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namjoonxorg · 5 years

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𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝑭𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓 ･❪ ❁ ❫ ･ 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑾𝒂𝒍𝒐 - 𝑷𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑩𝒆𝒅𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆

“We always believe our first love is our last, and our last love our first.” – George W. Melville

You were doing it again.

It had been a solid week since that incident in the coffee shop with Jimin and Hobi -were you still allowed to call him that?- and you’ve caught yourself wandering back to his almost forgotten contact more times than you care to admit. You never did anything, just sat there, staring at his information, and wondering where the hell it had all went wrong.

Truth be told, Hobi, undoubtedly, was your best friend. You remember the days from high school when you called him the second you got home. You’d talk for hours, leaving your homework entirely unfinished and untouched, but still return the next day with bunches more to say. You remember back when you didn’t even need to pull up his contact, you knew it by heart so just saved time by putting it into the keypad before dialing. You remember the time you had to coax him into doing the blood drive at your school and had to write down his information for him because he was too nervous about the needles to think about what the hell his address was.

You also remember the days you applied to colleges. Hobi immediately applied for the best dance school in the country, while you on the other hand, having no artistic bone in your body, opted for something stable, not too far from home yet still far enough. You really only cared for the simple things and so you were pretty happy to find that you had been accepted. Unfortunately for Hobi, he found out the hard way that those big school don’t exactly give scholarships to freshmen. You remember spending the night at his house that day, using every second of your time reminding how stupid they were to not consider him.

He eventually found a college, he left it unnamed because he was still pretty bummed about the dance school, but you never would have guessed that the art school you transferred to last year was the one he’d told you about. Still, back when he told you it was farther away than you’d hoped, you made a pinky promise to always be best friends. You wouldn’t let yourselves become one of those cliches. And for a while, you believed it. How much good that promise did.

Needles to say, you don’t really do pinky promises anymore.

Presently, you sigh and allow your head to loll over on your pillow.

It was almost two in the morning and you hadn’t been able to get any sleep. Your head, for the thousandth time, was filled with thoughts and memories you’d rather keep tucked away. Seeing Hobi had really fucked up your headspace and you’d been bombarded with ways you could have done things differently, things you could have said before it was too late or simply what would have happened if things had gone better a few days ago.

You shifted again, trying to find a position comfortable enough to allow you sleep, but sadly, it seemed as if it just weren't coming. So, you leaned over to reach your phone and, with high hopes and zero expectations, you sent a text.

You: you up?

You waited with baited breath, hoping that all those times of bonding over your shit sleeping schedules would ring true.

Yoongi: is that even a question?

You exhaled in relief, thanking every god you knew that someone’s insomnia is just as bad as yours.

You: you up for coffee? at the 24/7 place from last time?

Yoongi: pls, im already on my way

Yoongi: need me to pick you up again?

You: no thanks. soomin had a fit last time and im not dealing with that again.

You: i’ll just walk. i’ll be fine dw

You smiled, grateful not for the first time, that you managed to meet Yoongi. So, with lighter steps and with messier hair, you climbed out of your bed and slipped on some shoes before heading out the door. Thankfully the coffee shop was very close to your dorm so you only needed to walk for a short time, but you made sure to keep your pepper spray in hand.

You were opening the door to the coffee shop in no time, the familiar chime of the bell putting a smile on your face. However, it soon turned into a frown of confusion when you spotted another head of hair sitting next to Yoongi’s striking minty green.

As you got closer to their chosen table -near the back, obviously- you immediately recognized the other person as your dweeb of a friend.

“Jungkook, isn’t it past your bedtime?” You teased as you sat down, having already placed your order.

Yoongi laughed, more genuine than most would expect at such an ungodly hour. “That’s exactly what I said.”

The younger scowled, his nose scrunching up in that way it does and you can’t take him seriously. “Shut up, guys.” He scoffs but doesn’t say anything until you come back with your drink. “I’m twenty-one, when will you stop treating me like a child?”

“When you stop acting like one,” Yoongi quips and Jungkook goes to argue, but Yoongi shakes his head, holding up a finger to silence him. “Go ahead and tell her what you were doing when you heard me leaving and decided to tag along.”

Jungkook seems to shrink back, slouching into the booth you sit in and you arch your eyebrow, curious.

“... playing Overwatch.”

You and Yoongi burst out into laughter at this, earning you glares from not only Jungkook but the poor baristas working the night shift. You didn’t stop though, your laughter ringing out and seeming to bounce off the walls in the total emptiness of the cafe. Soon enough, Jungkook wasn’t able to remain pouting and he joined you, laughing at himself with ease. You loved that about your friend, the way he was able to let loose and take jokes.

“My point exactly,” Yoongi replies quietly when your laughter comes to a close. The baristas are still glaring at the three of you, but none of you seem to mind too much.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Jungkook whines, pouting like the child he is. “Jin hyung is obsessed with Mario Kart but no one says anything about that!”

“To his face,” Yoongi drawls with a lazy point of his finger and you fail to hide your snicker behind your hand. “Jin hyung is a child in a man’s body, but at least he knows when to go to sleep.”

You sit silently, sipping carefully on your coffee and watch as Jungkook and Yoongi continue to go at it with an amused smirk on your face.

Jungkook stomps his feet, not doing much to prove his point. “Okay, but what about Namjoon hyung and his stupid Ryan plushies?”

“We let those slide because his IQ makes up for that small ounce of childishness.”

“What about Jimin hyung and-”

“Jungkook you know that no matter what you say, you’re not going to win this argument, right?”

The brunette slouches and crosses his arms, but doesn’t reply back. More than likely because he knows Yoongi is right.

He looks over to you, as if for defense, but finds you hiding your smile behind your cup. He tilts his head, in that way he does when he’s planning something devious, and smirks at you with a lift of a brow.

“Speaking of Jimin hyung,” He starts, leaning across the table to grin at you smugly. “I wonder what he would say about Y/N being out right now with two of his best friends.”

Yoongi frowns for a second before realization dawns on him. Then, like the flick of a switch, he turns to you with an expression that matches Jungkook’s perfectly. “Yeah, I’m wondering that, too.”

That traitor.

You huff, but decide not to buy into their game. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shug, feigning indifference.

“That’s okay, it’s not like you like him or anything,” Yoongi states, taking a slow sip of his drink while sharing a look with Jungkook.

The latter nods, leaning back and draping his arm along the side of the booth. “Yeah, but I guess that’s a good thing. He’s probably out with some girls right now, anyway.”

“What?!” You ask, doing your best to keep your voice down but ultimately failing.

This time it's Yoongi and Jungkook who burst out into laughter as you wait for them to settle down so they can clarify things for you.

“So I guess that proves it, then,” Yoongi laughs and empties his cup.

“Proves what?”

“That you like Jimin hyung,” Jungkook sing-songed, teasing you lightheartedly.

You groaned, feeling like they set this up. “It's not as if it was a secret, anyway.”

“Its okay, Y/N. Hyung and I were just messing with you.” He smiled, one of those impish ‘i know something you don’t’ smiles. “He probably likes you, too.”

With a stifled laugh you throw the straw from your drink across the table at him, provoking laughs from Yoongi for the third time since you got here.

In the end, you left with two very unhappy baristas and full invention of skipping your morning class.

Previous || Next Masterlist || Beginning || Coauthor

#bts #written by the loml #bts social media au #party favor #bts ot7 #bts ot7 au #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

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voxazmoved · 5 years

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Does anyone here still play overwatch bc i started playing it again after about a year and its so nice now

I used to play junkrat a lot (i play lucio more now bc no one wants to heal) and every time i picked him i was told to play tank or just something i had no experience in i mean come on it would be more useful for me to play a character im real good at but bad for team comp than a character i have no idea how to use right (dw i wasnt an ass about it i did always end up switching if it wasnt going well)

Now i havent seen anyone have a go at anyone for their picks. A guy asked me to switch to heal once but he was real nice about it and i was happy to do so. At the end of the match you can endorse your teammates and theres this whole rank thing of how good of a teammate you are. The only guy i’ve seen being negative was when our team was doing badly and he insisted we were gonna lose and everyone just told him to shut up we aint gonna win with that attitude. We lost anyway but even so

