#I'm gonna go pass out now. the sleeping one not the fainting one. okay goodbye | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spacebarnes · 3 years

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favorite crime ✧ t.holland

summary: all the things you did for this relationship, you were really hoping that you were his favorite crime.

warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, a little bit of crying, Harrison being the best lad ever, leaving Tessa.

a/n: oh god this song hit in the wrong places but anyways, this not have a lot of conversations and it's short but painful so yeah, hope you like it! request are open, also english it's not my first language so i'm so sorry about any mistake. take care of yourself pls <3 (not my gif)

You took a big breath of air and stood on your tiptoes to reach for the purple suitcase on top of the closet. It was already decided, today you would leave.

The house was beginning to feel empty. Some of your pants were still in the drawers, waiting to be put away. But, your favorite mugs along with your shoes were already packed in another suitcase in the living room.

"You'll be right here when i get back, right?"

"Of course, Tommy."

Bullshit.

Those were the last words you shared with your "boyfriend" in the morning and the last words you would share for a long time. You ached for those two sentences, because you knew that somehow you would always wait for him no matter what.

Memories began to flood your mind as you opened a drawer and Tom's scent wafted into the air for a few moments. It was going to be hard to get used to a new smell.

Your relationship had probably started in the worst way; you and Tom met in a bar, the night fell and you fell into his bed only to find out later that he had a girlfriend and you were the "other".

At some point this wasn't sitting right with you, it wasn't just casual sex anymore, the two of you were falling in love without thinking about what might happen in the future and that was just fucked up.

He finally broke up with her, that meant he was all yours. Although, your heart was broken when you found out that the Spider-Man filming was over and he had to go back to London with his family.

The two of you agreed to have a long distance relationship, and so it was, for five months the only thing that kept you close to him was a screen and video calls at three in the morning because of the time difference.

Until you came up with the idea of buying an apartment in London and surprising him. Probably the best and worst idea of your whole life, but you were living your love story, who cares?

You met his family and friends some time later. At this point you knew it was serious and you knew what you were getting into.

Then came the move, and finally you could share a bed with him for the rest of your days.

Or that's what you thought.

Thursday last week, 4 am. Your need to make pee woke you from your sleep and so you had to leave the bed to head to the bathroom as quickly as possible.

Tom's cell phone was "charging" in the bathroom socket, although it really was plugged in wrong and didn't even have 2%.

Nothing bad was going to happen if you checked it, right? You knew it was wrong, but Tom's indifference these past few weeks told you to do it.

Tears started to fall in the sink when some messages with "Samantha" didn't look like friends, but something else.

It took you a week to process whether you should stay and deal with it, or if you should just run away and pretend this never happened and start over in another country.

And the latter option was the one that caught your attention the most.

You plopped down on the couch, taking a second to watch as the house looked lifeless and the two suitcases in front of you were packed.

You started crying again, you still couldn't believe that your fairy tale had ended right here. And just as it started, with a cheating relationship.

Tessa came up to you as soon as she heard your sobs and started licking your face to wipe away your tears, having no idea what was going on.

"Oh Tess, i'm sure that you are the only one who's gonna miss me." you ran your hand and over her head and pushed her a little so you could get up and put water and kibble on her plates.

The doorbell rang a few minutes later and you mentally prepared yourself for what was to come. You opened it and found Harrison, who pursed his lips into a line when he saw you.

"I'm gonna lock the doors and leave Tessa outside, 'm right back." you told him and he just nodded, giving a quick glance around the house, noticing the sadness overflowing from the walls. You really were the joy of the place.

When you returned your things were gone and Harrison was waiting for you in the car, so you assumed he had already taken them up.

The drive was silent, only the faint melody of the radio could be heard. And somehow you were glad it was like that.

"Are you sure that you want to do this?" he asked as he lowered the last suitcase from the back seat.

"Yeah. I mean, I don't belong to London and I have nothing to do here. He's got a new girl and I'm sure he'll be fine." you replied with a bittersweet smile.

"What about you? You're gonna be fine?" his question really got you thinking, you'll be fine without Tom? Sure he'll be fine without you, but what about you?

"I guess I'll find out eventually," you grimaced and nodded, then checked the time on the watch on your left hand. "Thank you for bringing me here, and for everything, i guess."

"It's nothing, what you deserve." he shrugged his shoulders and moved closer to you so he could hug you, resting his chin on your head.

"I hope when you see the chain you are now wearing you will remember me." you broke off and played with the chain hanging from his neck, for you had given it to him on his birthday.

"I will, i promise." he said between a little laugh and the atmosphere was silent for a moment.

"Come on, Haz. Give me another hug." you moved closer again and when your head made contact with his chest you felt your eyes get wet again.

"Don't cry because i'm gonna cry, dumbass." he said as he felt his shirt get a little wet and tears began to fill his eyes.

"Goodbye." you sighed and picked up your suitcases to start carrying them to the entrance.

"Have a good flight." was the last thing he said before he opened the car door so he could get in and drive home.

The flight was leaving in an hour and a half but you had to be there earlier to check in and you had already done that, so there was nothing left to do but wait for the call.

You turned on your phone and your wallpaper caught you, realizing you hadn't changed it yet. It was a picture where you and Tom were sitting on the grass, away from everyone and in your faces you could see the happiness, at what point did it vanish?

Time passed quickly and when you remembered you were already climbing the stairs to get on the plane, until you felt your phone vibrate and you knew instantly who it was.

Tom's name next to a heart lit up your screen, and you stepped out of line to think if you were really doing the right thing and not overreacting.

"It's everything okay, miss?" the flight attendant asked when she noticed you stopped moving forward and you were practically the last one left to board the plane.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry." you apologized and turned off your cell phone to enter the plane, accepting your fate, without turning back.

"Welcome to flight 230, London to Canada."

When the plane took off, you were hoping that you were his favorite crime.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #oneshot #tom holland angst #tom holland x you #peter parker #tom holland smut #peter parker smut

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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years

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The Lost Boys Find Out Their Fem!S/O is Pregnant [3/4]

Guh, this one has taken the longest so far. Dwayne is such a strong silent type, and unfortunately got the least lines in the film so I had to really push myself to get into the right mindset. I think it came out fantastic, I hope you guys love it too. Now it's time for:

DWAYNE

Rays of light were beginning to crack through the little nooks of the ceiling, a slow sunrise ushering the vampiric quartet into the depths of the hotel ruins for a long anticipated rest after another wild night. The last to go was your night bird, Dwayne. Calloused hands dragged on your cheek, stealing away any kisses he could. You savored the smokey scent his hair carried and nearly giggled at how his stubble tickled your neck.

"Dwaaayne, I'll still be here tonight," you insisted, gently nudging him off. "Go inside before you burst into flames."

He chuckled with a wide grin, taking one last kiss. "Alright, I'll be back. 6 o'clock on the dot, as soon as the sun goes down."

"It's a date."

You watched him scurry into the cove, pushing past collapsed beams and cobwebs. How they could sleep in that you would never know. Still, that meant you had an entire day to kill before they would be up again. A long, boring day.

You had stopped verbally complaining long ago, every time you did David would insist if you just let Dwayne bite you, this wouldn't be a problem. But you just weren't ready. At least, not yet. The night was so alluring, and every day you felt yourself wanting to be beside them more. However, you still had some final days to cling to. Maybe it was just the fear of making such a massive change. Cowardice.

