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silverbladexyz · 3 months

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TW: Mentions of death, injuries, self-loathing. Part 2 to this. Part 3 is here.

"I can't believe you sometimes. What if you had actually been killed because of your recklessness?!"

"But I wasn't! Even if combat isn't my strong suit, I had it all under control; and besides, these wounds are nothing compared to what we've faced before!"

In the normally tranquil environment of the Port Mafia's infirmary, two voices argued back and forth. One laced with worry and anger, the other laced with guilty adamance. A pair of best friends seemed to be the reason behind this noise; with their stubbornness a guise of the true feelings that they harboured for each other.

"Are you seriously kidding me right now? Even if you had it all under control, that doesn't mean you can gamble your life away like it's nothing! How do you think everyone would feel if you died? Do you want to put them through more pain and suffering that could've been prevented if you were more cautious? Do you even care?!"

"..."

Instead of replying, you turned away, suddenly finding the window to be more interesting than whatever was going on right now.

He was right. You didn't think properly about the consequences before you jumped straight in to engage with the enemy, even if you may have had a backup plan.

"... I'm sorry."

It was soft, but Chuuya managed to catch it.

He gave a small sigh, his shoulders dropping as the tension in them wore out. You fiddled with your bandages, not having the courage to look at him in the eyes. Did you even deserve to, afterall? When you worried him sick after he learnt that he almost lost you?

You heard his footsteps approaching you, and mentally prepared for the next thing that he was going to say.

Only for him to somewhat tug you into his arms.

Your eyes widened, and you blinked several times before realising that Chuuya Nakahara, your best friend, was hugging you.

His breath fanned against your collarbone as he buried his face into your shoulder. Strong arms held you close to him, being mindful of the injuries that you sustained on your body- yet the grip they held you in was tight but secure.

"... You idiot. Don't you dare do that again."

It was the most vulnerable you had ever seen him.

You hugged him back, inhaling his rich scent as an unknown heat bloomed in your chest.

"I won't. I promise, Chuuya."

His warmth never left your memories.

Now, you watched as he stood with her, holding her hand. They were too far away for you to make out their words, but whatever she said made Chuuya laugh. A genuine, happy laugh that seemed so much more different from the short chuckles he normally gave you.

He put his arm around her shoulder, and you unconsciously hugged your body as you felt yourself getting colder. It was the third of December- the start of another winter in Yokohama. Marking the six month anniversary of their relationship.

A wry smile made it's way on your face as Chuuya pulled Yasuko in for a kiss. Even though it was a short peck, it was enough to make your heart twist in longing that exemplified whenever you were around him. It was stupid; you knew that your best friend deserved to have someone much better than the monster you were, but it didn't stop you from wishing that you were her. Someone that was a sight for sore eyes, with an aura brighter than the blue skies- someone that could get Chuuya mesmerised.

You even noticed how he became slightly more distant in the friendship. You knew that he wasn't doing it on purpose; he was still the great best friend that he always was, but the little signs were there. Holding your hand so that you wouldn't get lost in the crowd had diminished to just staying close to you. Whenever you called him on a free day to ask if he wanted to hang out with you, he would apologise, saying 'I have a date with Yasuko later'. And the fact that you had the same free days really said something about how much they meant to him.

You walked away, the sight getting too much to handle. Once you were at a safe distance, you crumpled against a wall, biting down on the inside of your mouth to stop the tears from leaking out. A higher-ranking mafioso like you, crying over some crush? Pathetic. An unfitting model for your subordinates who looked up to you as a great unflinching leader.

"Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty." You chuckled bitterly, digging your nails into your palms. You hated it- the soft gaze in Chuuya's eyes whenever Yasuko was mentioned, the way that he gently held her hand, the way he became much more sweet and patient with her that was almost nothing like how he acted around you- you hated it all. You regretted not confessing to him sooner all those years ago.

But you were only the side character in their romance; forever doomed to support them while you suffered in silence.

Was there something or somebody that you could blame for this agony that you were currently in? Destiny, perhaps? Or even Cupid? Those names only made you scoff as you stuffed your hands into your pockets.

There was nobody you could blame except for yourself.

Perhaps it would have been better if you were the one who saved Yasuko, not Chuuya. They would have never spent as much time with each other, and you'd still have a chance at romancing him. None of this would have happened if the roles were reversed at that time.