I waved at an orisa and she sent me a friend request

I suppose making soldier gay got rid of all the toxic people

#the lore is still questionable and so is blizzard #but overwatch is a good game

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deathtouch · 5 years

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Angela didn’t like to consider herself delicate by any stretch of the word. She was tough when she needed to be and could hold her own among her colleagues at Overwatch. She was fearless in battle, she remained calm and collected in the face of an emergency, and she had the strong stomach necessary for a medic on the front lines. It was just that, well, she kind of was delicate. She couldn’t handle a lot of the impact play that most subs seemed to revel in. She didn’t like being handled roughly. She didn’t want to be choked or have her hair pulled or anything like that. The idea of a crop, paddle, or flogger leaving marks on her skin made her physically recoil. She had tried some of those things, of course. When she was young and lonely and wanted something more for herself than just her career. She had tried a few Doms on for size. She had been willing to explore things like spanking, it just hadn’t exactly gone well. She still had unfortunate memories of safe-wording, fast. The sickly-sweet voice of her ex telling her she could handle more. The poorly masked disappointment when she refused to be hit again. She hated that feeling more than anything, the feeling of being a bad sub. She wasn’t a bad sub, she just hadn’t found the right Dom for her, yet. Some days it was hard for her to believe that there was a right Dom for her. There had to be, right? Someone, somewhere, who would be happy with her the way she was. When she was feeling her most sad and lonely, she sometimes doubted it… but she always tried to remain hopeful. In an effort to lift her spirits, or at least distract herself from her lonely thoughts, she let Jesse McCree take her out drinking from time to time. She didn’t pal around with Blackwatch, much. They had their own medic, an insufferable Dom who looked at Angela like she was prey. When they were both free, she and Jesse liked to spend time with one another, though. They were two of few subs at Overwatch, so they had to stick together. It was there at the bar that she met Fareeha. One minute she was sipping her mixed drink, nodding attentively as Jesse complained about how Commander Reyes was somehow both a massive jerk with a dumb, smug face and the hottest Dom he’d ever seen who Jesse wanted desperately to fuck. The next minute she was being introduced to ‘Fareeha’, who had come over to apparently give Jesse the hard time. “Hey, Ange, this here’s Fareeha Amari,” Jesse said, extracting himself from the headlock she’d playfully put him into instead of saying 'hello’. Angela had been vaguely aware of Fareeha’s existence. She’d heard Ana mention her daughter, and how proud she was of her. She knew Jesse and Ana’s daughter were friends, and that they went out drinking together quite often. Their paths had never actually crossed, though. Not until now. “Hello.” Angela smiled demurely and stuck out her hand to shake. "I’m Angela.“ She took in Fareeha’s appearance, noting her eyes lined in heavy black, a tattoo on her face, and thick defined muscles underneath her warm brown skin. Angela knew that she was a Dom straight away, could feel it radiating off her in waves. She got the usual butterflies that came with wanting to impress a Dom, to catch their attention, to be good for them. She didn’t think that Fareeha would actually be her type, though. Most Doms weren’t. Most Doms wanted a sub they could have some rough fun with, or that they could lay over their lap to spank, or at the very least mark up with a few bruises. Surely someone as big and tough as Fareeha seemed to be would want it hard and rough… Except she took Angela’s hand so gently, kissed her knuckles so sweetly, and smiled at her with all this warmth. Angela didn’t know what to do with herself. She was instantly enamored. She had never fallen for someone quite so fast before. "Nice to meet you,” Fareeha told her. Jesse didn’t have a chance in the world at getting their attention after that. He wisely made himself busy by flirting with someone else a few seats down. Fareeha asked Angela if she could buy her a drink, and Angela tried not to blush or read too much into it. They talked about how they both knew Jesse, and Overwatch, and their respective careers. They talked about how they were both single, and for some reason Fareeha seemed stunned. “Really? A sub a sweet as you? I’m surprised another Dom hasn’t collared you yet.” Angela smiled in a self-conscious sort of way and looked down at her drink. "I’m still trying to find the right Dom for me,” She said, trying to sound more confident that this would happen than she felt. Fareeha moved closer, putting herself even more in Angela’s space. "I bet I could be the Dom for you, if you’d let me.” Angela lasted approximately six more seconds under Fareeha’s lusty gaze. They left the bar in a hasty rush, barely remembering to say good night to Jesse on their way out. They started kissing in the taxi back to Fareeha’s apartment. Their hands were all over each other, grabbing, stroking, touching, desperate to be close. They stumbled through the lobby, drunk on excitement. They kissed even more in the elevator, this time with Fareeha’s arms wrapped around Angela’s waist, holding her, making her feel safe. They made it to Fareeha’s apartment with their clothes on, a true feat considering how badly they both wanted each other. Angela didn’t get a grand tour or anything, but she did get swept off her feet. Literally. As soon as they were inside with the door shut and locked, Fareeha scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom. There was something so undeniably hot about it, her strength and power made Angela’s stomach flutter. As soon as she was set down on the mattress, Angela started tugging her shirt off over her head. Standing at the foot of the bed, Fareeha did the same. She wasn’t wearing a bra underneath. There were more tattoos on her skin, on her ribs and over the curve of her shoulder. Angela had never seen a hotter Dom in her entire life. She wanted so badly, more than anything in the world, just to be the kind of sub this woman would want. It thrilled her to think of Fareeha’s warm praise. She yearned for it, craved it, knew she would do just about anything to get it. “You can hit me, if you want,” Angela offered. She got this terrible twist of anxious fear in her guts after she said it. It was the complete opposite of the fluttering she had been feeling just a few moments ago. Fareeha paused as she was climbing on to the bed, likely to crawl all over Angela and cover her in kisses. “…What?” Angela bit her lip, trying not to worry about the tone in Fareeha’s voice. “Spank me, I mean. Or… pull my hair. Choke me.” She meant for it to come out sounding sexy. Yes, master, please hurt me. The way every sub sounds in porn; desperate for it. Except she sounded scared even to herself and she knew it wasn’t hot at all. Fareeha kneeled up on the mattress, sitting back on her heels. “Do you want me to do that?” She asked, perplexed. Swallowing audibly, Angela tried to force herself to nod. “If you want to, you can.” “Hey, hold on. I asked you a question.” There was hardly any force in her words, more concern than anger, but the serious way in which she spoke got Angela’s heart beating faster. It was kind of hot in its own right. In any other context she would have melted before the dominance Fareeha was displaying. “Do you want me to do those things to you?” Angela hesitated, fully aware of how things would immediately end here and now if she said no. She’d have to awkwardly leave, get a cab back to her place. She’d spend the night going over everything she’d done wrong, feeling lonely and sorry for herself. Then again, this would all be ruined anyway if she ended up in pain she couldn’t handle. The last thing she wanted was a new memory of having to safe-word out sex. She didn’t want to know what Fareeha’s disappointed voice sounded like. She wouldn’t be able to deal with hearing it in her head over and over again whenever she thought of this night. She had to be honest. “…No,” Angela admitted. “Good,” Fareeha surged forward to kiss her. “I don’t want to do any of that either.” Angela blinked in confused surprise. “You don’t?” “I definitely don’t.” Fareeha kissed the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her temple. It felt good. All the excitement and want from earlier came rushing back. It replaced the fear that had begun to seep in, threatening to ruin things. Angela felt suddenly very hopeful, and very turned on. “What do you want to do to me?” She asked. “Kiss you,” Fareeha said, like she wasn’t already planting soft, tender kisses almost anywhere her lips could find. “Kiss every inch of you. Maybe lick you too. See if my tongue makes you squirm. Find out how many times I can make you come with just my mouth.” Angela gasped softly, overcome by the idea. It was so simple and yet it felt exhilarating in ways she couldn’t describe. She couldn’t think of anything she wanted more. She reached out for Fareeha, grabbed hold of her waist and pulling her close. “Please,” She breathed. “Please, I want that too.” “Fuck.” Fareeha dove in to kiss her mouth again and again. “You sound so hot when you beg.” Begging was definitely something she could do. Pain might be off limits, but Angela was well and truly at home when it came to supplication. She liked being on her knees, she liked saying please, she liked being the good sub who earned nice things by being submissive and sweet. It was ingrained in her, in every part of her. True to her word, Fareeha did kiss her. Damn near every inch of her. All her curves and edges. Each freckle and birthmark. Each soft and sensitive part of her. Fareeha’s lips made a path from one end of Angela’s body and back again. She used her tongue, too, just like she said she would. She licked and sucked at Angela’s pink nipples. She licked at the pale flesh of her inner thighs. She licked between Angela’s legs where she was most sensitive of all. It had been a long time since anyone had touched her there, much less used their tongue. Angela came almost immediately. To be very fair she had been aching for it since they started making out in the taxi. All these teasing kisses and sensual licks had just got her even more worked up. An orgasm burst through her as soon as Fareeha’s warm, wet song slid over her clit. It was cliché, but it really was like seeing fireworks. A sudden pop of bright, white hot pleasure that coursed through her entire body. She arched, went stiff, and a moan got caught in her throat. Fareeha seemed fully aware of what had happened, and she kept at it with her mouth until Angela’s shaking and trembling had subsided. When she pulled back, she licked her lips and smiled. “That do it for you, baby?” Baby. A pet name already. Delighted, Angela’s stomach fluttered again. Or maybe that wasn’t butterflies, but a twist of embarrassment because she had come so soon. She hadn’t even lasted more than a few seconds against the sensation of Fareeha’s tongue. Glancing away, trying to hide the blush that had spread across her face, Angela nodded. “I-“ she tried to think of an excuse but couldn’t come up with any good ones. “Yes.” “Hey.” Fareeha slipped a warm palm up Angela’s leg. “Look at me.” Angela didn’t hesitate. Embarrassed as she was, she knew to do as she was told. She brought her attention back to Fareeha who was still relaxing comfortably between Angela’s spread legs, as if she was at home there. “I don’t care how quick you came. I wanted you to, and I’m glad it happened, because now I get to make you come again, and again, and again.” Her words thrilled Angela to the core, made her fight back a shy smile. The sense of security she felt with Fareeha was only growing. It was like she couldn’t do any wrong. All her awkward slip ups were easily accepted. All her insecure uncertainties were quickly and readily assuaged. “No more worrying. Understand?” Fareeha asked. “Yea,” Angela nodded. “Yes, master,” Fareeha corrected her. Angela’s heart skipped a beat. Oh. Were they that serious already? It wasn’t a collar or anything but calling a Dom her master was kind of a big deal. Were they getting too caught up in the heat of the moment? Angela didn’t know, but more importantly she didn’t care. She wanted to say it. She wanted to give herself to Fareeha completely. “Yes, master,” She repeated. “Good girl.” Fareeha dove back between her legs and began eating her out once more. She had promised to make Angela come again and again, and by God she did it. She used her tongue, of course, but she also got her fingers involved. She thrust two of them deep inside of Angela and made her twist and squirm. The next two orgasms didn’t come as quickly or as easily as the first, but they were just as explosive. White hot, sudden, bursting through Angela like Roman candles on the Fourth of July. It felt so much better than any other sex she had ever had. Between orgasms Fareeha would lavish the rest of Angela’s body with attention. Soft kisses mostly, but the occasional gentle nip with her teeth. It was like she knew just how hard to bite so that it wouldn’t hurt. Angela adored every moment of Fareeha’s mouth on her. It had been so long since she’d been with someone who could take her into subspace, that she didn’t even realize it was happening. Everything just felt so good, so right. She felt so happy, so safe. It washed over her, blanketed her, warmed her from the inside out. “Still with me, baby?” Fareeha asked, sometime after she had managed to make Angela come for a third time. Angela moaned in reply. “Yes, master.” She loved those words. She loved saying them. She loved the way they felt in her mouth. She loved the sound of them. “You can let go,” Fareeha whispered to her. “I’ve got you.” Angela was already letting go. She knew Fareeha would take care of her. She closed her eyes, let herself drift off, let the soft subtle bliss of subspace take hold. She was aware of everything happening to her, of course. She still felt the lips that were pressed to her skin as Fareeha continued kissing her. She felt it as she was gently urged onto her side, and then her stomach. She must have been complying, moving of her own accord, but she wasn’t even thinking about it. She felt Fareeha’s warm, knowing hands massage her shoulders and down her back. She felt kisses on her spine, and her shoulder blades, and the backs of her ribs. She felt those knowing hands sliding lower, spreading her cheeks. Fareeha licked shamelessly as her hole, gliding her tongue over it. No one had ever touched her there before, much less licked. Angela should have been worried. This was something new, something different, something she hadn’t tried. Except she was so far gone that it didn’t matter. She trusted Fareeha. I’ve got you, those were the exact words she said. Angela knew that Fareeha would take care of her, please her, make her feel good. She wasn’t capable of worrying. Not here, not now. Not when that tongue felt deliciously good.Fareeha made her come one more time, a fourth and final orgasm. She lapped at Angela’s tight pink hole, teased it with her tongue, made her shift and sigh with pleasure. She reached with her fingers to touch Angela’s wet pussy as her mouth worked. The dual sensations overcame her, overtook her, and that firework spark was shooting off again. It was muted, somehow. Far away. Angela knew she was moaning, thought maybe she was saying words. Yes, master and please, master but at the same time it was like someone else saying those things, someone else feeling this orgasm tear through them. It took her awhile to come back, to touch base with reality again, for the overpowering bliss to fade to something soft and manageable. She was still on her stomach in bed, head resting among the pillows. Fareeha was sitting beside her, one hand gently resting on Angela’s hip. “Hey.” Fareeha smiled softly. Even though she had spent the entire night making Angela come, she had that just-fucked look about her like she’d been the one sent through the ringer. “You with me?” Angela swallowed. “Yeah.” That was, hands down, the most amazing sex she had ever had in her entire life. She had never experienced anything that intense before. Not ever. She was overcome by the experience, awestruck, not sure what to do with herself but lay there… “It’s okay, just rest. I’ve still got you.” Fareeha promised. “You look so beautiful right now. So…” she hesitated, trying to find the right word. “So delicate.” It didn’t sound like anything to be ashamed of. It wasn’t the insult it had been before. Angela had never considered herself delicate, had never wanted to, but that was only because she had been looking at it the wrong way all this time. Angela smiled and let her eyelids fall closed. Delicate. No, it wasn’t an insult at all. It was a compliment, and she was so wholly grateful to Fareeha for helping her to feel this way. “Thank you.”