Just waiting around the cave quickly grew boring, laying atop the bed that once housed Star and Laddie now eerily vacant. You tried to pass the early morning hours by flipping through magazines, listening to your portable cassette player- yeah, you knew it was going out of fashion, but CDs were so expensive, and you were not about to let the boys steal a $200+ player just to listen to Mötley Crüe on a slightly different player. You'd brought your own entertainment after so many visits, but you soon groaned when you realized it was only 10 am. There were still 7 and a half hours of waiting to go, and you were nowhere near tired enough for a nap!

Maybe a quick walk would kill your boredom, a quick snack on the boardwalk, pick up the guys something to munch on before they go out hunting. Yeah, that should be good.

With a soft grunt you scooted off the bed, wedging your feet into your boots with your backpack slung over your shoulder. "I'll be back soon," you whisper out loud, looking over at the dusty hole they'd disappeared into. Dwayne definitely couldn't hear you, but it still felt nice to give a little goodbye every time you went out. This time you'd use the cave entrance that led up those old wooden stairs. The walkway was a gorgeous deck barely over the water. On high tide it could wash over and hit your feet. Part of you was amazed it was still standing after so many decades of wear and tear.

However, the moment you looked outside it made your eyes squint, weighing heavy on your brow. Was it always this bright during the day?

It got significantly worse once you were fully outside shuffling around the debris littered across the rocks. It wasn't just your average tired eye sting. That was pretty common after spending all night out, and half the day in a dimly lit cave. But you'd never experienced it like this. It was a splitting, throbbing headache that almost made you lose your footing. You had to close your eyes just to feel any kind of relief. Noise was amplified- Oh god, those stupid seagulls made your ears ache!

Walking just made it hurt more. It was taxing on your body, like wading in molasses in August. Now, you weren't a stranger to the heat. After all you grew up on California sunshine. Almost thrived in it. Now you barely made it up the stairs atop the cliffside, until you just had to sit down. Wedged tightly against the banister you reveled in the tiny slivers of shadow that cascaded from the wooden railing. When your jacket became to much you peeled it off to use for cover, and eventually you forced yourself to continue walking. What was happening?? Those few steps were enough to make your stomach wretch and twist with starvation. Truthfully you hadn't been eating well lately, everything just made you nauseous. Stomach flu, maybe. Why was the ground spinning..?

And that was it. The next time your eyes opened the last bits of sun were long gone. Something- no, someone, was shaking you, trying to snap you out of that fog. They yelled out, nearly swinging you around like a ragdoll in a panic. It was muffled, you could hear another voice, then another.

"Y/N! Y/N!"

"Dude, you keep shaking her like that, she's gonna break something."

"What is she doing out here in the first place anyway, man?"

A huge breath of life reanimated your body, almost screaming as you sat up crashing into the chilled chest of Dwayne who still had you in his arms. "Hey, easy, easy. You're okay, it's just us."

Quickly your eyes darted around. Dwayne's arm was hooked under your back elevating you off the ground, Marko was knelt on your other side with Paul leaning on the smaller vampire's back. David was just behind Dwayne with arms crossed, looking down at you.

"You know, Y/N, if your bed was uncomfortable we woulda gotten you another," Paul teased.

"Dude," Marko questioned, lightly elbowing him in the ribs.

"Ow. Aw, c'mon I'm just kiddin'."

Dwayne still wouldn't set you down, pushing sweaty locks of H/C from your face. "What happened," you managed to ask in a raspy voice, carefully shifting your weight onto your butt.

"We found you out here, I was hoping you could tell us," David answered with a cigarette clenched between his teeth, a small flame roasting the end into ashy cinders.

"I honestly couldn't tell you. I only wanted to head over to the boardwalk for an hour or two. I thought I could pick you guys something up on the way back but..," you held the side of your head, the remains of your headache still lingering from earlier. "My stomach hurt all over and.. I just fell."

Something just wasn't adding up, enough that David paused, looking at you. Your heart beat was calm but… every other beat an entirely new rhythm would chime in. Rapid, quiet, stirring. "You sure you hadn't been with anyone else, Y/N?"

"What," You questioned, immediately offended by the implications of that question. Unsurprisingly, Dwayne was equally outraged as he helped you onto your feet.

"Y/N isn't like that, you know this David," he snapped. Dwayne always had that sulking gaze but it wasn't often he was legitimately upset. With his arms still around your waist you could feel his muscles tighten into cement. The atmosphere was so thick you could cuz it with a knife, and after a few minutes of intense glares… Dwayne's eyes widened.

He heard it too. Faster than your own heart beat, buried deep below it was almost too soft to hear. A pulse submerged in water.

He had been so busy worrying about your fainting, he never realized why. It made sense the more he thought about it. Grabbing you, he spun you around to face him. He hadn't intended to be so rough that even Marko was telling him to ease up. "You swear.. you swear you haven't..." The suggestion was cruel. He didn't want to even say it out loud, and your face twisted into one of disgust, slapping his hands off your shoulders.

"Alright that's enough," you snapped, stepping away from all of them. "What is with all of you?! Is this just how you guys check up on people who faint, accuse them of adultery? What the fuck?!"

You could feel tears forming in your eyes and you immediately had to look away. You were not about to show weakness while angry. Dwayne gently took your wrist before you could storm off, looking deep into your eyes. Why did he look so afraid, even in the inky night you could see something haunted those chocolate orbs. "Dwayne...What's going on…," you asked again, this time softening your tone. David, easily sensing the building tension, cleared his throat.

"Marko, Paul, let's wait inside."

"Aw what," Paul chimed in, arms up in the air. "No way man, I wanna know what's going on! What's with all the crazy??"

Marko looked at David, then back and for between you and Dwayne. Oh. He got it. While Paul still protested, Marko slung his arm over his shoulder and yanked him down to whisper in his ear. At first he looked utterly confused, but then his face went wide. The realization of the century. "Ohhhhhhh," he finally said, looking over at you. "Gotcha. Good luck babes, we'll give you guys a little alone time." Both blondes had these odd smirks on their face, no doubt clued in on the inside joke you were definitely a part of yet left completely clueless. David followed them down the steps with a smug grin, giving a small wave.

Alright, now you were confused. Dwayne didn't speak though. He just clasped your hand tightly in his. All he said was "c'mon" while lightly pulling you along. The moon was so huge tonight in lit up the ocean, a sea of stars dipped in black. There you both sat, legs just barely hanging off the edge in utter silence. Whatever it was must have been weighing heavy on his mind because he never turned to look at you. Instead he kept your hand firmly clutched in his own, staring straight off into the unknown. His sigh broke the silence, fingers tightening around your hand again. "There's more than one heart beat… coming from inside you."

It took a moment for what he said to sink in. Another..? What did that-...

Oh. That's why they were being so weird. It was hard to breath, like someone was sitting on top of your chest. And now what haunted Dwayne's thoughts now crept into your own. Their suspicions were reasonable. No one figured that.. well considering the boys were undead it wasn't exactly expected for you to..

"Dwayne I…," you started, looking at him. "I've never been with anyone else. You know that, right?"

