as he can with a feminine tone, “and of course I care about your feelings! The men that like you are just shit.”

He turns his nose up derisively.

Hajime always figured that was the case, at least, that no man was good enough for his best friend, and the ones that liked you wouldn’t know what to do with you. All that ambition, attitude, spark, with a tendency for being too kind and too caring. What could a high school boy who dicks around in the back of the classroom ever put forward in a relationship with you?

But it seems he was a bit misconstrued. While he’s positive he marked those boys right, there may have been a little jealousy at play he was never made aware of until recent events (in other words, the Matsukawa Incident–he’ll refer to said event as such now). 

Hajime unintentionally acted with his own self interest, driving away any boy that made eyes at you, and hid behind his self-proclaimed ‘protective best friend’ title, told himself it was fine, because Oikawa was doing the same—they both knew what was best for their friend. 

As if you couldn’t decide for yourself. 

Hajime clenches jaw, he should’ve known something was off with him the moment he started going along with Oikawa’s antics. 

He doesn’t feel particularly bad or regretful about driving away those glaringly transparent guys, but he does feel a pang of guilt for having done it without your say in the matter.

“Well, thanks, I guess. But who are you talking about anyways, I’m dying to know who’s won Hajime’s stamp of approval.”

You look at him with curiosity brimming from tip to toe, and a deep frown tugs at the corners of his lips, the dread and anxiety he felt before coming back full force. Now that he’s placed the feelings he has for you, it’s demoralizing to see you interested in other men.

“It was Matsukawa,”

Now Matsukawa was different. 

Hajime knew him personally, and considered him a close friend. They often spent free time together, had lunch together. They of course played volleyball together, and judging from that alone Hajime could tell that Matsukawa was a man with talent, passion, and drive. He was good natured, and Hajime is positive he’d treat you with the respect you deserved.

“He was the one that asked you out.”

Your eyes widen at the information, and Hajime feels his shoulders tense. Is that excitement? What will you have to say about that? 

Well, if you like Matsukawa, Hajime will just have to deal with it. 

He easily turned away other boys and suitors, but the fact that it’s Matsukawa changes everything, it’s thrown a fat wrench in his love life (if he can even call your relationship that, he’s starkly aware you’ve always been ‘just friends’, and the Matsukawa Incident isn’t exactly helping any).

Hajime knows Matsukawa can make you happy, there’s no reason to stick his nose into that. 

When you’re out of this body swap situation, Hajime will just have to support you from the sidelines. But even then, as your best friend, he has to be with you every step of the way. 

Your solo time with Hajime will practically become non-existent if you get yourself a boyfriend. No more movie nights with the two of you, passed out on the couch before the halfway point, no more casual dinner dates, no more coming to each other’s houses at ungodly hours because the other person is only seconds away. 

Hajime guesses he could still have all those things, but with the addition of Matsukawa–that thought sits bitter in his mind. And Hajime loves his friend more dearly than he cares to admit, and loves you more than he thought he did, but his heart breaks at the thought of the two of you together. 

“Mattsun?”

His spiraling train of thought is dashed the second you burst out into a boisterous laugh, something Hajime wasn’t expecting. 

“He’s such a flirt. You should’ve just brushed him off!”

Hajime states in his bafflement. Matsukawa, a flirt? He thought that was just in the moment. What are you talking about? You’re talking about the same Matsukawa, right?

“What? I didn’t know if you liked him or not, I couldn’t say no!”

His face heats with a scowl as he attempts to defend himself, Hajime is in disbelief he let that get to him so much.

“Oh no, you didn’t get all awkward did you? Now he’s gonna think I have a crush on him.”

You huff, and Hajime grows more confused by the second. 

“Is that such a bad thing?”

And now he feels the need to defend poor Matsukawa’s honor, though he won’t deny the feeling of relief washing away his anxiety like a massive ocean wake. It’s as if the salt water is mending the dull cracks that started chipping at his heart, your full smile and animated laugh uplifting him.

“Not really, I guess. But he flirts too much, and I always put him in his place! But now that you’ve gone all doe-eyed school girl on him, he’s gonna think his charm or whatever worked.”

You click your tongue, and Hajime bristles, how could he forget about how bad your personality could be? Any time he finds himself in awe over you, it’s always short lived. 

“I did not go ‘school girl’ on him, I was confused the entire time! I didn’t even know he was flirting with me at first!”

He rants, seemingly back to himself, and you bite your laughter at the outburst. 

“I’m sorry you had to experience that, Hajime.”

“One of my best friends and teammates... was flirting with me.”

“Technically, me.”

“I can’t look at him the same way.”

“If you want, I’ll let you go on the date. But when I’m back in my body, I’m cutting that off.”