i’m taking femslash february suggestions year round send requests or prompts ➝ here follow me on twitter ➝ here thanks for reading ✩°｡⋆

#femslash februray #overwatch femslash #mercy #pharah #pharmercy #fanfic #femfeb 2019 #femfeb

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enigmasong · 6 years

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Okay, so like, the discourse in regards to the idea of canon for Doctor Who; I got some things to add.

Not in regards to the specific subject itself, because that’s been discussed to death. I wanna take a step back and take a general view of how fandom as a whole, for anything there is a fandom for, sees the concept of canon. Because I think there is a fundamental flaw in it, which is where the people who take umbridge with Doctor Who’s lack of canon and insistence that there is one comes from.

Okay, so I play Overwatch a lot, as well you know, and Blizzard is still pretty early in the story development of it. It has that we call a canon, but we still don’t know much of it. The story’s still forming and things change. Stories shift, voice interactions become redundant, they even canceled a full comic book midway through production of it because it didn’t match where they wanted to take the story. It happens. That’s how building a fictional universe works. You create it, you develop it, and you work the bugs out. And there are never going to stop being bugs to be worked out, much like the game itself.

But Blizzard makes one tiny change to the canon and everyone loses their goddamn minds.

Oh, D.Va’s no longer a pro StarCraft II player? Well, clearly Blizzard is cowardly hacks that have no idea what they’re doing, and I, the random, untrained basement dweller with no privy into the interior workings of the company do know more about it than the creators. How dare they change this integral piece of this character we know otherwise nothing about.

See? See what I’m getting at? They treat canon like gospel they personally own. That once a factoid is put out there, it’s the word of God and must be protected from the devil creators who might dare to rip the precious menial fact away because they hate you personally.

And it’s simply not backwards compatible. Creators who make long running stories are inevitably going to have to make changes to the canon because the story develops in an unexpected way that renders and earlier remark pointless or they change their minds on something and don’t or can’t catch all the previous uses of the original idea or something just grows so big in scope with so many people adding to it that it becomes impossible for anyone to be able to know all of it in the first place.

So we get things like Doctor Who for the third one there. And they took the approach of just not caring rather than the Marvel approach of having to take university classes on every book in the Marvel line before you can begin even writing that one single Howard the Duck story you wanted to do. It allows Doctor Who writers more freedom to write whatever they want even if they know basically nothing about the universe since they don’t have to worry about knowing over fifty years worth of stuff in at least five mediums.

But still, fandom’s gonna fandom. They’ll get into a certain subsection of DW and they’re gonna treat it as gospel to feed their own superiority complex. And if they get into the RTD era first, that’s gonna be their gospel. And if the Eighth Doctor Adventures is their favorite, that’s gonna be their gospel. And every other subset of Doctor Who does it wrong and anyone who likes them are heretics. Which leaves the Doctor Who fandom in the, possibly unique, position of being more fractured than Christianity after the Protestant Reformation.

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cheonjaem-blog · 7 years

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wanna one as types of boyfriends

yoon jisung:

the walking meme. everything he does is fucking hilarious. you literally have 2000 photos of him on your phone which could be edited into potential memes. there’s never a sad/boring day in your life. he’s actually always super excited about everything and you always sometimes question his mental age but you still think it’s really cute. always makes stupid puns and jokes to make you laugh (that sometimes even results to self degradation). all that makes him happy is seeing you smile, so he makes that his daily goal. likes to send you weird pictures of him using different filters on snapchat that you obviously screenshot. he’s super funny and your whole family loves him, especially the kids. “auntie when are you getting married to uncle jisung?” “soon” “um jisung wtf stop lying to the kids” “i never said i was lying”

ha sungwoon:

the tea sipper. he has the dirt on everyone, and i mean everyone. knows what’s going on in your life, your neighbor’s life, and your second cousin’s uncle’s grandfather’s life. your dates consist of gossiping with the neighborhood aunties every week at the book club he organized. wants to know how your day is and knows you so well that he can tell when your feeling down. sings to make you feel better, and if that doesn’t make you smile, he’ll probably pull out the big guns and start dancing to girl’s day something. doesn’t mind embarrassing himself if it makes you happy :’). doesn’t like it when you call him cute bc he’s “manly not cute”. tries to fight other people when they talk shit about you. talks a lot!!! like when you’re trying to catch some z’s, all he does is talk about how your neighbor’s husband is cheating on her with her sister??? “omg don’t tell anyone but jisoo’s husband is cheating on her with her own sister” “wtf how do you know?? did you stalk her husband again??” “no way, i was throwing away the trash and i saw them?? coincidentally??”