This time he couldn't speak, just nod in agreement. Of course he knew you were loyal. Honestly he never doubted it, but the shock of what that meant was a bit much for him to handle. He'd taken care of Laddie alongside Star for years, even before he turned, he was great with kids. But the thought of fatherhood never really crossed his mind. Were he human it'd be common sense, he'd be at the proper age. Maybe even already have a family.

But he was 19. He just… happened to be 19 for a very long time. Quietly he pulled you by your waist so you were beside him, then nudged your head onto his shoulder. You weren't scared, just in awe. For a moment you brushed your hand over your abdomen. It was warm, already firm to the touch. In the months to come you knew it would grow, your baby would grow. But in that moment, as Dwayne's calloused hand placed over yours feeling that little life stir inside you, you felt at peace. That was that. You two sat there for what felt like hours, watching the waves, watching the moon rise high above. It really was a beautiful night. A perfect night. The first night of many more to come.

#lost boys imagine #lost boys 1987 #lost boys #lost boys dwayne #billy wirth #the lost boys #lost boys fanfiction #fanfiction writing #fanfiction #pregnancy #pregnant #vampire pregnancy #pregnancy imagine #lost boys vampires

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ghoulcouriersix · 3 years

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Happy Together

Pairing: Female V/Gustavo Orta

Characters: Fem V, Gustavo Orta, Johnny Silverhand.

Tags: Angst/Hurt, Comfort, depression, loss, death, grief/mourning, Johnny is a sweetheart deep down, best friends.

Summary: Cherry shows a piece of her past to Johnny, opening up old wounds in the process. Johnny shows his soft side even if it's only for a little while (this is NOT canon to Cherry's story just a little AU)

The drive up to The Columbarium is always a tough one. On typical sad days it always rains but this time the blistering heat of the sun makes Cherry's skin melt and stick to the leather of her car seat. The mumbling of the radio a pleasant distraction as the looming dread of those tall pillars comes into view.

"The fuck are we doing here?" Johnny glitches into existence in the backseat making the woman jump.

"Just paying a visit, why are you back there anyway"

Johnny leans over, pointing to the flowers resting in the passenger seat.

"Don't wanna sit on em"

"Well look at you being thoughtful for once" Cherry scoffs

"I know better than to disrespect the dead, you know me better than that" he declares as the car rolls to a stop. Her hands grip hard to the steering wheel.

"You can stay in the car Johnny I know this shit isn't your thing"

"You're obviously here to see someone I'm not stupid, you need me and I'm here, always. You know that"

Who knew this parasite that wormed his way into her head had a heart, even if he's slowly killing her, Johnny is.. something else. There's no romantic attachment but the idea of being alone, no Johnny to wake up to, his snarky comments or the fact he's always there when she needs him. All alone. That made a pit swill in her stomach. She knows at the end of the day it's either him or her but as the days pass by it's getting harder to make that fucking decision.

"Thank you Johnny, really. I would" she pauses "I really need you"

"Anytime kid" he then flicks out of existence with a smile.

Her lips itch for a cigarette as the anxiety builds in her stomach, anything to taste the burn of nicotine on her tongue as it fills her lungs full of cancer and satisfaction.

Peeling herself out of the car still fighting the urge for a smoke. Flowers in one hand anger in the other, she walks up the stairs, her heels clicking on the spotless tiles. The silence is deafening, feels like the whole world is zoomed in on her like this is some game. Such a fucking funny game.

She grips the flowers hard as the faint sound of crying comes into earshot. She rushes by quickly ignoring the tears already burning in the back of her eyes, rounding a corner the crying dies down as her destination comes into view. Biting her lip hard she stands face to wall.

"Hey Gustavo, I missed you" her lips twitch.

Gustavo Orta, the man you always could rely on. Rest in peace.

She sits crossed legs facing the blue plaque. A lonely pot of wilting flowers lean against the wall along with half melted candles, she reaches out and touches the petals gently. Dry but soft.

"I'm sorry the heat got to you so badly, Gustavo would flip if he saw this" she chuckles through the pain as she collects the water jug next to the pot and watches the water slowly trickle down the flower into the soil.

She sets the new flowers next to old, the comparison between the two is too hard to ignore. One discoloured, brittle, starved the other fresh, lively, perky. It reminds her of herself in a way.

"Who's this?" Johnny squats into view pointing at the wall "brother, friend, boyfriend?"

"Husband actually" she looks at Johnny with a small smile and also a little humoured seeing him so taken back.

"You? Married? You don't look like the marrying type Isabella wait sorry Cherry"

"No, call me Isabella please" she corrects him.

Silence falls between the two, it's awkward the kind of tense that you wish something would happen to break the ice.

"How'd he, you know, don't have to tell me like" he moves into a side sitting position.

"Some Merc zeroed him, had a hit on his head because of a rumour of all things. Saw him with a girl of the opposite family, dad got jealous and tried to have him killed but she got the bullet instead so they sent in a reliable Merc. Grabbed him when he was alone and yea. Had to go identify the body they fucked him up so bad. Not the way you wanna remember your husband's face" she falls silent as the tears threaten to break free.

"Shit, I'm sorry kid I know this sorta stuff I hard to go through, lost someone special to me too so you're not alone"

"Doesn't get easier does it?"

He replies to her question with a sorrowful head shake.

"I thought as much, he would've liked you, he had a thing for assholes with a soft center" she laughs as her head rests on his shoulder. He smelled like cigarettes with a mix of sweat and cologne.

"Of course he would've what's not to like about me, everyone warms up to eventually even you" he huffs out as laugh when she jabs his side.

"Wanna smoke?" She looks up at him, his eyes glued to the wall with an unreadable expression.

"Light em up, I'm itching for one. I can feel your eagerness too" she shuffles in her jacket pocket feeling the paper of the cigarette dancing across her knuckles.

Man did it feel good to have that burn in her lungs again, the sweet dull taste washing over her tongue like a tsunami. She remembers how Gustavo's lips used to taste. A kiss so hypnotic it drove her crazy. Soft dreamy hair she ran her fingers through every morning, his gentle touch that made her blush and squirm in all the right ways. She's a complicated woman with two sides. One reserved, hidden away the other outgoing, bubbly and loyal and it made her feel exposed the way he'd crack open her personality and see a side only he got to see.

"So tell me about him, what was he like as a husband?" his hand gently runs up and down her back.

"The best, the fact he had to run a whole gang under his belt but never raised his voice or his hand to me or anyone close to him, sure he got irritated, work got him down and he may have snapped at his members sometimes but he was always smiling and laughing while having that charming sarcastic personality. He was..the best I could've asked for" the tears break through the barriers and run down her cheeks. Dripping on her hands.

"Hey, no tears. We'll get the guy who killed your husband alright? He took something away from you, something important and yea we may have hated each other's guts at one point but Arasaka can wait. You're more important right now" his arm pulls her into his chest gently

"I've got you kid, it's okay. I'm here" he says soothingly as her hands grip onto his tank top. His chest is the perfect pillow to bury her face in and just let it all out. His arms wrap around her body tightly, covering her with his body.

"Thank you Johnny out of all the people's heads you could've infected I'm glad it was mine" she laughs while she wipes her tears away.