But who were you kidding? One way or another, they’d end up together by the red string of fate. The most perfect match in all of Yokohama that could put every other couple to shame. And you'd always be the third wheel- the 'best friend' whose sacrifices went unseen just so that they could be happy.

Or maybe it would have been better if Yasuko didn't exist in the first place.

"-Y/N? Y/N?"

A voice broke you out of your thoughts, and you blinked a bit before refocusing onto the girl in front of you.

"Is everything okay? N-not that you have to tell me what's wrong, but if you ever need someone to talk to, I'll always be here for you."

Yasuko looked at you with a concerned expression, her eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

Those innocent, beautiful eyes of hers that had held Chuuya captive in their gaze.

Ah, right. You were currently in the shopping mall with her, because her boyfriend had asked you to accompany her like some sort of bodyguard. And who were you to refuse, as his best friend who was always there for him? Well, you were grateful that Chuuya trusted you enough to let you near Yasuko. You had seen how protective he was of her.

"... Nothing. I'm alright."

You smiled at her, all traces of your previous emotions now gone. How could you have let your composure slip so easily? This hangout was so that you could 'get closer' with her, not reminiscing about the pathetic past that held you captive in this agonising love.

She frowned a little, but before she could say anything else, you jumped at the opportunity to distract her. Anything that could make you temporarily forget your pain for one moment was what you desperately needed now.

"Oh, looks like they're selling discounted jewellery! Let's take a look! You might find something that you like."

Grabbing her wrist, you dragged her towards the jewellery store despite having no intentions to buy anything. You simply wanted her to be distracted by the precious stones, so meticulously cut and fit into fine metal that it was laughable how they were mostly for show. A valuable trinket only made to be admired and forgotten at the end of the day, even when so much blood had been spilled over them. Blood that would forever stain the hands of a sinner such as you.

"Oh! I remember Chuuya taking me to a similiar store! He bought me a ring; I said that there was no need, but he insisted." Yasuko glanced down at the gold-and-red circlet that lay snugly around her index finger, her gaze becoming shyer as she profoundly remembered the day that her beloved boyfriend had bought it for her.

Your own silver ring that he gifted to you on your 18th birthday paled in comparison to the 5-carat Burmese ruby that sat atop her finger. It was a harsh reminder of who the buyer really preferred from between the two of you. That twisted feeling in your gut resurfaced, but you pushed it back down. You had no more frivolous hopes that he would one day realise you were the one whom he truly belonged with.

"Haha... did he now? I didn't know Chuuya was such a romantic. Did you know that rubies symbolise passionate and undying love?" You smiled as she blushed; the redness on her cheeks rivaling the shade of the precious gemstone that was proof of his commitment to her.

People were right when they said love hurts, but they never mentioned that it was the most painful sensation in the world. All the stab wounds and burns and whatnot that you had experienced from your enemies were nothing compared to a broken heart. A heart that was made to be torn apart to pieces as it weeps for the love it would never get.

Something cold brushed against your wrist, and you looked down to see a bracelet made up of the most exquisite yellow topaz. Yasuko held an identical one in her hand, her expression almost bashful as she faced you.

"I... I wanted to get matching bracelets for the two of us. I know it's only been a few months since we became friends, but being around you has really brightened up my life. I'm glad that we got to meet each other, and I hope that our friendship continues to grow and strengthen!"

She smiled at you; a smile so full of purity and beauty that it would've made many men fall onto her knees in front of her. It was a smile that didn't belong in the dark depths of Yokohama- instead, it belonged to a goddess that was too good for this world. A goddess that clearly deserved to call Nakahara Chuuya hers. Just seeing that smile made you feel infinitely more guilty about the nasty thoughts you had about her each night.

Yasuko's smile faded, worried that she might have overstepped your boundaries due to your silence.

"S-sorry... I should've asked you beforehand if you wanted to buy matching bracelets. Please don't force yourself to buy it just to make me happy-"

You shut her up by slipping it onto your right wrist, the topaz seeming to reflect the sun's golden rays back at you. Shooting her a smile, you grasped Yasuko's hand and put the other bracelet onto her left wrist joint. It fit nicely; just like anything else that she wore.

"May our friendship last until death do us part." It was a pact that you had sworn with Chuuya before. And you always kept your word, never breaking a promise to someone no matter how bizarre or extreme it was.

How unfortunate, really, that death did you apart too early.