hwang minhyun:

the perfectionist. a little ocd and always needs everything to be super clean and organized. he told you that he had perfect attendance in school and always had straight a’s. his skin is perfect, his visuals are perfect, and his voice is perfect. sometimes you feel like he’s too good for you, but then you remember how much of an awkward loser he is in real life. texts you the most romantic things, but can’t say it in person to you. you like to tease him a lot for being an awkward antisocial person. very easily embarrassed person. not a big pda person. blushes a lot. doesn’t know how to convey his feelings into words or actions, but it’s okay bc you know he’s trying hard. he looks like a cold tsundere but sike he’s a soft mochi on the inside. smiles a lot more now bc “you make me happy i guess”.

ong seongwoo:

the prankster. he loves messing around with you and pissing you off. one time he put blue dye into your body wash and you came out of the shower looking like a smurf. you guys end up having prank wars and once you even super glued his feet into his shoes. when he’s not thinking of ingenious plans to prank you, he’s actually a really sweet boyfriend. sometimes he takes you out on spontaneous dates to that fancy restaurant across town to make up an excuse to see you wear a beautiful dress. but he loves taking you on midnight rides. like he’ll drive you in silence as you enjoy the night sky and talk to you about random things and let you rant about your inner thoughts. “stop staring at me ong!! focus on the road” “you’re just too beautiful. you distracted me”

kim jaehwan:

the musician. he confessed to you in broad daylight while playing the guitar and singing a song written for you. you guys were sitting on a bench in the city and he randomly whips out his guitar and starts singing. a crowd gathers around you eventually, and they cheer when you accept his confession. he likes to write songs in the middle of the night, so you’ll probably wake up at 3 AM and hear him playing random chords on the piano and writing lyrics in the dark. he writes songs thinking about you and likes to sing to you when you have trouble sleeping. also super extra!! likes to boast about things that he can’t do like karate and playing soccer. he told you that he used to play soccer in middle school, but when you actually took him out to play he said “yeah i played soccer. i played fifa” “ugh i hate you so much right now”

kang daniel:

the gamer. he’s a huge fucking loser, and he loves playing league and overwatch and basically every game ever. tried to teach you how to play league once but you never understood anything, so he ended up carrying the team and winning. spends 95% of his time indoors, but he also likes to cuddle with you when he’s gaming. makes you sit on his lap while he wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your head when he plays. likes taking you to comicon or any other nerdy convention. but it’s endearing to see him so excited about cosplayers. “cosplay with me next year” “lol how about a no”

park jihoon:

the prince. on top of his handsome looks and dancing skills, he was also born with a silver spoon in his mouth. buys you everything you’ve ever wanted and then some. but you’re not interested in materialism ok yes you are but you’re more interested in him. so he doesn’t really understand love?? like he’s always been loved by his parents but he tries his hardest to convey his feelings for you without extravagant gifts. like this is the first time someone told him that they didn’t want a new car and he doesn’t understand why you don’t want a mercedes benz but it’s your loss?? he takes you to nice dates at super expensive high end restaurants while you assure him that getting a take-away pizza is always fine too. wears gucci and givenchy and saint laurent and tries to buy you clothes from there too but one dress is worth more than your life??? he likes to sleep on your shoulder while you stroke his hair. really cute relationship full of $$$. if you need a sugar daddy you know who to call. “you want a new car?” “wtf no i want a new boyfriend” “>:((((”

park woojin:

the shy turned wild one. yeah he was really shy when you first met but now he wildin. you tried taking him to a family party once but he was getting too into his dancing and ended up grinding the floor. what happened to the shy bean that couldn’t look you in the eye?? sometimes he’s still really shy around people he just met, and he kind of attaches himself to you. but dancing really makes him let everything go, and he tries to teach you choreographies to your favorite songs. taught you how to dance to red velvet and exo and rap to okey dokey. dates consists of dance lessons and chilling at home watching smtm together. bet milk tea on who’s going to make it to the finals. “yo it’s gonna be nucksal” “oh hell no i’m betting on hangzoo” “wow it’s only bc you like zico & dean more smh i thought you loved me”

bae jinyoung:

the nerd that turned hot. you known him since elementary school but boy did he glow up in high school. the last thing you remember was him being that smart nerd that never talked, but now he has a whole army of girls chasing after him. outside appearance may have changed but he’s still a nerd. dates consists of chilling at home and watching the latest episode of the anime y’all like while cuddling. takes you to animecon where you cringe at the weebs but where he enjoys every moment of it. likes taking you to manga and anime stores. dreams of going to japan with you. also likes to buy you cute couple charms for your phone. “i bought you the touka charm bc you’re the touka to my kaneki” “you’re such a fucking weeb lmao but sasaki is better”

lee daehwi:

the foreign swagger. yeah he lived in america for 4 years, that’s why he’s here man. just kidding, he’s a super adorable boyfriend that sometimes mixes up his languages when he’s flustered. super caring and always frets over you. nags you a lot when you get sick. “i told you not to go outside without a jacket!” but really good music tastes. makes different spotify playlists for you to listen to when you’re sad or tryna to get turnt. likes shopping dates!! he is your personal fashion designer and buys cute dresses when he thinks you look cute in them. “i thought this color suited you really well, so i bought it!” “um but it says it’s $300″ “oops?”

lai guanlin:

the athlete. he likes every sport but he’s super obsessed with basketball dude. like he’ll take you out to the nearest basketball court to shoot with him even if you can’t make a shot for your life. dw he’ll teach you the proper shooting form and how to dribble. you’ll end up having lots of cute basketball dates and afterward he’ll probably take you out for ice cream. likes to rest his head in your lap as he practices his shooting form laying down. lots of after-practice cuddles. “ew guanlin you’re so sweaty. get off of me” “no i like staying with you like this”

#wanna one #wanna one scenarios #wanna one as #yoon jisung #ha sungwoon #hwang minhyun #ong seongwoo #kang daniel #kim jaehwan #park jihoon #park woojin #bae jinyoung #lee daehwi #lai guanlin #kpop #kpop scenarios #boyfriend au

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josai · 7 years

Text

someone i once knew

This one is for @paradoxicalpsychic ! Thank you so much for so much encouragement and prompts!! Read on AO3 here!

Talking has never been Aomine’s strong suit.

Words just… aren’t easy.

Aomine is brash and abrasive; he says whatever is on his mind, and really doesn’t give a shit about the consequences. You don’t like being told the truth right to your face? Tough. He’s not the kind to sugarcoat things, because he honestly just doesn’t see the point in it.

If he’s being honest, his nature has always been a cause of strain in his relationships. Some of his friends have gone, not willing to put up with it; the few who have stuck around have helped dull the edges around his personality, but he’s never going to be a nice guy. It’s just not who he is.

But since his poor attitude has lost him the only relationship he ever really wanted to try for - well, he has realized that he can’t keep living his life this way.

Still, though, when confronted with someone, the words that he really wants to say, the ones buried deep, they really struggle to come out. When he’s forced into social interactions, he just reverts back to old habits.

It’s a lot easier talking to someone… not face-to-face.

He’s only been talking to Tiger for about a month now, but it feels like he’s grown closer to him - to this friend online that he’s never actually met - than anyone else in a very long time. It was a good decision to move to the American servers one afternoon when he’d had just about enough of shit on his own.

Now, if you ask Aomine, he’s still not exactly sure how it happened. It started in a game of Overwatch, online - grouping up after a good competitive game, and playing together for a couple of hours. They added each other as friends, which lead to chatting in-game - which then turned into exchanging contact information and messaging each other.

What began as a simple message of “Game tonight?” has evolved to so, so much more.

They talk about everything and anything. It’s like nothing is off-limits - whatever they’re thinking about, whatever comes to mind. Things they’re watching on tv. Stress at work. Friends, family. They can talk without worrying about anything, because Aomine knows that Tiger’s not going to judge him. Why would he? They don’t know each other in real life. Their opinions really don’t matter, at the end of the day.

When it really comes down to it, if Tiger and he ever really had a disagreement, they could just stop talking to each other, and that would be it. No awkward hellos in the elevator, no having to see one another at parties - none of it.

Maybe that’s the beauty of it.

Not that Aomine would want to do that, though. He’s actually managed to… open up. He’s told Tiger about a lot of things that he’s hardly talked about with his friends. His struggle with anxiety; his fears of not being able to hold down a proper relationship. Hell, he’s even told him about his ex!

He never imagined being able to open up about Kagami. The two dated for only six months, and it was such an emotional roller coaster for Aomine. The two were just awful at communicating with each other, selfish and unforgiving. They probably shouldn’t have even tried - the timing was awful, and they both just had too much happening in their lives - but they wanted to. Aomine wanted to, because he loved him, and when things were good, they did make each other happy.

If only Aomine could have been honest with him. If only he hadn’t pushed him away when he was injured and pulled out of the world of professional basketball. If only he’d trusted, maybe things would have ended differently -

Aomine’s run over every situation in his head, despite the fact that he knows it’s not going to ever really be fixed. He can’t go back in time, and they’ve been over for more than six years now. He’s pretty sure Kagami isn’t even in town anymore, anyway.

It’s been almost freeing to have an outside perspective, to have someone else tell him that he’s not a monster for breaking up with him. That it takes two.