"You're welcome sweetheart, you owe me a new tank top though, got your snot n' tears all over me"

"Yea I um maybe blew my nose on you while I was there" she bats her eyelashes at him in a puppy like fashion

"Disgusting, you're not crying on me ever again" he wipes at his shirt with a annoyed look in his eyes

"Fine, I'll just do it again when you're not looking. Now" she stands and stretches with a yawn "let's get the fuck out of here, I've let all my sad bitch out for the day"

"I'm gonna nap in the car, think I earned it after all that" he glitches next to her with a smirk

"Okay. Deal. Now get your ass in the car before I change my mind"

"Will do princess" he salutes as he fades back into nothingness.

She quickly bends down, kissing her fingers and pressing it against the plaque. Saying goodbye will always make the hole of loneliness in her heart grow, threatening to swallow her whole but she's got shit to do.

"Sleep well baby, I'll be seeing you soon" she whispers, walking away from The Columbarium once again, Like history on a never-ending painful loop. Stay strong tomorrow is a new day.

End notes: thank you sm for reading my sad bitch shit. I promise next one is gonna be a lot happier and fluffier :3

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk #female v #fanfiction #mine #Gustavo Orta #spotify #comfort #deprssion #loss #angst #best friends #Fem V/Gustavo Orta

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pamgkrthwrites · 4 years

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Oof, the angst of the sleeping with deku, no threeway, one. First, it's pretty silly to think about in the first place since I'd never ask Katsu that, even if it was to tease or as a joke, so the whole situation wouldn't even happen. But. The angst got me a little teary lol. What could someone possibly do to make it up to him after that? It'd have to be sincere and heartfelt. What would be big enough, what would someone even start with?

Maybe giving more physical attention, like trying to hold his hand in situations you normally wouldn't (like when just sitting on the couch or something), maybe giving massages to him after work, or having a bath ready for him. But would be even be open to these extra touches after you hurt him?

Next idea: Food. You could spend money on buying the best spicy dish in town for him, but, even though the intention is for him to taste of THE BEST food you'd be able to offer him, I'd be afraid that all he'd get out of it was that you spent money on him, which can be sentimental, but not in this situation. So what I'd do is go with a homemade meal. Get a recipe to make all parts of the recipe, not just buying it pre-made. Make the chili/curry paste yourself. Spend the time, effort, and resources to do that, when it would be easier to just buy it pre-made. I like spicy food, but I think Katsuki would have a higher tolerance/preference, so making the spice level to his taste is a must. You have to taste test the dish, and I'd consider tasting something you know is too spicy for you so your loved one has it perfect to be love. Maybe he'd soften up too, when he opens the fridge and sees a container of the leftover paste you marked 'Spicy Katsu Paste' with small explosions doodled around it.

But is that really enough? Extra touches and a homemade meal? I don't think so. And I'd be so anxious trying to think of what to do to prove my love for him. Words have no effect here, it feels like it has to be acts of service. And I can really only think of one thing that I might fix things, but at the same time, I'd be so nervous and 'Why would I think this would work? It's stupid!' and ugh, even just sharing it here makes it seem dumb. But... uh, I... I'd try to make a picture book about him. I'm an artist, so I thought maybe I could show him my love by spending time and using my skills to put my words of love for him into physical form as a book. Talk about how great he is at being a hero, and mention all the small and big things that you love about him, each page with a drawing of him on it. But that would take so much time and effort, but it'd be worth it to save the relationship. Wouldn't want to dissappear while he's awake in case he thinks you're okay with leaving him alone when he's finally at home after work, so that leaves working on the book for when he's at work and after he falls asleep. But it'd still take a while, what if he gets impatient and thinks I'm not doing anything to make him stay? I'd probably cry and ask for some more time, promise him I'm working on something, beg for him to wait a little longer. But that book would be my last hope. If he doesn't forgive me after that, I don't know what I'd do. But, because of ~imagination~, I can just say that I fell asleep at my desk one night, and when Katsuki wakes up to get ready for work, sees I never even got I bed, and sees the light on in the office and finds me asleep on the desk, thus also finding sketches/WIPs of the drawings of him. And that's when he knows I still love him and he forgives me, and he'd carry me to bed before resuming getting ready for work.

Ugh, that's it. End of the ask. Sorry for that huge block of text!

I thought of something similar lmao.

I think to prove to him you do love him, you respect his time with you and that you are committed to the relationship you can only prove in actions. I also don’t think sex will work either because thats how all this mess started and he might take it as you only using him for sex. If you are living with him it will be easier because he will see how hard you are trying.

I think making his favourite food(Satan curry), being glued to his hip and coming in at lunch time at his workplace to give him lunch will work, especially the going into his work place. This will tell him that you are willing to push time that you might need to do your own things to focus on him.

If you work from home(like being a indi writer or artist) then coming into work with him will really prove to him you are sorry. He wouldn’t mind if you bring your laptop or tablet if your doing this, you are just gonna have to work on his lap.

If you are friends with Deku, avoid him. Don’t text him, don’t hang out, don’t fall. Text him really on maybe asking him not to talk to you because it’s Bakugou related. Don’t tell him the real reason why because he might come over to check up on you and haha, say goodbye to Bakugou :,) He would start packing up his shit once he sees Deku. Nothing can fix it now.

The finial straw that proves to him is if he finds you passed out working on a project, notices you aren’t going to bed to get his day ready, you have an anxiety attack over it, had a stress break and you crying in a corner, or you hurt yourself while making currying(burn, cut, fainting). Because it will show to him you have pushed yourself as far you can to prove your love to him, and that will mean the world to him... and also give him an ego boost - we are talking about Bakugou here! He would love the idea that you care so much about him that your willing to break.

My brain did a “what if you were pregnant during all of this” and I want to cry. If he knows, then simple acts are enough because he is willing to stay for his child but also knows your emotional and may have taken the joke too far this once. If he doesn’t know, don’t use it as a way to keep him to stay because he will think your lying. If you get violent morning sickness, it will wake him up and he will clue in. It will be a finial straw because your pushing yourself to the point you might hurt the baby. He will take you that you were just being giggly in that moment because of the excitement and didn’t know what you were saying either. He will find out anyway and will make sure and will just be forgiving.

What I haven’t brought up is the amount of time, because if it takes longer then a month then he will end the relationship. He’ll pack up his things, block you, move in with Kiri. Don’t get me wrong, he wants to be with you, but he has his limits, and if you can’t make up to him about a joke about Deku within a month then what’s the point? The best idea is to get him to forgive in the first two weeks. A week is fast but it would say a lot to him. 2 weeks is the most reasonable, and he will love you just as he use to.

#bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader

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kiarasflowr · 4 years

Text

Kiara Carrera Imagine. Flowers are always pretty, even when they are dead. Mentions of depression, self harm, suicide. Death of character. Don’t read if any of this is or will be a trigger for you.

Summary: Your love for Kiara and the pogues isn’t enough to keep you from finding comfort in a deadly intention.

As if routine, every morning you woke up with a heavy heart and dread for the day ahead. Your mind would always be hazy, your dreams from the night lingering with a teasing taint - a reflection of what you couldn’t have, what you couldn’t feel.

Despite the weight on your chest and the discontent with being awake, you forced yourself out from underneath the covers and the warmth they provided, shivering as the cold air wrapped itself around your half bare frame.