@circinuus @riiwrites @ruanais @justcallmesakira @yasu-masashige @oldworldpoolhall @heartsfourdazai @ashthemadwriter-uwu @sariel626 @yuugen-benni @chocsra @iridescentdove

#silverbladexyz #no way did I just pull a Heather in my fic #it's a good song though #i hope this was okay #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x female reader #chuuya x gn reader #chuuya x fem!reader #part 2 of unrequited love fic #yellow topaz symbolises friendship btw #unrequited love

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akantorrr · 9 months

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The Ballad Of Blind Love

I've had this one song stuck in my head for literal weeks, so here's art (2 versions cause I couldn't decide on the colors)

Fellow italians, I'm sorry for turning a 60's song gay

(song's "La Ballata Dell'Amore Cieco" by Fabrizio De André btw)

More details and variants here

#ultrakill #v1 ultrakill #gabriel ultrakill #gabv1el #help I can't stop drawing these two idiots #also De André's songs are a bop but the lyrics are dark af 50/ of the time lmao #that's why I love playing em on guitar #fun fact! there's no gender neutral pronouns in italian #and this song specifically refers to a man offing himself for a woman's love #but in italian the pronouns for V1 could be both male or female because The Machine = LA Macchina (F) or The V Model = IL Modello V (M)#and many- MANY other ways to refer to V1 that have both male and female pronouns. So yeah #so yeah the female pronouns in the song refer to the machine and not a woman and noone can change my mind #sorry fellow italians- the song is now gay #digital art #my art

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sapphiresgarden · 2 months

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TRACK 0 ˚♬ ﾟ.: INTRODUCTIONS. Let's all take a look at our magnificent cast, shall we?

NAVIGATION ˚♬ ﾟ.: masterlist -> next

MAIN CAST ˚♬ ﾟ.: and their private accounts!

SECONDARY CAST ˚♬ ﾟ.: y/n's group!

SECONDARY CAST ˚♬ ﾟ.: furina's group!

SECONDARY CAST ˚♬ ﾟ.: the president, the vice, and the most popular girl in school!

SUPPORTING CAST ˚♬ ﾟ.: the fabulous magicians and their little brother!

CHAPTER NOTES ˚♬ ﾟ.: welcome to the introductions !! everyone's in their second year of highschool with exceptions for freminet (who's in first year) + chiori, neuvie and wrio, who are in their third year. navia is friends with everyone, and you will see her interacting with both furina's group and y/n's group. wrio has a band, and chiori owns her own small clothing business. while neuvie and wrio aren't assigned to any specific group, you will see them interact with certain characters from both groups. the supporting cast on the other hand has a very special role...

TAGLIST ˚♬ ﾟ.: send an ask/comment to be added!

#sapphires ☾ garden's flowers #♬ sing me a love song dear #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x you #furina x reader #furina x you #gender neutral reader

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adastra121 · 4 months

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Touchstarved x The Amazing Devil

Since I use a bunch of The Amazing Devil songs on my Touchstarved OC playlists, I decided to match them to each of the main LIs. They're mostly the romantic songs, I highlighted the words that made me think of the characters.

Kuras= “Inkpot Gods.” Fighting god for the one you love. Walking a lonely path. The wild feeling of breaking free from the fate you thought you were bound to, the one you believed you deserved. Rewriting tragedy into redemption.

“Oh, what? These, these aren't tears. It's just the rain that wasn't brave enough to fall.”

“And what you see is not the dark, It’s just the gods upturning ink pots 'cause they know what you’ll become.”

"And to those gods, I will speak bluntly 'We've an accord, if you ever touch or harm him Please, rest assured that you might not fear a man But to me, by the end, you'll kneel and plea. 'Cause I'm more than what they all told me to be.'"

"And I wish that I could take their hand, But where I'm going is for me and me alone."

"If I don't make it back from where I've gone, Just know I loved you all along."

Leander= “Fair.” Mostly just vibes. Maybe it’s the gentle guitar, the autumnal sound. A space of solace, so achingly and heartwarmingly normal. The hint of insecurity and bitterness toward the world. The charming awkwardness and humour. I don’t know, this song sounds like Leander's giving you a hug. XD

"And he, he curses at the world For leaving him behind, and he's falling out of touch And they are stronger than he's ever been, he knows."

"And if you asked me to, if you asked me, I would lose it all Like petals in a storm."

"And calm throughout his melodrama They will turn and say, 'Dear heart, it's me, it's me. You don't need to pretend to be someone you're not.'"