Hajime sends you a look that sends a chill down your spine, vibrating from the intensity of it. 

“Kidding, Hajime, kidding!”

You put your hands up in defense and Hajime grunts, decidedly not beating your ass, fortunately.

Though, Hajime does feel a swell of happiness at the fact that you don’t seem interested in Matsukawa. 

“I guess I should let you know...” you pause and Hajime hums in acknowledgement, “make sure to turn everyone down for me.”

Hajime blinks at your request, and attempts to not sound so desperate and eager when he speaks, 

“Uh, sure. Everyone? ‘don’t have anyone you like?”

He figures he’s pushing his luck with that one, but he wants to know the answer, even if he’s shooting in the dark. 

“No, not interested in anyone in our classes, or your teammates, for that matter.”

You clarify, and he awkwardly glances away at the pointed comment. 

“Right. I can do that,” he glances to you before continuing, “the same goes for me.”

“You already told me that!”

“You need a reminder. I don’t want a random girlfriend I’m not interested in when I’m back in my body, okay?!”

And the reminder was so good to hear, you’re happy Hajime doesn’t have an interest in anyone, even if that gives you the smallest chance.

“Okayyy, okay!”

You laugh, and he hides the way his lips turn up into a smile.

“Now let’s go to my place, we have to do more research on our situation.”

You walk alongside Hajime, ignoring your buzzing pocket, no doubt Tooru. You can’t exactly have him crashing your research sessions, so you decide to come up with an excuse for later. 

Days in a row you’ve done research with no concise evidence or method of solving your body swap, you’re starting to feel disheartened by the situation, but at least the weekend is starting.

Even if it’s nearly impossible to come up with anything helpful, you’ll be able to research more and not worry about putting up a front at school or with yours and Hajime’s teammates. 

“We don’t even know where to start! This shouldn’t even be possible!”

The research Hajime has also done leads to zero results, of course. And both your frustrations are piled as high as the plushies and extra pillows Hajime threw off your bed.

You flop onto your back, said extra pillows and plushies cushioning your fall. You’re surprised Hajime left some of them on the bed, it seems he had discarded a majority of them. 

You can’t believe it, Mr. Tubbs, the big stuffed cat Tooru gifted you years ago, cast aside, face down on the carpet. 

If you weren’t so frustrated by your research developments (or lack of), you’d be amused that the only plushes with bed privilege were the ones Hajime won for you at fairs, or gifted you in the past. 

“There’s no legitimate research, for obvious reasons, and most of it is just stories or movies.”

Hajime sighs, browsing through tabs on your laptop. 

“Are we just going to have to wait?” You bite your tongue, “Hajime, what if we’re just stuck like this?”

The sharp look Hajime sends you makes you freeze up. 

“Don’t talk like that. We’ll figure something out.”

He says it so resolutely that it makes you believe him, or at least want to believe in him. And you have no shortage of belief in Hajime’s abilities–if he’s confident you’ll get through this, then you will get through this. 

“If you say so, I’ll believe you. Sorry, Hajime.”

He hums at your response, eyeing you carefully as you continue to scroll on your phone through a rabbit’s hole of mysterious threads, and cryptic posts. 

Your phone pings with messages from Tooru, the buzz startling you out of an odd Reddit thread that seemed more like a troll or a work of fiction than anything. 

The message(s) are in all caps, and you swipe them out as they come up rapidly. You’ll have to think of yet another excuse to give him later, but you’re running out of ideas. 

It was suspicious enough as it is that both you and Hajime had a dentist appointment in the same week–Tooru not-so-kindly pointed out that dentist offices were closed after your school’s hours, and it didn’t help that Hajime made the same excuse a day after you.

The both of you were even forced to skip out on your monthly movie night together, and you and Hajime can only claim to be sick for the night so many times.

You don’t intend to, but you wind up forgetting to message Tooru back that night. 

The stress is stacked high, everything feels personally against you, and you’re too overwrought to focus on anything other than yours and Hajime’s body swap, let alone school, and especially volleyball practice. Which, is increasingly making Tooru more insufferable than usual. 

Swiping out of yet another cryptic site, you briefly worry about what viruses that could’ve creeped onto your phone before searching again.  

Mr. Tubbs making an excellent cushion, you roll onto your side as you scroll away.

A/N: I’m excited to say I’ve got the rest of the story mapped out from here, I usually just wing it and have zero follow through lol, but I’m trying my best! 

taglist: @cybergovl @babybellecheese @keijikunn @168-cm-png​ @sexy0android​

Masterlist, Part 7

#hq!! #haikyuu!! #haikyuu reader insert #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime/reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu humor