With small, quiet footsteps pattering on the wooden floor, you left the comfort of your room and wandered through the hallway, quickly ducking into the bathroom before your still sleeping friends could wake and take notice of you.

You glanced into the mirror, sighing at the state of yourself. There was mascara smudged beneath your eyes and a faded smear of lipstick left by kiara. Your hair was poofed and tangled, loose strands falling and sticking to your cheeks.

Without a second glance, you slipped out of your pajama shorts and long sleeved top, and turned on the shower. You stepped into the glassed in area, relaxing underneath the warm water as you let it swallow your body. Your hands massaged through your hair and over your skin, cleaning yourself of any smudges or dirt.

Once the water ran cold, you shuffled out and dried yourself with a towel, quickly pulling on a pair of washed out jeans and a sweatshirt. you brushed out your hair and checked your appearance, settling with the bared skin look.

The second you stepped out of the bathroom, you heard the front door open and close and soft groans echo through the living room. you walked out into the room, your nose immediately filling with the scent of coffee.

Kiara sauntered over to you, handing over a fresh hot cup of caffeine, and pressed a light kiss to your lips. “Good morning baby,” she greeted you, her voice soothing to your ears. with a sip from your cup, you smiled at the girl as a bid of thank you.

“Alright sleepy heads, here you go,” one by one, she handed off the rest of the cups, each person eagerly reaching out for the warm liquid.

John B. was the first to stand from his place on the couch, “Will there by any chance be breakfast? Because i'm starving.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to disappoint my good pals, now, would I?” You chuckled, playfully smacking the boy on his shoulder as you wandered past him and into the kitchen.

While the boys conversed and messed around, Kiara helped you prepare the mornings meal - chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, and fresh fruit. It was the usual whenever the group spent the night together.

Stacking food onto several plates, you whistled for the boys and watched as they rushed to grab the food from your hands.

“Much appreciated, Y/n,” Pope gave you a warm smile before he took his seat at the table, both john b. and Jj following behind him.

“Yeah, you're like the best cook ever,” Jj beamed at you, his mouth stuffed with pancake.

Kiara wrapped her arms around your waist, and you leaned into the warmth of her touch, breathing in the scent of her perfume. She lifted her head from its place on your shoulder, looking at you with eyes full of admiration. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Kie,” you brought your hands up to cup her face, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to her forehead and then her lips, indulging in the taste of her cherry chapstick.

“As much as i enjoy this view, you two should really get a room,” Jj teased, the other two boys nodding in agreement as they laughed.

You separated yourself from Kiara, the hint of a pink blush heating up your cheeks. Kiara shook her head with a giggle, giving your hand a squeeze before joining the boys at the table with her own plate of food.

Once everyone had finished eating their meals and dishes were discarded into the sink, plans for the day were discussed.

“It’s a nice day to take the boat out,” John B. suggested, and the group chimed in with various hell yeah's. But you shook your head, clearing your throat as you stood and buried your hands into the sleeves of your sweatshirt.

“I think i'll pass, today. But you guys should definitely go, have some fun.”

“Are you sure? It wouldn't be the same without you,” Pope looked at you with concern, for you were never one to say no to spending the day out on the water.

You nodded, “Yeah, I’m sure. I just need a day to myself, to relax and such. Next time, though.”

“Alright, if you insist,” the boys all got up and quickly packed any discarded belongings, bidding their farewells before heading outside. Kiara lingered, concern laced in her features.

“Is everything okay? Do you want me to stay? We could watch movies or something.”

You intertwined a hand with hers, giving her a reassuring smile, “No, it's okay, everything's okay. Some alone time just sounds nice, for today.”

Kiara nodded in understanding, pulling you into her arms in a tight embrace. “I’ll stop by later tonight then, okay? I love you.”

“Okay, I love you too,” with one last glance, Kiara waved goodbye and skipped out the door and toward the boys, all hollering as they started up the car and drove away.

With the house cleared out, you took a deep breath and let the smile drop from your face. You tiredly walked back to your bedroom, curling into the comfort and warmth of your bed and it's bundle of blankets.

Though your body desired to drift back into a peaceful sleep like before, your mind was busy with thoughts, therefore sleep was not what came. Instead, you were overwhelmed with pain and feelings of uncertainty, your mind screaming out in exhaustion and anger.

Your own brain betrayed you, tearing you apart word by word, a storm that left you trembling and empty. Salty, hot tears streamed down your cheeks, temporarily staining the grey sleeves of your sweatshirt which you used to wipe at your face.

You’re worthless. No one likes you, they're all just faking it. You’re such a disappointment. you're a failure. Kiara doesn't love you, why would she? With every disgust, hate filled word, you cowered and begged it to stop, pleading with your own thoughts to grant you mercy.

But they only screamed louder, each word like a freshly sharpened knife. You buried your head into your hands, furiously wiping at the tears that burned your eyes. You’re better off dead.

Suddenly, your head jerked up, that one thought lingering in your mind, as if on repeat. The thought reached out to you with welcoming hands, drawing you in with a facade of bliss.

With a tear stained face and heavy breaths, you dragged yourself out of bed and desperately searched the drawers of your desk. With a relieved sigh, you pulled out a small bottle which held what you desired.

Twisting the cap off, you dumped it's belongings into your shaky hand. The silver of the blades shined in the sunlight, giving you a sense of what could only be described as eagerness for self fulfilled mercy.

Carefully, your brushed your fingers over the blades before gingerly picking one up and holding it within your grip. Letting the rest fall back into the bottle, you rolled the sleeves of your sweatshirt up, giving you a view of your scarred, but bare wrists.

Sucking in a breath and holding it, you dragged the sharp edge of the blade across your skin. You winced at the pain, blood starting to seep from the deep inflicted wound. Without hesitation, you placed the cold metal against the skin of your other wrist, forcefully dragging it once more.

Dropping the blade onto the floor, amongst many droplets of dark red blood, you leaned your back against the frame of your bed, closing your eyes and letting the pain, and relief, wash over you. The voices in your head had finally quieted, giving you the peace you longed for.

Your eyes fluttered open and you stared down at your wrists, watching the blood as it spilled out and pooled around you, soaking the fabric which clung to your skin.

There was a faint smile on your pale lips as you felt the heaviness on your chest drift away, your head light and body weak. Minute by minute, your breaths became more shallow, and your eyelids drooped as you gave into the darkness that seeped in.

It wasn't long after that Kiara arrived back at your home, knocking on the door as to not scare you by walking in without warning. When you didn't answer and she heard no movement from inside, she opened the door, peering in to search for any sign of you.

“Y/n? I’m back, and I brought some food,” she called through the house, standing in place to listen for any sound. The silence was deafening, and though it worried her, she talked her fears down by convincing herself you fell back asleep.

She tossed the bagged meal onto the coffee table and slipped off her shoes, casually wandering back to your bedroom. “Hey, you awake? I-”

The second the door was open and you were in full view, her voice got caught in her throat at the sight of your pale, blood soaked body on the floor. She ran to you, falling to her knees as she frantically shook your shoulders.

“Y/n, baby, wake up. Please, baby, wake up,” tears poured from her clouded eyes, fear settling in her bones. In quick motions, she grabbed a discarded t-shirt from the floor and ripped it into two pieces, wrapping them tightly around your wrists.