"'How unfair, how unfair,' they'll sing As they dance across the darling rooftop wreck."

Vere= “That Unwanted Animal.” It’s either feral in a horny way or horny in a feral way. I don’t know which. Both, maybe? I imagine this is what it’d be like if Vere devoured you.

"And as you grip me like an animal that you're about to spear 'Be good to me,' I whisper."

"I'm the touch you crave, I'm the plans that you made, But fuck all your plans, I'm bored! ‘And can't you hear that scratching?’ I ask your eyes."

"And we fall into each other, the scratching grows so loud Because that unwanted animal wants nothing more than to get out… Oh, and you rip my ribcage open and devour what's truly yours."

"'Be good to me,' I beg of him. And he replies, 'No, no, not I.'"

Ais= “Ruin.” The wreckage after a storm. The strength and the fight inside you that has helped you survive until now being the very thing that destroys what matters to you. Ill-timed jokes. Unspoken regrets. Second chances among the ruin. Also the bird sounds throughout, because, you know. Sparrow. Hehe.

"Our mortar was your laughter And you hurled curses at the land. We didn't talk, we made universes Out of bitten lips and broken hands." This is basically the summary of Ais's scenes in the demo

Mhin= “Drinking Song for the Socially Anxious.” Not belonging, but desperately wanting to. Screaming silence and yearning to be heard. Chance meetings with someone else on the outside looking in. Being outsiders together. Oh, and there’s a cat.

"And I know I won't be long 'Cause I know I don't belong."

"As all my steps too far keep telling me 'This is who you are,' I should go home. I'm not lonely. I just like being on my own."

"Now I'm lying on a bed full of coats Trying desperately to cope. When you open up the door, say something stupid like 'You're lying on some coats,' I say, I know."

#I changed up some of the lyrics to be gender-neutral so they'd fit the mc #raise your hand if you would fight god for kuras — I don't know if we have to in his route #just. I'm prepared to.#I don't know why kuras strikes me as the kind of person to confess his love right before doing something self-sacrificing #“inkpot gods” hits pretty hard with an unnamed!mc actually #touchstarved #touchstarved game #touchstarved kuras #touchstarved leander #touchstarved vere #touchstarved ais #touchstarved mhin #red spring studio #the amazing devil #character themes #sort of #song recommendation #I wanted to post this earlier but Tumblr ate it so #let's try this again

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therebels787 · 2 years

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No Need To Be Shy

Sorry I haven't posted in awhile, I haven't really had the inspiration to write another fic. This one a bit cheesey honestly but I thought it was a cute idea. I also have another one I'm working on that a bit of a lewd on but honestly I don't think that'll be any good. Anywho I hope you all enjoy this one, it was fun to write.

You looked throughout the apartment, your bedroom lay empty and clean, the guest-turned office was slightly a mess but really who cared, as long as no one was in there, you were good, and the living/dining room was also empty. Finally! You could do something you hadn't had the chance to do in such a long time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cloud was bone-tired, he had been on the road for what felt like a month. He had been travelling back and forth between Kalm and Edge all week. No one was making up their damn mind or talking to one another. It absolutely drained the poor man. At least now he's a little better at talking with people, so it wasn't as bad. Compared to how he was a few years ago, it's like he was a different person. Sometimes though, when he's been gone for a bit too long, he wonders what would’ve happened if things had taken another course.

‘I might’ve never met Barret's annoying ass, reunited with Tifa, had the kids, made a new family or met…y/n,' he paused for a moment then shook his head, 'I definitely wouldn’t have been as happy.’ Cloud thought with a small smile. He just really couldn’t wait to see you. All he wanted was to relax with a nice warm meal, cuddle up next to you, watch some corny movies, and just sleep with you in his arms. The thought alone made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Something he never would admit to liking, since he still had a reputation to keep.

He quickly got to your guys' shared apartment, and went to unlock the door. He was picturing you giving him that sweet smile of yours, walking up and embracing him (with a kiss hopefully), and just expressing all those annoying lovable feelings that he only let out for you.

What he wasn’t picturing when he unlocked the door, was to hear music. Naturally, Cloud knew you were really into music, but most of the time you would only listen to it when you had your earbuds in after dinner, when you both cleaned up or when you were working from home on some commissions in the office. This was slightly out of his comfort zone, but nevertheless, he walked through the door and shut it behind him.