Between the two of them, conversation just comes simply, easily.

He finds himself reaching for his phone a lot, and he doesn’t particularly want to stop.

They have a lot in common. They both play video games, sure, but they also both like basketball - even though they have different favourite NBA teams - they watch the same shows on television, and they have similar personalities. Hell, they even both work as firefighters, albeit on different sides of the world.

After a long day at work, Aomine heads home and goes straight for the couch. He flops down, falling into the fabric easily; it’s comforting, and he flips over on his back to get more comfortable. He contemplates turning on the television, but there’s no game on that he needs to see, and he doesn’t feel like listening to cooking show repeats as background noise.

He hesitates, before pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. It lights up in his hands, indicating a new discord message, so he opens it up right away.

[10tigerprincess]: i swear to god, if i have to hear my boss mispronounce my name one more time, i’m gonna lose it

[10tigerprinces]: and the court by my place is still under constructions so i cant even do that ffs

Aomine laughs, shaking his head. He doesn’t even need to think, his reply coming out easily.

[jamparadise]: still? It’s been what - two weeks already?

[10tigerprincess]: yeah i’m starting to get real fuckin tilted

[10tigerprincess]: won’t ever be able to practice at this rate

[jamparadise]: dw you wont ever be able to beat me anyways

[10tigerprincess]: i look forward to proving you wrong

[10tigerprincess]: but you still gotta send me a clip of that “special shot” of yours you say you can do, ok? i’ll believe it’s kickass when i see it

[jamparadise]: sure, remind me after i eat

[10tigerprincess]: takeout again?

[jamparadise]: fuck you

[jamparadise]: i’m too tired to cook

[10tigerprincess]: canned soup isnt cooking either but ok

[10tigerprincess]: do you even eat vegetables?

[jamparadise]: this burger definitely has lettuce on it

[10tigerprincess]: this is why i worry about you

[jamparadise]: haha, hilarious

[10tigerprincess]: i’m serious

Aomine rolls his eyes, and takes a big bite of his burger. He slides back a little further on the couch, and exhales; it’s been a while since he’s had one. He doesn’t eat them too often, but a good cheeseburger is just what he needs, every once in a while.

[jamparadise]: nah, well, it’s a place my ex used to like. i don’t go there much now that we aren’t together anymore.

[10tigerprincess]: why not? Is here there a lot?

[jamparadise]: i haven’t seen him there but, it’s just… i guess i’m scared i’ll run into him

[10tigerprincess]: hasn’t it been, like, a few years?

[jamparadise]: yea but still, idk

[10tigerprincess]: are you still pining?

[jamparadise]: fuck no!

[10tigerprincess]: aw, it’s cute

[jamparadise]: oh stfu. are we gonna play tonight or what?

[10tigerprincess]: yeah sure, i probably won’t be home until late tho, so long as that’s okay

[jamparadise]: no problem. just text me a couple of times if i dont respond right away.

[10tigerprincess]: gonna nap?

[jamparadise]: i think so. worked the morning shift so i’m exhausted

[10tigerprincess]: ok, i’ll text you, have a good rest

[jamparadise]: thanks princess

[10tigerprincess]: i will cut you

[jamparadise]: don’t work too hard

[jamparadise]: royalty really shouldn’t

[10tigerprincess]: ffs jam

Aomine snorts, and finishes up the rest of his cheeseburger. It’s good - he needs to remember to go there more often. If he runs into Kagami - fine. They’re not kids anymore, so he probably isn’t holding a grudge… right?

He finishes his food, and contemplates moving to bed - but that really seems like too much work - so he stretches out on his couch, legs hanging off the end because it’s really too small of a space for him. He turns on his phone, to pick some music to listen to while he sleeps, but remembers that clip he said he’d send to Tiger.

It’s been a while since he’s seriously practiced some basketball moves, but there’s one he just can’t seem to get right. He doesn’t have anyone to practice with seriously around home, either - anyone who will, is still far below his level, even though he stopped training long ago - so it’s just him and the court. The last time he was there he had Satsuki record a clip of him trying it out - maybe Tiger will be able to give him some pointers on what he could be doing better. So he sends the clip over, and opens up his music for some good rainy mood music. It always puts him to sleep.

He drops his phone down on the coffee table, and closes his eyes. Sleep tugs at his senses almost immediately - he’s been overworking himself lately and he knows it, but he has to. He can almost taste his next promotion. He’s been at the edge of it, of moving up to supervisor, which he feels like it’s time for. He just has to keep at it.

It feels like no time at all has passed when the sound of his ringtone fills his ears - it’s a loud song from an artist he recently discovered, with a heavy beat that always wakes him up. Groggily, he blinks a couple of times, before stretching his long limbs up and grabbing his cell phone. He turns it on, stumbling through his passcode, before it opened up to reveal the messages.

17 unread messages.

What the fuck?

He opens them up, and finds that half of them are from Satsuki, who has a habit of sending texts with just a single word on each line, so it’s really just one message. But the rest are from Tiger.

[10tigerprincess]: are you serious?

[10tigerprincess]: i just got that video

[10tigerprincess]: thats you?

[10tigerprincess]: is this a joke?

What is he getting on about? Aomine ignores the rest of the messages and instead types a new reply.

[jamparadise]: uh yeah, it is. wtf? whats wrong with you?

[10tigerprincess]: seriously???

[10tigerprincess]: youre fucking with me, right?

[jamparadise]: no??? wtf dude??

[10tigerprincess]: oh.

[jamparadise]: whats your problem??

[10tigerprincess]: no. no problem.

[jamparadise]: ???

[10tigerprincess]: nevermind. It was just impressive

[jamparadise]: well i told you so

[10tigerprincess]: dont let it go to your head

[10tigerprincess]: but why didnt you to pro?? seems like you could have

[jamparadise]: no, can’t. got injured right after hs when they were scouting...can still play but not at a pro level anymore

[10tigerprincess]: oh… i’m sorry

[jamparadise]: dont be, ive made my peace with it

[jamparadise]: you done being weird now? you still want to play?

[10tigerprincess]: sure, give me 10. just finishing my food. wanted to make sure you were awake.

[jamparadise]: alright, cool. i’ll warm up.

Aomine stares down at his phone, still confused, but shakes it off. Maybe Tiger thought he wasn’t being serious about being good at basketball.

Well, now he knows the truth about that, at least.

He heads over to the computer, logging on, and promptly forgets all about the weirdness as they get lost in an evening of gaming.

Work gets busier, which means Aomine has less and less time to spend online. Some days he manages to answer Tiger’s messages, other days not - his friend doesn't seem to be bothered by it, but always makes sure to check in a few times a day, just to make sure everything is okay.

When he finally gets a three-day weekend - which is practically unheard of, but it comes as a sort of bonus with his new promotion - Aomine spends the first day sleeping until long in the afternoon. It’s after three by the time he manages to shake himself awake, drowsy and dazed, but feeling good and rested - finally.

Not ready to stand up, he reaches for his phone and it lights up; he’s got a few messages, which he answers pretty quickly. A few buddies from work, Satsuki, and - Tiger.

He’s worried, again, and Aomine can understand why. He knows he’d be worried if the situations were reversed - so he wants to quell that.

[jamparadise]: hey, i’m awake. pretty sure i just slept for 12 hours straight

[10tigerprincess]: feeling human again?

[jamparadise]: yeah, i’ll be back to normal once i shower

[jamparadise]: still smell like smoke... idk if i’ll ever get used to how it clings to you

[10tigerprincess]: idk, probably not

[jamparadise]: well, whatever, it’s easy enough to get rid of

[10tigerprincess]: for some reason i feel like youre the kind of guy who uses a million bath products anyway

[jamparadise]: wtf no, only like 4

[10tigerprincess]: 4?

[jamparadise]: dont believe the “hair and body wash” bullshit, that shits not good for your hair or your skin

[10tigerprincess]: well i’m fucked

[jamparadise]: you won’t be, unless you get your shit together

[10tigerprincess]: thanks for the advice tips

[jamparadise]: first one’s free, after that it’s $50 a pop

[10tigerprincess]: you’re expensive

[jamparadise]: you get what you pay for

[jamparadise]: i’m not some cheap ten dollar experience

[10tigerprincess]: i see that, high-class

[10tigerprincess]: well what’s your plan for today? wanna game?

[jamparadise]: fuck yeah, im ready for an 8 hour marathon

[jamparadise]: be on in 30

He’s ready to move his body by the time he gets out of bed; he makes his way to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and stepping into the shower. He uses his six products in the shower - Tiger doesn’t need to know the whole truth - coming out of the shower and taking his time in putting on a pair of clean, warm clothes to lounge around in. It’s an old pair, from back in the training academy - they’re worn and hang a little low on his hips, but he likes how soft they are.

Food seems like a lot of work, but Aomine knows that if he doesn’t eat something proper that he’s going to get an earful from Tiger about it. He raids his fridge, and finds some leftover rice. He may not be a chef, but even he can cut up some vegetables and fry them up with the rice. It’s a quick and easy meal; in no time he has a bowl full of food that he sets down on his desk, grabbing a cold bottle of beer to go with it.