With one pleading call to 911, kiara pulled your body close to hers, laying your head against her chest. “You’re gonna be okay, they'll help you. You’ll be okay,” her whole body trembled as she held you, her tears mixing with the blood that stained both hers and your skin.

But it was too late. No matter how fast they came, no matter how fast they worked to save you, you were a goner from the minute you brought the blade to your skin. And no amount of begging or praying could bring you back.

#outerbanks #obx #lgbt #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #imagines #loveislove #kiaracarrera #romance #xreader #jjmaybank #sarahcameron #popeheyward #topperthornton #johnbroutledge

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shall-we-imagine · 6 years

Text

Lovely. (Sigurd Curtis×Reader *AU*)

Requested: 15. "If my day gets any worse, I'm asking hell if they're having an exchange program." + 22. "Insanity runs in my family. It practically gallops." From the prompt list.

Genre: Fluff.

(Second Person Point of View)

"I'm telling you, Amelia! This psycho lady kept insisting I give her a cheese burger with no cheese! And when I tried to explain to her that this is basically just a burger not a cheeseburger, she went nuts!" You complain into the phone, as you struggle to open the door to your apartment without dropping your grocery at the same time.

"Like what even is this?! And when I finally gave up and told her I'll get her that cheese burger with no cheese.." you recite the customer's words in a tone of mockery, "She just still wasn't having it! She asked to speak to the manager who wasn't even there at the time! All my coworkers and even some customers had to intervene before she tries to kill me or something.."

You hear loud laughter from the other side of the phone. "I'm sorry; it's just-" your friend pauses to laugh even harder, "it's actually hilarious; I'm sorry."

"Amelia!" You whine dramatically, "Stop laughing at my sorrows!" Even though you let out a little laugh yourself, you were still willing to demand she doesn't laugh...just because.

After locking the door, you slip off your shoes, placing it near the door frame, then walk into the kitchen to put the items you bought in their correct places.

"At least it's over, though, right?"

"Well, that's not all. After waiting at the bus stop for like 15 minutes, I realized I had forgotten my purse in the changing room, so I had to go back to get my purse then walk to the bus stop again, and by now, I'd already missed the bus, of course. Therefore, I had to wait for 30 minutes for the next bus." You sigh, "And don't even get me started on that weird guy from the supermarket!"

"What happened?" Amelia giggles, still amused by your irritation.

"So, you know how I prefer buying groceries alone because it makes everything quicker and helps me focus better and not forget anything?" You begin placing items on shelves and in the fridge, not planning to stop the phone call before you're done ranting.

"Yeah?"

"Well, this random dude that I never even met before decided that my angry aura wasn't enough to keep him away, no! He decided to just walk up to me, for no reason at all, and make conversation. Now, this wouldn't be too bad if he didn't follow me throughout the entire time I was shopping. Even after I expressed my discomfort and annoyance, he just couldn't take a hint! And I was in no mood for being flirted with or being talked to at all actually." You huff.

"Woah, it's like the universe is just purposely pissing you off."

"Tell me about it! If my day gets any worse, I'm asking hell if they're having an exchange program."

Amelia laughs. "Just get some sleep; you'll be fine." She assures.

"Yeah, I'm really exhausted; I just want to pass out for a week!" You become more and more eager to drown in your own bed the closer you get to your room.

"Well, I'll let you nap for now, but don't forget the essay; we have to hand it over on Tuesday!" Knowing your habit of procrastination, Amelia never fails to remind you of the stuff you need to do. Multiple times.

"I know I know; I'll get started right after I wake up..and eat..and maybe watch an episode of-" She cuts off your already clear intentions of procrastinating.

"(Y/N)! Right after you wake up and eat! Don't make me come over there and supervise as you write!" She threatens.

You groan, "Fine; I'll do it."

After Amelia declares her temporary victory, you end the phone call and get comfortable in bed, ready to get some rest before you have to do your assignments. You set your alarm for an hour after the current time then place your phone on the nightstand.

The mattress and pillow partly engulf your body in heavenly softness, and you happily let the irritation from earlier float away.

However, life seemed to have more troubles to throw at you today.

The sound of drilling coming from the other side of the wall behind your bed startles you into full consciousness. Frowning, you wait a few minutes in hopes the drilling would stop, but, sadly, life still hated you and had no plans of having mercy on you. Trying to ignore the drilling was a hopeless case, too.

"Honestly, what the fuck is wrong with my neighbour?! It's been 25 minutes! What's up with all the noise?!" You complain to yourself, pushing your face into the pillow out of frustration.

You let out a huff. "I'll go talk to them. I'm not sacrificing my sleep for them to put up some decorations or whatever the fuck they're really doing."

Smoothing down your hair to make it look presentable, you contemplate whether you really need to change your pyjamas to go knock on your next door neighbours and ask them to keep it down. Nah.

You rub your eyes, still feeling sleepy and exhausted, as you wait for your oh-so-lovely neighbour to answer the door.

"Hello?" Greets a male about your age. Well..let's just say he certainly is really really really lovely. And suddenly, you regret not changing into something nicer than your my little pony print pyjamas.

He gave you a sweet smile as if he wasn't just chasing the sleep away from you with his drilling.

"Uh, hi." You shuffle your weight from leg to the other awkwardly. "Would you mind..um..not drilling into the wall right now? I've had a long day, and I'm trying to sleep.." You waited for a rude reaction, but the expected response never came.

Instead, the purple-haired male pokes his head back inside the apartment. "Vincent! Hey, Vincent!" He yells.

You hear a faint yeah? come from inside before the neighbour you never knew was so handsome shouts again, "I told you you're gonna bother our neighbours, but did you listen?! Nooo, you decided to try it anyway! Just stop drilling!"

"What neighbours? There's only one other apartment on our floor; don't make it sound like I'm bothering the entire buildi-" the other voice kept getting louder, indicating the person was walking closer to the door. When he finally reached the door and pulled it open, Vincent that was yelling from inside paused mid-sentence.

"Ooh, I see why you're so concerned about the noise." The redhead shoots a wink towards what you assumed was his flatmate before walking back inside, leaving good-looking neighbour flustered.

"Uh-um, never mind him. He just likes joking around; it's nothing, re-" His embarrassed rambling was cut off by a yell from inside.

"Shut up; you know you were calling her cute earlier, Sigurd!" Sigurd's panicked eyes meet yours, and you could practically feel the temperature rising in the hallway, due to the heat emitting from both your faces.

Despite how embarrassed you are, you were still absolutely flattered, which caused you to let out a small giggle, further increasing Sigurd's blushing.

"He's only joking; don't take him seriously. He just likes to embarass me." Sigurd tries to indirectly deny his flatmate's comment. You would be disappointed if it weren't so amusing and adorable watching him sheepishly sputter out excuses and defences.

"Are you saying you don't think she's cute then?" A blond pokes his head outside. You could tell he wasn't wearing a shirt, but he didn't seem to mind being seen like that.