The song was not something he thought you would listen to. He knew you for your f/m/g, something he could also enjoy if you had played it around him, but this was a bit more modern. More…he didn't know what, but it sounded really cliche? Anywho, he looked around the living room trying to figure out just what was happening before he noticed a slight bit of movement in the kitchen. Slowly he approached. What he found was quite…interesting to say the least.

There you were dancing, your sweet little heart out to some old pop songs that so many people hated back in the day. You never really were good at dancing but that didn't stop you at this moment. You were twirling, shaking your hips, hell even jumping at some point. None of that mattered to you. You were having the time of your life and Cloud loved it.

He leaned on the doorframe of the kitchen and just watched, honestly if he had a camera he would've been recording but that felt a bit weird. Either way, he loved watching this side of you.

Once the song was done you let out a shaky breath and went over to turn off the music. Once that was taken care of you turned to see your boyfriend giving you a goofy smile.

"...heya." You whispered and gave an awkward wave.

"Hello," he replied with a nod of his head.

"..."

"...so how much did you see there?"

Cloud thought for a moment, "I'm not too sure."

"Ok…"

"You looked like you were having fun," he said as he moved from the doorway towards you.

"Y-yeah, it was pretty fun tbh." You reply as you bow your head, feeling too embarrassed to look at him. Cloud, being Cloud though, was not about to let you keep feeling like that. He lifted your head, and gave you a reassuring smile before dragging you into a tight hug, which you quickly returned.

"Why are you such a dork?"

"Maybe because I'm in love with one?" You muttered back against his shoulder, causing him to laugh.

"And here I was, about to offer to be your dance partner for next time."

That made you gasp, you knew about the whole "Miss Cloud Incident '' from Tifa, so you had just assumed that Cloud wouldn't want to dance. You softly pushed yourself away from him just so you could look up into his eyes, which honestly you could just get lost in for hours on end (because you have, too many times now to count), and blinked a few times before asking-

"Really? You would dance with me?"

Cloud wasn't expecting you to sound so surprised.

"Of course," he started to feel a bit flustered with the way you were looking at him. It was the same face you made when he confessed way back when.

You looked like someone that was told their whole life that they could finally have the one thing they were never even allowed to look at, let alone think of. That face always made him feel like he was worth something, that you made him worth something, (he knew that wasn't how it works but still).

"I'd do anything for you, y/n." He said before capturing your lips in a sweet, gentle kiss. You both stayed like that for a few seconds before pulling away. You relaxed a little more and placed your head on his chest as he held you. "Just don't expect me to do any crazy dance moves ok?" He said.

"Of course babe." You laughed, causing Cloud to think for a moment.

"..."

"...Tifa told you, didn't she?"

"Yup."

Cloud quickly regretted this agreement.

#cloud strife #cloud strife x reader #cloud x reader #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy cloud #fluff #gender neutral reader #reader insert #x reader #ffvii cloud x reader #ff7 cloud x reader #happens during Advent Children cause i love older Cloud #like seriously he's just such a dork #poor cloud #mentions miss cloud #also the song is baby cause that is bop and you cant tell me otherwise #baby by justin bieber specific

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megumifushigurooo · 5 months

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boyfriend!mingi x genderneutral!reader

*disclaimer: this is my first tumblr story, bare with me here 💔*

Mingi was your famous boyfriend of 3 years. He was an energetic person, always making sure you felt loved.

He ran up to you before he went on tour, hugging you super tightly and burying his face into the crook of your neck. On day's like these, he'd miss you incredibly since he'd be gone for so long. Planting kisses all over your face and whining like a child.

On tour, he called you so frequently whenever he could, and would tell you all about what happened and everything he saw and experienced. Watching his eyes light up as he talked to you about these special things to you, you were in a trance. He was so beautiful.

But what you never told him, was that you actually planned a week before his tour actually began, and got tickets to one of his concerts.

Mingi and all other members did their part in the show, every movement and vocal Mingi made was so dazzling. He was so flexible, his voice smooth as honey. How did you ever get so lucky?

After performance, while he was resting in a deep trance, calling your phone then hearing it ring behind him.

He called out your name, getting up to his feet and hugging you tightly, asking you lots of questions like "Did you like it?" "Did I do good?" "Aren't I handsome?" Etc, etc.

After his glamorous tour, he finally went back home and collapsed onto his bed, practically crushing you from how tightly he hugged you and kissed your face.

His face bright red, he muttered out;

"I love you."