He plops down into his chair - which yes, he spent way too much money on, but it’s comfy as hell when he spends hours in it - and crosses his legs, starting up his dishwater computer. It churns to life, slowly, as he pulls out his phone.

[jamparadise]: starting up my comp now. you good?

[10tigerprincess]: yeah

[10tigerprincess]: can we talk on mic today?

[jamparadise]: huh? sure i guess?

[10tigerprincess]: i mean it’ll be easier than typing during the game

[jamparadise]: yeah i guess that’s true.

Aomine shrugs; he really doesn’t care, he just can’t be bothered to set up his headset half of the time, and Tiger never has his on so they don’t use it. He gets up to get it, digging it out of his tech cupboard, before coming back and plugging it all in. By the time he’s ready, his computer is up and he starts up the game. He’s fixing his headphones around his ears when the main menu loads, and he’s immediately thrown an invite.

10tigerprincess invited you to a group. Press Y to accept, N to decline.

He clicks on Y and as soon as they’re in group chat, he hears a bit of static, and then what has to be Tiger’s voice fills his ears.

“Hey,” he says, and his voice resonates somewhere in Aomine. They’ve never voice chatted before, but for some reason he sounds so familiar… so wholesome. His voice is deep, and masculine; it shows his age, but in a good way - they’re not teenagers. It brings a smile to Aomine’s face.

“Hey yourself,” Aomine answers, picking up his bowl of fried rice.

“How’s it going?” Tiger asks, his voice easing as the microphone settles in picking up the sounds, but he sounds.. A little weird. Well, not that Aomine has much to compare to, but his voice sounds hesitant, almost. He must be on open mic, because Aomine can hear the sound of his keystrokes, and his mouse moving across the desk. It sounds like he doesn’t have a mousepad.

“Great,” he answers, a mouth full of food. He chews, and swallows it down with a heavy sigh. “I’m home now, so that’s good.”

Tiger makes a hum to show that he’s listening, but he doesn’t say anything. Aomine can hear him clicking on his keyboard.

With no answer, Aomine keeps on talking. He’s never been one to be too quiet. “Hey, what’s up with the voice chat? I thought you hated using mics.”

“What?” Tiger clears his throat, “Oh, uh, I never had a good mic before. But I bought one this morning.”

“You bought one? Why?” Aomine finishes the last of his rice, dropping his bowl on the side of his desk with a loud clank. Tiger tuts in annoyance before answering.

“Well, I don’t know, it just seemed like a good idea.” He huffs, sounding almost annoyed, and the sound amuses Aomine. He wants to push it a little bit further-

But, then he hears another soft sigh, and he relents. He’ll torture him another day.

“Sure, it is.” Aomine nods, and their queue ends, throwing them into a quick play match to warm up. Aomine thinks something is off when Tiger picks Torbjorn to warm up with - he’s pretty strictly a tank main, and it’s a character he hardly chooses, but he doesn’t question it. Aomine makes his selection, and the game starts.

It’s a good thing they’re just warming up, because Tiger is all over the place - missing shots, standing still and getting killed, not contesting the payload - all things he would have ripped someone apart for doing, on a normal day.

As the game ends with the inevitable Defeat , Aomine breaks the silence. “Everything okay?”

“Hm?” Tiger hums, before inhaling sharply. “‘Course. Just warming up.”

“Right,” he nods, “you just don’t usually suck so damn hard.”

Tiger snorts, and the atmosphere relaxes; Aomine breathes a little bit easier in their second game when Kagami goes back to choosing characters he’s good with. Aomine, like the little shit he is, has to annoy the entire team with his Hanzo pick. It’s great.

Chatting comes easy, during the game - not a lot, but there’s some in-between enemy callouts, and cursing whoever’s killed them last.

They’re in the middle of a match, Aomine is concentrating heavily on getting some sniper kills, when a sound breaks his concentration and he misses, getting counter-sniped instead. He curses under his breath, shaking his head; but he still hears it, a quiet, soft hum coming from his headset.

Tiger is humming . Aomine has no idea what the song is - probably some American pop song, which Aomine can’t be bothered to follow, despite his English being pretty decent - but there’s something about it that just strikes a chord in him-

Oh, wait.

Kagami used to hum.

Fuck.

Aomine sighs, hesitating as his character spawns back into the game. He hasn’t thought about Kagami much at all lately - not now that he’s been so busy with work, and he’s had Tiger to hang out with on his down-time - and he isn’t ready to think about him now.

“Jam? What are you doing?” The humming stops and Tiger speaks, jarring Aomine out of his thoughts. “Are you disconnecting? Lagging? You and your damn ping-”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Aomine reassures him, shaking his head. He moves just in time before he gets booted for inactivity, and tries to shake off that familiar feeling, to no avail. They fall back into the game - Tiger keeps humming, and Aomine’s nerves are on edge for a little while, until it actually starts to relax him.

Tiger doesn’t seem to notice Aomine’s distress, thankfully, and they win the game; one victory turns into three, and Aomine is pleased that they’re on a winning streak. They’re just about to win their first match when somebody on the other team starts shit talking them in the chat; of course, both Tiger and Aomine are quick to respond, snorting and laughing at the salt and just how bad this unfortunate player is.

jamparadise: gg eeeez

jamparadise: I'm wrestling with some insecurity issues in my life but thank you all for playing with me.

Handsoap: fkin toxic

10tigerprincess: the only one who can beat me is me

Aomine freezes.

His heart is somewhere between his throat and his chest cavity, and his voice comes out strained. “What did you just say?”

“Huh?” Tiger sounds confused, and he probably is - Aomine doesn’t remember saying that, hasn’t really since he quit basketball, so there’s no way he could know - “We both played the same character, and I wrecked. He’s just gotta deal.” He snorts a laugh, and crunches down on whatever snack he’s eating, chips or popcorn in some ridiculous American quantity, probably.

“I’ll be right back,” Aomine spits out, and promptly mutes his mic. He ignores Tiger’s voice on the other end, pulling off his headphones and dropping them down on his desk with a loud clank.

He heads to the bathroom to splash water on his face, but it doesn’t do anything to help calm his nerves, or ease the churning in his stomach.

They lose the next game.

Every time they play from that point on, Tiger uses his mic.

Aomine comes to enjoy the sound of his voice, although he doesn’t stop getting little reminders of things that he liked.

Things that he misses.

After a long day and some games, they sit on Discord and just… talk.

It’s been a couple of hours now since they finished playing and turned off the game, but neither one has hung up. They talk about nothing, but also anything - Aomine doesn’t feel like he’s having to force the conversation, either. Topics come up naturally, or Tiger steers the conversation in a new direction.

“You sleeping okay now?” Tiger asks, voice light. He remembers everything Aomine tells him - he can tell he’s listening, because it’s been almost a month since he mentioned his difficulties sleeping.

“Eh,” Aomine shrugs, even though Tiger can’t see it. “Better than before, but still not great. Usually at least a few hours in the night.” It’s better when I fall asleep after listening to you talk, he thinks, but there’s no way he’s saying that out loud.

“Any idea what’s causing it?”

“Not sure exactly.” Aomine shifts, finding a comfortable spot, crossing his legs on his chair. “It was never great. Got worse when I quit basketball; got better for a while, but the last couple of months have been rough at work, so it’s probably that.”

“Ah, yeah,” Tiger hums, “That’ll do it. We had a bad fire about six months ago? I still dream about it sometimes.” He pauses, and then holds back a bit of laughter. “You know what actually really helped?”

“What?”

“Nature documentaries. I don’t know what it is - but something about just watching something peaceful while falling asleep was just… nice? It sounds even more stupid when I say it out loud,” he laughs, full-bodied and wholesome, the sound resonating deep within Aomine, somewhere, “I’m pretty sure I watched every documentary narrated by David Attenborough within the span of like, a month. I’d just put them on before bed. Sometimes it was just background noise, to fill the quiet of the apartment. Other times I’d watch and just let myself think about nothing else. I’ve got a whole shelf that’s just for nature videos.”

“Are you serious?” Aomine laughs, shaking his head. That was not what he expected to hear - but at the same time, it completely fits, and it feels so real. “How many of these documentaries are about tigers?”

A chuckle, and, “Only about six.”

Aomine snorts, “Only?”

“I like tigers, okay?”

“Yeah, I got that, princess. ” He snickers, enjoying the way that Tiger lets out a huge, annoyed sigh. “Still can’t believe that name. I was hopin’ it’d be some hot chick, but then as soon as you started typing, it was so clear that wasn’t you.”

“Were you disappointed?” Tiger asks, and it’s meant to come off casual, but he sounds almost concerned.

“Disappointed? Fuck no. This is even better. Now I know there’s a very masculine firefighter who willingly lets people on the Internet call him Princess .” Tiger lets out a full-bodied laugh, and the sound brings a smile to his face.

“Well, good. Because I… kind of have something I want to tell you.” He inhales, and if Aomine didn’t know any better, he’d think he was nervous.

“Yeah?” Aomine holds back a yawn against the back of his hand; he’s tired, he worked a full shift today and then came online to play with Tiger, as this was one of the few times that worked with their time zone differences.