Sigurd falls into another spiral of panicked, embarrassed babbling. "No!" He quickly turns to look at you, "I don't mean you're not cute! You're certainly cute- I mean if I were asked, I'd say you're cute- Like I wasn't just thinking about you being cute; not that I wouldn't think you're cute- oh my god, I'm sorry; just forget about this! Klaus, just go put a shirt on and leave me alone!"

By now, you were full on laughing hysterically at the interaction between Sigurd and his other flatmate.

"It's only fair, compared to how much you tease me." The shirtless male shrugs, walking back inside.

Sigurd sighs. "I'm sorry about Klaus and Vincent; they're practically family, so we tease each other all the time." He scratches the back of his head.

"It's okay." You smile. It was as if you'd completely forgotten you came here, ready to fight whoever disturbed your sleep. "Must be really fun living together like that, though."

"Yeah, I suppose." He nods. "Things sometimes get insane, but we're used to it by now. Insanity runs in my family. it practically gallops." He chuckles.

You let out a laugh, "Yeah, I totally know what you mean."

Seeming to have forgotten about being sleepy just a while ago, you allow yourself to have a full conversation with Sigurd. It may have lasted for a full hour, and you wouldn't even know.

"My goodness, just ask her out already!" Vincent yells from inside.

"Shut up!" Sigurd yells back.

"You really have no idea how to get the ladies, huh?" Klaus joins the yelling fest.

"Says the guy that thinks insulting the girl is a good way to encourage and motivate her!" It seemed like Sigurd had gotten comfortable around you, so he was no longer affected by their teasing; he was ready to talk back now. It somehow made you feel warm inside.

"I'm just being honest!" Klaus defends.

"You're just being mean!" Vincent argues.

"I'm not mean!" Before long, Vincent and Klaus had gotten in an argument in the backgroud, allowing you and Sigurd to retrieve your one-on-one conversation.

"Well, um, do you wanna go grab some coffee later?" Sigurd smiles. "You know..to prove them wrong?" He fakes an innocent smile.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's why." You giggle. "But, sure, why not?"

After deciding the time and day, you said your goodbyes, and you went back to your apartment.

At least now when Amelia calls again you can distract her with news about your date, so she doesn't have to scold you for not working on the essay until now.

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calciseptinefic · 7 years

Text

solo and pair

Yuuri!!! On Ice || Victor Nikiforov/Yuuri Katsuki || Hasetsu, Part VII notes: also available on ao3. warnings: none

part vi

After Yuuri fails to qualify for the Grand Prix series, life returns to the same monotonous rhythm: morning runs, school, evening practice, school work, and sleep. Occasionally, a minor competition or exhibition will shake up the monotony. Yuuri wins a majority of them with the same routines he performed at tri-regionals, though at the gentle behest of his part-time coach, he minimizes the two quads in his free skate to triples.

"You don't have the right number of rotations," his instructor says. "We can continue to practice of course, but for now I think we should increase your number of combinations and focus on your presentation. That should buff up your points."

Yuuri acquiesces, and only the plethora of prizes—the ribbons and trophies, the monetary consolations and the small prestige—help soothe the sting of disappoint. He needs to start landing quads if he wants to further his career, but it seems that not matter how hard he tries, he cannot pass the point he has reached.

"You're plateauing," Nishigori says one day as they sit on the benches outside the rink, boots laced and hard guards on as they patiently wait for open skate to begin. Yuuko, already graduated from high school and working full time at Hasetsu Ice Castle, is helping a small semi-circle of children take their first tentative steps on the ice. "It happens."

Yuuri huffs, irritated. He knows that all athletes plateau, and he knows that they often do so multiple times over the course of their careers, but knowing it and experiencing it are two entirely different things.

"I've plateaued before," Yuuri bites out. He sounds whiny and petulant even to himself, but he cannot care. He is tired of his lack of progress.

"Then why are you letting it bother you?" Nishigori slaps his broad palm down on Yuuri's bouncing knee. It does not hurt but it does startle, and Yuuri jumps in his seat. "You have to let your body catch up to your ambition. Take a break." Nishigori grins. "You do know what a break is, right?"

Yuuri frowns at Nishigori's teasing. Though it is good-natured and friendly, it still strikes a nerve. Yuuri knows that his body—freshly seventeen and nearing the rough end of adolescence—is adjusting to the physical and mental rigors of semi-professional figure skating, but it has been months, and he hasn't completed a quad of any sort. Even the easiest jump—the pick assisted toe loop—evades him. He feels stuck. Stagnant. In his darker moments, Yuuri wonders if this new plateau is actually his summit.

"I know what a break is," Yuuri mutters as he pushes Nishigori's hand off his thigh. "Don't be a jerk."

"Hey now!" Nishigori's self-satisfied grin grows. "I'm just being honest!"

"Oh," Yuuri drawls. "And here I thought you were just being rude."

A year ago, Yuuri's smart comment would have prompted Nishigori to scowl and punch Yuuri just a little too forcefully in the arm. Now, Nishigori merely laughs and knocks his shoulder companionably against Yuuri's. He has become more agreeable in the past year; he is kinder and easier to talk to. Yuuko says it's because Nishigori has finally grown up, but Yuuri—who has seen the soft way Nishigori presses his fingers to the middle of Yuuko's stomach—is not sure age is the only contributing factor.

"Seriously though," Nishigori continues once the mood mellows. "Taking care of yourself isn't just about training and eating right. It's also about taking time for yourself. Focusing on what's important." Nishigori's eyes follow Yuuko as she glides slowly backwards over the ice, a train of inexperienced kids trailing after her. "Besides, the longer you practice, the more likely you are to make a mistake and hurt yourself. Can you imagine what a disaster that would be?"

"No," Yuuri replies instantly. Though bruises, cuts, and chapped lips are a fact of figure skating, Yuuri has never experienced anything worse than a grade II ankle sprain. The ten days he had to stay off the ice had been the longest ten days of his life. "No, I can't."

"Then take it easy," Nishigori says.

"I'll think about it," says Yuuri.

March in Hasetsu is a nebulous time. Snow clings stubbornly to the curbs while patches of grass brighten along walkways. Birds return to roost in blossoming trees, yet the sun remains a distant and heatless white disk. The thawing air being to smell of clean earth and sharp ocean salt. The chilly wind nips. The last of winter tangles with the first of spring and Yuuri—who spends half his life on artificial ice—puts on a coat but not his gloves before he leaves for school.

"Are you going to be home tonight?" Mari asks, taking a drag of her cigarette. They are sitting side by side in the private entryway as Yuuri ties his shoes and Vicchan's wagging tail thumps against the floor.

"Same as usual," Yuuri replies. "The rink closes at nine."

Mari exhales, smoke dissipating upwards. She taps the ashes from the end into a small ceramic dish she carries in the folds of her work robes and says, "You're not going to celebrate with friends?"

Yuuri is confused for a moment, thinking of Yuuko and Nishigori. He is about to say, "But I always meet them at the rink?" when he remembers that it is the last day of his second year of high school.

"Oh," Yuuri murmurs. He tightens the knots of his laces. "I don't—they're my classmates."

Mari scoffs, "What, so they can't be your friends?"

Yuuri frowns at his sister. There are classmates he talks to before the first bell, classmates he sits with during lunch, and classmates he exchanges good-byes with when the day ends, but he's never spent time with any of them outside of school. Few of his peers understand his dedication to his sport and those who do spend their time with their own passions. It's a little ironic; his parents had originally enrolled Yuuri in figure skating to help him make friends, but it ended up being one of the things that prevented him from deepening acquaintanceships.