#mingi x you #ateez mingi #song mingi #song #mingi #mingi x y/n #mingi x reader #gender neutral reader #boyfriend #ateez #ateez fanfic #mingi fanfic #i love you

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keulixeutin · 2 years

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All I Know Are Love Songs

a/n: got love songs - bonus by kaash paige on repeat and it inspired this. tried a different approach to narration style and i definitely don’t think i did what i set out to do, but i hope u enjoy it anyways <3

summary: aizawa apologizes for missing the release of your first album. aizawa x fem!reader.

cw: gender neutral pronouns used, but fem!reader in mind while writing. aizawa-centric. 18+. suggestive. established relationship. reader is a musician. talks of food; mentions of guilt, shame, insecurity (on Aizawa’s end); fluffiness; showing love through action with an attempt at words.

word count: 1,676.

These days, Aizawa has been listening to love songs. Only love songs, and all kinds of them. From an older century—Frank Sinatra, Adele, Miki Matsubara—to this era—Idla, Jack Wan, Renho Nakamura—to random bits he makes up on the spot, some sweet amalgamation of all his favorite notes.

He whistles absentmindedly under his breath while reviewing the grades given to him by the other teachers at the end of the week. He hums faintly while patrolling the streets at 3 AM, the late night illuminated by romantic stars and silver light. He sings softly while he does laundry and dishes, lips easily curling around each sentimental sound as though he were a lovesick old man.

Embarrassingly enough, despite the love you’ve cultivated in his chest, he doesn’t realize that your album had dropped that day until he walks into his homeroom class in the morning. He overhears Jirou talking to Kaminari about the genius way you had organized the tracks on your album, and Aizawa freezes at the podium, realizing that the midnight release date was that midnight.

He thinks back to last night. After his patrol, he had returned to your apartment, eyes heavy with sleep and body weighed with the need to bury himself in bedsheets that smelled of your shampoo and perfume. He had seen the light glowing from underneath the door of your at-home studio, but he had thought that you were simply revising your songs, not that you were awake for the release.

Fuck. He’s an idiot.

To say that guilt has the biggest chokehold on his windpipe all day would be an understatement.

No one understands Aizawa’s foul mood, and he’s not interested in bringing up his immense oversight. He spends every moment reading articles and reviews and tweets about your album. He listens to Jirou break down the dreaminess of the tracks, analyze the poetry techniques interwoven with your songwriting, and your use of silence to build emotions. His chest swells with pride, even as his shoulder sink with shame.

He listens to the songs on repeat in between classes, comparing the final versions to the various iterations he’s heard the past eight months. He adores the entire album, but his favorites are the first, the fifth, and the eighth tracks. There’s something about those three that tug at his heart, make him think—or hope, or wonder—about whether or not they were written about him. It’s a selfish thought, but if they weren’t, then you did a stunning job of putting into words the jittery and flushed feelings he has towards you.

Despite how much Aizawa loves your album, he refrains from texting you. He refuses to start any new conversations until he’s properly apologized, and he won’t apologize over the phone because it’s cowardly, so it’s quiet in your chat. Even Hizashi recognizes that Aizawa needs space after seeing him slump into his chair, trying to merge together with the wood to cease existing while he listens to your music still.

Even though he doesn’t text you, Aizawa still hopes you’d text him.

You don’t, of course. Obviously, you’re extremely busy, considering your album just exploded onto the scene to high praise. Not only that, but, with your work ethic and your passion for music, he wouldn’t be surprised if you were already locked in the studio, working on new songs. It’s less likely that you’re avoiding him out of anger, though.

You’re rarely mad. Whether he arrives to reservations late, forgets special occasions, or cancels last minute, you’ve never once yelled. He doesn’t know if it’s because you give him such grace due to his occupation, or because you have such low expectations of him. He’s too scared to ask, terrified that, if he brings it up, he’ll break whatever spell has made you stay with him despite his many, many, shortcomings.

After UA lets out, Aizawa sits through a teachers’ meeting with an anxious shaking of his leg. He doesn’t have patrol that night (and he plans on calling off patrol for the next few nights to make it up to you), so he just needs to get through this one last thing.

When they’re finally done, Aizawa’s the first out of his chair. Once he rounds the corner, he breaks into a sprint, rushing off to the nearest store to buy fifteen copies of your album. Then, he buys the biggest bouquet of flowers he can find—a beautiful arrangement of red and orange roses, interspersed with long green leaves—and gets take-out from the Thai place you love on the other side of town.