“I’m coming to Japan, and I’d like to meet up.”

Aomine freezes. “...What?”

“Yeah,” Tiger clears his throat, voice picking up, “I have family there, and there’s a funeral I need to come back for - nobody that I really even knew, so it’s okay, but, since I’m going to be there, I was thinking, if you want to…”

Silence drops down heavily, but Aomine doesn’t have to even consider his reply. “Yeah. I want to.”

Things move in fast-forward after that.

Tiger tells him he’s coming in a week and a half - the funeral is just outside of Tokyo, so it isn’t far from where Aomine lives and works. Aomine has to trade half of his soul and McDonalds breakfast for two weeks just to get the days off on such short notice, but he knows it’ll be worth it.

His apartment isn’t too big of a disaster - he’s gotten not half-bad at cleaning, really - but he still spends his day off cleaning things up. He isn’t even sure if they’ll end up here, TIger hasn’t shared his plans yet, other than where they’ll meet up, in five days time.

He’s nervous, even though he doesn’t know why .

Tiger knows that he can be a shithead sometimes. He’s talked him off the edge, he’s provided him comfort after a long, grueling week of work; he’s worried about him, he’s been his friend. They talk shit together daily. He knows what he’s getting into.

Right?

Besides, they’re just friends.

Right?

He feels sixteen again, nerves alight with anticipation as he pours over possibilities for things that they can do together. He knows that Tiger likes basketball - they could head down to the court by his house, maybe shoot some hoops. Food? That’s always good. He’s probably not staying long. He didn’t tell Aomine when he was heading home, but it can’t be more than a few days for something like this.

He figures that they’ll do something low-key, maybe come back to watch a game or something. Of course, Aomine gets all the best sports channels.

He’s still not calm enough to get a good night’s sleep, though.

They exchange e-mails, and Aomine gets a message as soon as Tiger lands in Japan.

His skin tingles with anticipation. He’s always known that there is literally an entire ocean separating them, keeping their friendship - or whatever this is - from being in the flesh.

But not anymore.

Aomine has to finish his shift, and does so with vigor; he feels renewed, energy coming from some unknown place, considering that he hasn’t been sleeping well.

He finishes later than anticipated after they get a call out - almost by an hour , and he’s annoyed, but he knows that Tiger isn’t going to be upset about it. He knows what it feels like. Aomine rushes back to his apartment, throwing his phone in its charger while he hops in the shower.

He cleans himself off quickly, effectively getting rid of all the grime from work, stepping out feeling refreshed and invigorated. He gets dressed, not having to think about his options because he’s already laid everything out; a pair of clean, dark jeans, and a gray shirt. He steps into his favourite red shoes, picking up his phone to check for messages from Tiger.

He’s got one.

Tiger: hey, i just got down to the court. you gonna be here soon?

Me: yeah, be right over.

Butterflies dance in his stomach, and he swallows down his nerves. He grabs his duffel bag - he’s willing to bet that Kagami is going to want to play, at some point, so he’ll need it - and heads out the door, questions swimming around in his brain the entire time.

He’s absorbed in his thoughts; he feels his phone buzzing in his pocket, but he can’t be bothered to check it. If it’s Tiger, he’ll see him soon - anyone else he just doesn’t care about right now. It buzzes twice, but he ignores it, turning the corner and walking straight into the basketball court. If he stops, or looks up, he knows he’s going to chicken out - he just has to go and hope for the best -

“Hey!”

Aomine looks up; this voice is crisp without the barrier of the Internet between them. He isn’t sure what to expect, looking up, but-

This isn’t it.

Aomine sucks in a deep breath as his eyes meet with the last person he expected to see today.

“Kagami?”

Here? Now? It’s definitely Kagami - looking older, more rugged, than he did the last time Aomine saw him. He’s taller, more broad - but looks at Aomine with the same piercing gaze that always has had the power to break down every barrier he’s ever created.

Aomine looks around, and doesn’t see anyone else - okay, it’s fine. Tiger’s not here yet.

“Aomine…” Kagami starts, his voice smooth as silk, a confident smile on his face, “It’s good to see you.”

Aomine, on the other hand, isn’t entirely sure he still has a pulse. His heart feels like deadweight in his chest, anchoring him to the spot, despite how much his instincts are telling him to run. His ex? Today? Really? Who did he piss off so badly in a past life?

Kagami watches him, and Aomine does nothing but stare, which effectively wipes that confident smirk off of Kagami’s face. He then blushes, scratching the back of his head - he looks away, face shifting, more nervous… and shy?

He just does not have time for this right now.

“Aomine, I-”

“I’m meeting someone,” Aomine blurts out, taking a step backwards. “I gotta go.” He turns on his heel, dragging his feet to a walk, quickening his pace to try and get as much space between himself and Kagami as possible. He can’t listen to whatever reply Kagami stutters out. He definitely has a pulse now - his heart is beating a mile a minute, rattling around inside his chest, and he might puke.

“Wait!” Kagami calls, and Aomine can hear his footsteps following him. “Aomine - wait!”

Aomine ignores him, instead choosing to quicken his pace. He turns, instinctively heading back towards his apartment, his safe place.

Kagami is not giving up though, and his footsteps get closer. Aomine was always faster, and can keep pace; they keep going, until Kagami’s shout stops him dead in his tracks.

“It’s me! You’re meeting me!” Kagami all but yells, screeching to a halt and just managing to stop before he rams into Aomine’s back.

Aomine turns around, expression unreadable. Kagami swallows hard. “What?”

“It... It’s me. You’re meeting me.” Kagami looks down at the ground, inhaling deeply before looking up and trying to meet Aomine’s eye. “I’m Tiger.”

Realization dawns across Aomine’s face, sharp and fast and painful. The humming, the quotes, the late-night talks - Christ, they talked about their relationship !

“This whole time? It’s been you?” Aomine’s voice is smaller than intended, and Kagami swallows hard.

“Yeah. I mean - I didn’t always know that it was you… but… it’s always been me.” Kagami takes a step closer, reaching out to touch Aomine - but he flinches back hard, taking two steps to separate them.

The expression on his face shifts, no longer able to hide the hurt; he bites his lip, open and vulnerable, completely thrown by what Kagami has just told him. “Okay, well,” he clears his throat, swallowing down bile, “That was great. Real funny. That the punch line? You came all the way here for that?”

Aomine can’t bring himself to look up to see Kagami’s reaction, the surprise and hurt, but all he hears is the deafening silence that surrounds them, confirming everything he doesn’t want to be true.

“Great, well, then, if we’re done here,” Aomine starts, voice cracking. He laughs, hollow and resigned, fighting down anger with every fiber of his being. He turns to leave, again, this time desperately needing to get away, before he can’t hold it back any longer and he either cries, or punches him in his stupid fucking face.

“Wait-” Kagami’s calling to him, but he isn’t listening. Fuck, how could he be so damn stupid? How did he miss this? Looking back, it was so damn obvious - he should have noticed, he should have seen , but he didn’t. And now? Now he feels like the world’s biggest idiot, embarrassed and ashamed. He fell for it hook, line, and sinker, and he couldn’t regret it more.

He can hear Kagami’s footsteps, but none of his words really register. He’s too angry to listen, his vision swimming red and hazy, his limbs barely remembering how to work properly. That is, until Kagami takes a deep breath and yells, as loud as he can, “ Stop you idiot, I’m still in love with you!”

And Aomine trips, crash landing right down onto the sidewalk; he hits the pavement with a loud scrape, cursing and gasping under his breath. Kagami is at his side in a second; he crouches down, and all of his words start flooding into Aomine.

“Shit, fuck, I’m sorry - god, that looks bad - are you okay?” Kagami reaches out and takes a hold of his bicep; Aomine follows his gaze, and only then notices the sizeable scrape on his forearm, and the blood dripping down on the sidewalk, red and angry.

Kagami is touching him.

Aomine yanks his arm back on instinct, hissing with pain. He’s still reeling from Kagami’s confession. “I’m fine. ”

“Fuck, Dai-Aomine, just, let me help you, okay? You live close, right? Please - I have to talk with you.” Kagami’s eyes are wide, and honest; Aomine wants nothing more than to give him anything and everything that he wants. It would just be too easy.

Instead, he grits his teeth. He’s so damn conflicted. His heart aches; being so close to Kagami is dizzying. “Fine.”

Kagami relaxes, and nods his head; he helps Aomine up, wrapping a hand around his bicep to help lift him to his feet. His grip is firm, and he doesn’t let go as they start the walk back.

As it turns out, Aomine’s muscle memory remembers more than he’d thought it would. It’s easy to fall back into it; Kagami is strong and steady, as they walk, and if Aomine wasn’t being careful, he’d have let himself get tucked against his side, fit in close like the spot belongs to him. But it doesn’t anymore.

Aomine’s thoughts are swimming and Kagami is still flustered, so they don’t talk on the walk back. Aomine leads the way to his apartment, dropping down his duffel bag as soon as they step in.

“I’ll go clean this up,” he says, walking over to the bathroom. His knees hurt, too; he wonders if he’s got some scrapes, underneath his jeans. He absentmindedly steps into the bathroom, realizing too late that Kagami is following him.