"I didn't say that. It's just…" Yuuri shrugs. "No one's really interested in skating."

"Or," Mari drawls, "Victor Nikiforov."

Despite the faint flush that scores his cheeks, Yuuri is more annoyed than embarrassed at Mari's pointed remark. He turns away from her, pushes the heel of his palm against his sternum to ease the ache he always feels when Victor Nikiforov's name comes up, and huffs wordlessly.

"Okay, kiddo, okay. I'll stop teasing you about your crush." Mari laughs, a low rasp, and snubs her cigarette out in the dish by her knee. "Have fun at school."

Before he leaves, Yuuri scratches Vicchan behind the ears one final time and begrudgingly says goodbye to Mari. He is sure that the last day of school will be sedate and uneventful, and he is right; exams were completed the previous week, and the busy work his teachers assign is simple. Some teachers don't even bother with the pretense and announce a free period. Predictably, Yuuri's classmates break off into their usual cliques and talk about their plans for the three week long break ahead of them. Yuuri—who is not as anti-social as Mari accuses of being—joins such a group instead of staying at his desk and re-watching the previous Four Continents free skates on his phone.

"I'm going to my grandfather's in Hokkaido," one of the three other boys in Yuuri's circle says with a grimace. "There's still a ton of snow up there and he always puts me to work. I'm in the prime of my youth! I should be somewhere warm, playing video games and meeting cute girls at the café."

"You'd need a girl to actually agree to a date first," a second boy interjects. Yuuri and the other boys snort at the slight.

"Hey!"

"Maybe getting it will be easier in Hokkaido?" the second boy continues with a smirk. "At least those girls don't know what a meathead you are. Who knows? You might even meet your soulmate! I bet she's gonna be a country girl with a huuuuuge pair of—oof!"

The first boy punches the second in the arm, harder than is considered friendly, and they begin to slap and pinch one another over the desk separating them. It is not an uncommon thing; they push each other's buttons in the way close, lifelong friends often do, and no one in the room pays any attention to it.

"Man, I wish I got to leave town," the third member of their group bemoans to Yuuri. "I tried to get my parents to let me go to Osaka with my cousin, but they want me to attend cram school the whole time. They keep bringing up early entrance exams, too." He sighs and rests his cheek in the palm of his hand. "What about your parents? Have they been riding you too?"

"No." Yuuri shakes his head. "I mean, my older sister started working at the onsen right after she finished high school, and I don't think my parents ever said anything to her, either."

"Lu-uh-cky," says the other boy, drawing out and doubling up on the first syllable. "I wish I had a family business. I could just skip university altogether and get to it."

Yuuri says nothing. He does not mind the inevitability of working at Yu-topia—the onsen has been in his family for many years, and he likes the traditional, sedate atmosphere of the inn—but he knows that he cannot do so immediately after he graduates high school. First, he must find out how far his skating will take him; if he does not, he knows he will regret it for the rest of his life.

"What about you?" The question startles Yuuri from his thoughts. "What are you doing over break?"

"I'm—uhh—I'm going to practice my quad toe loop," replies Yuuri, truthfully if not a little cautiously. Mari's earlier sentiment rears its ugly head and makes Yuuri wonder if he's boring. He isn't interested in the same things as his peers—isn't interested in destination vacations, or studying for exams, or fooling around—and he is acutely aware of this fact. "I want to be able to land a quad by the time the season starts."

Yuuri will also be watching the ISU World Championships with Yuuko in a couple weeks, but he doesn't voice this plan. If he does, he knows he'll inevitably wax poetic about Victor Nikiforov and his stunningly bittersweet programs. After Mari's inaccurate assumption that morning, Yuuri knows he isn't ready to be teased a second time about his…. idolization.

"You know, I always forget that you figure skate," the other boy murmurs. "Aren't you nationally ranked?"

"Yeah," Yuuri says. He competed in the All-Japan Figure Skating Championships in late December and finished twentieth with an total score of 152.08. Yuuri is keenly aware that, if it weren't for his presentation scores, he wouldn't have ranked at all. "I didn't do very well."

Yet before Yuuri and the other boy's small side conversation can go into further, more difficult detail, the first half of their group stops rough-housing and pushes the topic back to their break. Yuuri is thankful for the change of subject. It has always been strangely hard for him to talk about his skating to people who aren't Yuuko, Minako, or his part-time coach; he puts too much of himself into the sport to express himself properly to people who aren't a part of the figure skating world.

The rest of the school day passes and ends uneventfully, and less than half an hour after break begins, Yuuri is in the locker room of Hasetsu Ice Castle. Nishigori is already there; he goes to a different high school than Yuuri, and he often beats Yuuri to the rink by several minutes.

"Hey," Nishigori greets as Yuuri sets his gym bag down on the concrete floor. Their assigned lockers are next to one another, as they have been for several years. "Not celebrating with friends tonight?"

"No," Yuuri says. "Are you?"

"No." Nishigori shrugs nonchalantly. "My graduation ceremony is next week, anyway. You're still coming?"

"Wouldn't miss it," says Yuuri. He knows that school has always been hard for Nishigori; Nishigori wasn't book smart, and he struggled through most of his classes. His diploma will have been hard earned. "I'll even wear a tie."

Nishigori snorts but does not say anything while Yuuri perfunctorily changes out of his school clothes and into the athletic gear he wears while on ice. Over the past year, Yuuri has grown several inches and lost the last of his baby-fat; his jawline is sharper, his stomach is flat, and his hips are narrow and trim. He knows he will never be as tall or as muscular as Nishigori, but those things matter less to him now than they once did, and Yuuri no longer hesitates when he unbuttons his navy slacks and strips out of his sweater.

Yuuri's lack of self-consciousness while undressing is also due to his customized soul mark cover. Minako had bought the first one online for his last birthday; in the four months since then, Yuuri has amassed a dozen of the same mark covers in various shades of black, blue, and gray. The cover is a sleeveless top that cuts beneath his ribcage, rises high on his neck, and hides every wild tendril of his mark. The fabric is tightly-woven, light-weight, and moisture-wicking, which is perfect considering that he wears one at all times: when he goes to school and when he works out, when he skates and when he dances, when he's at home and when he goes to bed. The only time Yuuri does not wear his cover is when he showers.

Once Yuuri is done changing, he sits down on the bench next to Nishigori and pulls on his skates. He hunches over to reach his laces, his sternum pressed to his knee.

"Yuuri," Nishigori says. "I… I want to ask you something."

"Yeah?" Yuuri—who is focused on properly lacing his boots over his high arches—does not quite catch Nishigori's subdued tone.

"I need a favor."

"Sure," Yuuri says as he moves onto his second skate. "What is it?"

Nishigori does not answer. Instead, there is a rustling noise as though Nishigori were shifting the clothes around inside his gym bag, then silence. It is not until Yuuri finishes his task that he looks up—

—and sees the small, unopened black ring box cradled in the broad palm of Nishigori's hand.

part viii

#fandom: yuri!!! on ice #pairing: victor nikiforov/yuuri katsuki #rated: m #victuuri #yoi

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