When he finally makes it back to your apartment, he spends ten minutes standing outside the door, gathering his thoughts and his hammering heart.

He’s nervous. He doesn’t think you’ll be mad, but he wants you to be. He wants you to yell, to call him out for his fuck-ups, to tell him you expect more, that you deserve more. It’s worse, sometimes, having you smiling sweetly at him in understanding. It makes him feel like he’s taking advantage of your big heart; it makes him feel like you know he’s not good enough for you, but you keep making concessions every time he doesn’t meet the simplest of boyfriend requirements.

Holding in a big and heavy sigh, Aizawa unlocks the door and enters as you step into the living room, hair wet from having just finished a shower.

There’s an amused expression on your face as you take in the big bouquet, as heavy as the take-out bag in his other hand.

“I’m sorry,” he says abruptly.

You tilt your head, eyeing him closely. “It’s okay, Shouta—”

“It’s not.” He clears his throat, eyes darting away from you to stare briefly at a chipped corner before he forces them back. He needs to do this right, he thinks, scolding himself. “Your album—I… Your album’s great. I—I wish I had been there to celebrate the midnight release with you. I’m sorry that I wasn’t.”

“I—care about you,” he continues. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel otherwise—or if you feel like you’re not a priority to me. You are.” His mouth is dry; the hammering heart that he had collected outside the apartment comes back in full force. “I’ll do better at making sure I show it.”

You smile gently at him, but he can see a dewiness glaze over your warm eyes, and the sight of it makes him want to kneel on the floor at your feet.

“I appreciate it, Shouta,” you say finally.

Aizawa hands you the flowers, watching you carefully as you smell the roses. You don’t cry; you don’t scream. You simply murmur about how beautiful they are and how thankful you are for having grabbed the vase off the table from your cousin’s wedding four months ago.

He doesn’t release the breath in his chest. He’s nervous still, afraid that what he’s done isn’t enough. He can do more, he thinks; he’s just not sure what else. You deserve the whole world, yet here he is, only able to carve out a little bit of roses and greenery for you.

As you rearrange the flowers in the vase, making sure they all fit, Aizawa says, “I took off this weekend. Let’s go somewhere, spend the weekend together to celebrate.”

“All mine for the weekend,” you remark playfully.

“All yours forever,” he says.

If you’ll have me, he thinks.

You don’t answer, but he notes the pink on your cheeks and let himself relax a bit (just a bit).

“You bought dinner?”

Your question reminds him that he needs to set out the food.

“Yeah, from the Thai place,” he replies. He puts the bag down on the floor and pulls out the many food boxes; he lays out a full take-out feast on your wooden coffee table.

You shake your head as you take a seat beside him, immediately recognizing the origin. “Shouta,” you began, your voice already chastising him. “That place is an hour away, and this is a meal for eight people. You really need to stop punishing yourself.”

“I felt shitty all day,” he mutters, making you a plate. “I even put it in my phone and forgot.”

You reach out to squeeze his knee. “You need to know when enough’s enough.”

He doesn’t respond. You may be that forgiving, but he isn’t. He focuses on filling your plate with curried rice, crab wontons, and seared green beans; he’s tempted to make you a second plate with the rest of the food that doesn’t fit. He gives it to you, not getting food for himself until he sees that you’re satisfied with the first few bites.

“It’s good,” you sigh, pleased, and he lets himself relax a little more. As he fills up his own plate, you suddenly ask, “What’s in that other bag? Near your foot?”

He glances down and flushes. “I—they’re your albums.”

“Albums?” You emphasize the s. “I only released one album.”

“I bought—multiple copies.”

A grin starts growing on your face. “How many?”

He coughs. His stomach flips. “…Fifteen.”

You laugh immediately. “Shouta, you are so in love with me.” It’s said teasingly, a running joke between the two of you due to the sharp contrast between the harshness he shows to others and the softness he shows to you.

But nothing is truer, he thinks.

“I am.”

—And he says it without stuttering or stammering, without his usual pause or air of nonchalance. He says it as though there was no other option, as though there was nothing else he could be in a world where you existed.

You beam, cheeks a sweet rosy color, and then you lean forward to kiss him.

Later that night, he’s in between your legs, having you sing breathily into the night. He still hears the melody of you—a saccharine blend of moans and pleas—weeks later, another love song he can’t get out of his head.