“Let me,” he says, and guides Aomine up and on the counter. He fumbles under the sink for the first-aid kit, pulling out odds and ends that he needs.

Kagami is focused as he works, just as Aomine remembered.

He keeps his gaze locked on his arm, fingers moving delicately, and with care. He cleans out the wound first, treating it with purpose, stopping every so often to check to make sure that he’s not pressing too hard, that the gauze isn’t too tight, that it doesn’t hurt too much.

Kagami is focused, and Aomine takes what he can get - he watches him work.

His gaze sweeps over Kagami’s face; just as he remembers it, only now sharper, the lines of his face drawn a little more heavily. His eyes are deep, and concerned, and Aomine knows he could get lost in them.

He lets out a breath, eyes following the slope of his neck, down to his broad, strong shoulders. He’s even more built than back in high school; Aomine knows that it would feel amazing if he were to let himself be held, like they used to.

Fuck.

So many memories start to flood back, and fill his system; he inhales, and he can smell Kagami, that familiar, musky scent that’s so ingrained in his memory. He thought he’d forgotten it - but no, he still reminds him of their one-on-ones on the court, the adrenaline rush of a good game. He shifts, and he can feel Kagami’s warm hands against his skin.

But they’re not the same people that they once were. There was no closure when they ended things - it was abrupt, and filled with regret. Aomine longs to fix it.

Kagami finishes his work, securing the gauze around his arm. He slowly puts away the first aid kit, gaze finding Aomine’s. “Daiki?”

Christ, how did he not realize this earlier?

Aomine has to look away - he’s going to melt under that gaze, and he knows it. “Yeah?”

Kagami’s voice is smaller than he’s ever heard, and scared. “Can I stay?”

Aomine’s stomach lurches; he can feel the heat of Kagami’s gaze on his skin, but there’s only one answer to that question, really. “Yeah. Stay.”

Kagami exhales loudly, and looks relieved. He takes a step back - their closeness finally catching up to him - and shifts on his feet, awkwardly, not sure where to go, or what to do with his hands.

He’s saved by Aomine, who slides off the counter, feet finding the cold tile floor. “Come on, let’s go sit.”

Kagami nods, and follows after him, a little like a lost puppy. Aomine finally kicks off his shoes in the hallway, Kagami following suit. They make their way to the couch, and Aomine sinks down on it comfortably; Kagami sits beside him, leaving ample space in between.

Aomine has absolutely no idea where to begin. He’s still processing - there are so many questions swimming around in his head. How long has Kagami known? Why didn’t he just say something?

Is he seriously still in love with him?

How?

Sighing, Aomine looks down at his arm, where Kagami has bandaged his wound perfectly, the corners of the gauze pulled tight. It’s so damn obvious that he treated this seriously, and that he cares about making this better. Fuck. It’s such a Kagami thing to do.

He wasn’t perfect during their relationship, either, but Aomine knows he doesn’t deserve this.

Aomine can’t start, but Kagami takes a deep breath and just starts talking. “Fuck, Daiki, I’m sorry. You just gotta know how sorry I am. For everything… for what happened in the past… and for not telling you as soon as I realized… I just… I tried, so many times, but I couldn’t find the words, you know?”

Well, miscommunication was their specialty. Aomine knows he can’t do that again.

“Every time we talked, it just made me wanna see you more anyway…” He laughs, small and nervous, and Aomine feels his restraint snapping. “I’m sorry… I know you’re mad…” I’m not… “I know I don’t deserve to be here after all of this…” You don’t? What about me ? “I just can’t help myself… I’d always regret it if I didn’t try, you know?” Aomine’s throat has ceased function at this point, but Kagami just keeps going. “I missed you something fierce, Daiki. Even now, I still think about you all the time… I’ve tried asking Kuroko or Momoi for details, but they both just say the same thing - Just talk to him, Kagami. Christ, like it’s that easy. I knew you wouldn’t want to see me.” But I did, and you know that… “But then, when you sent me that video? It cleared up so many things… I realized it was you, and that the ex you mentioned - it was me! When I realized that, and I realized how you still felt… Fuck, Daiki, it was a fucking punch to the gut, you know that?” He groans heavily, and drops his head in his hands. Aomine still says nothing, just staring, his throat dry and tongue feeling heavy.

“It-It just made me see everything that went wrong, you know? God, we were both so fucking dumb. If we had talked together half as easily as we do now, online? We’d still be together.”

It’s almost laughable, really. What a pair of idiots they are.

Aomine swallows, and finds his voice, words falling out without his consent. “You really think so?” His gut twists under the look Kagami gives him - he looks so scared , like he’s ready and waiting for backlash, expecting to be hit. But Aomine says nothing else.

Kagami hesitates before he answers, looking down at the floor. “Well.... yeah. I think so.”

His heart swells, aching painfully the more that Kagami talks. His voice - it’s soothing, Aomine can feel it in his bones, smoothing out the hard, cracked lines in his being. It reminds him that this is Kagami, yes - but he’s also the friend he’s spent late nights with, laughing and talking, sharing anything and everything with. He’s the friend who would check up on him when he didn’t get online for a few days, even through the mess of different time zones.

But more than that - this is Kagami . He’s still Kagami, the person who’s always had the power to lift him up, and make him want to be a better person; a better man.

Part of him wants to be stubborn. To let himself feel all the anger and hurt that’s churning around inside of him, to refuse Kagami, and never have to feel this way again. It’d be so easy to just give in; it’s what he wants, and it’s what he did six years ago.

He doesn’t want to be that person anymore.

Kagami reaches out, tentatively and slow, and Aomine lets him. He lets his hand rest palm-up, on his knee, and Kagami lays his hand down on top of his, gently and with purpose. His fingers jump at the touch; it’s been so long now, that he’d almost forgot how nice it feels. Aomine threads their fingers together, and Kagami squeezes his hand, tight.

It’s warm, safe, right .

“What now?” Aomine asks, voice strained; Kagami squeezes his hand, and it’s comforting. It helps to ease the weight on his chest. There’s so much that he wants to say, but can’t.

I’m sorry.

Please take me back.

He waits for Kagami to take the lead, who just turns his gaze over to him, looking at him pointedly. His expression is so open, and Aomine can see all the rush of emotion on his face, almost too much to take in.

“I wanna try again.” No, you don’t.

Aomine’s limbs feel heavy. “Are you sure?”

Kagami laughs - he really laughs, and shifts closer on the couch. His free hand finds Aomine’s chin, and tilts his face up, until their eyes meet. He looks so, so relieved.

“ Yes, ” he nods, voice light and honest. Aomine’s chest tightens, but he has to know-

“So you’re going to give me a second chance?”

“Are you?” He asks, red eyes glazed over, staring heavily down, “I forgave you the moment I saw you, Daiki. The only one you need to forgive is yourself.”

Kagami’s words are exactly what he needed to hear - he breathes, fully, finally , and lets a relieved smile cross his face. Kagami is smiling, so he grabs that stupid fucking necklace - and makes a mental note that this time, he’s going to tell Kagami how much it bothers him that he wears that idiot’s ring, but not one for him - and yanks him in close, until they’re separated by mere centimeters.

“I hope you know that you’re never getting away from me again,” he whispers, voice low and heavy; he can see the tremble in Kagami’s spine.

“I’m counting on it.” He can feel Kagami’s warm breaths, and does the only thing left to do - he closes the distance between them, and kisses him. The initial press of lips is so soft, and slow, as they get reacquainted with each other. Aomine fingers twirl in Kagami’s hair, holding him in close, and Kagami’s hands slide up the back of Aomine’s shirt, pressing firmly into the sensitive skin of his lower back. A whine escapes his lips; all the pent-up frustration and feelings they’d both been trying to forget bubble right up to the surface, and Aomine feels it all, fast and sharp and hard.

He’d forgotten how sweet Kagami tastes, but he’s never going to make that mistake again.

It’s easy, really, to fall back into it. Aomine’s missed so much - the soft touches, the heated kisses, the banter, everything.

Even the way that Kagami never lets him live down anything. Ever.

They’re pressed together, laying on Aomine’s couch; his back against Kagami’s chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat. The couch is way too small for the both of them, so Aomine’s legs hang off the side; but it’s nice, this way. Kagami's hands are resting on his chest, their fingers laced together tightly. Seriously, is this real life?

“I can’t believe you didn’t pick up on my hints.” Kagami snorts. “ The only one who can beat me is me? I mean, come on!”

Aomine fake-laughs, “Oh, you’re just a fucking riot, aren’t you, Princess ?” He snickers, and Kagami responds by faking pushing him off the couch - only to pull him down and back into his lap, arms wrapped around him tightly. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?” Aomine sighs, resigned, but he can’t help but feel happy.

This feels right.

“Never,” Kagami snickers, and Aomine can feel him smile into his hair. “And also, I’m still gonna wipe the floor with your ass on the court this afternoon.”

“You’re on.”

#kuroko no basket #kuroko's basketball #aokaga #kagaao #aomine daiki #kagami taiga #myfanfic #eyyy here it is!

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