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shotorozu · 3 years

Note

BABE , i saw a hc ( i think it was urs) where the boys’s s/o was really fashionable, ( as somebody that’s gone viral on pinterest a little too many times ) I WAS WONDERING , what if you did a todobakudeku ( separately please omg) with somebody that’s like the emma chamberlain of fashion and they own everybody’s pinterest boards and stuff AHAHA IDK , the amount of times somebody has said ‘ wait ur that one pinterest girl right?? ‘ ANYWHAHEEIE I LOVE YOU N HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!! 💗💗

pinterest famous s/o

character(s) : midoriya izuku, bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] afab! reader, they/them pronouns (at the request of anon) strong quirk hinted; not specific

headcanon type : fluff, crack-ish (x reader)

note(s) : thank you anon!! so ok, i still used they/them pronouns even though the reader is afab (again at the request of anon) and whdjwkd sorry for the inactivity :,) also im gonna post more later so— sorry for the delay

»»————-　♡　————-««

midoriya izuku

when middle school midoriya finally got a phone, he downloaded pinterest for the sole purpose of looking at screencaps of heroes

but then, he hasn’t touched it a few months, because he’s been training with all might

then, when he finally had enough free time again— he decided to go on pinterest

but instead of finding any heroes he could look at, he found the prettiest human being he has ever seen in his entire life 💀

that person was a different type of beauty, y’know— they weren’t just fashionable, but their beauty was,,

timeless? that’s how he’d describe it. yeah. that person lived in his head rent free for a while

sadly, he feels like you’re that person he sees once in his life, and never again 😔　which isn’t the case

when he finally meets you, midoriya realizes that you look VERY familiar— someone on pinterest, that he unfortunately, didn’t know the name of

but then wait! he realizes that you’re that person. that one person that blew up on pinterest, and ended up in all of the fashion boards.

okay, you’ve been recognized a few times in the past, just because you were pinterest famous— but you didn’t expect him to recognize you

“wait,, you know me?” you asked him when you saw the realization sink in

and you were honestly,, flattered when he went on a tangent on how you were on all of the pinterest boards, and how your sense of fashion was timeless

but you know what’s the best thing of it all? when izuku developed a crush on you (and not because he thought you were just an attractive face)

it was very easy to find pictures of you online! he says it’s for research but,, he tends to look at them for a long time

probably has 3-4 pages dedicated to your hero costume— since fashion icon = fashionable, yet a very practical hero costume!

does he get jealous whenever people fawn over your looks, or whenever he sees comments in pinterest comment sections just asking for your socials in such desperation?

hmm,, yes? he does occasionally feel like someone like you, should be with someone as equally beautiful as you

he thought he was always plain looking, but you wholeheartedly disagree! in fact, you fell in love with his ability to pay attention to detail.

to the random creeps in the comments section, he just contacts the uploader and asks them to delete any malicious comments and it works 100% of them time.

on the brighter side, he helps a lot with taking your pictures (if you ask him to) and sometimes! he’ll even appear in them

izuku will always be your #1 fan!

bakugou katsuki

at first, you’d be like “katsuki owning pinterest? naaah.” but! i think he would

being an all might fan, he liked looking at all might screen caps— and while katsuki would be on the discreet side, he’d find himself looking at them whenever he has extra minutes to burn

not to mention, the cooking recipes on there aren’t the worst, so he doesn’t just use pinterest to look at screen caps of heroes doing their work

and, how could he forget that you’ve been bugging him to search for rare screen caps? he says that it’s useless— but he finds himself digging for you anyway,

which is whyyy

he finds an entirely different rabbit hole, and it’s way past 10pm, 3 more minutes wouldn’t wound him.

the blond doesn’t know how he even stumbled on.. this side of pinterest. the one that kind of hurts his eyes.

the more well known side of pinterest, that is covered in pictures of fashion boards, and the standard pretty person.

the ‘aesthetic’ side, kaminari calls it— it makes bakugou cringe, and he was just about to refresh his page

when he spots something familiar, it’s you‼️ well it wasn’t just you but, you were dressed in something,, nice.

like sure! you’re attractive. but that’s not why he’s dating you, there’s a lot of reasons as to why

but, he’s baffled. seeing you in a different light, and in such nice clothing, what more, when he sees that you’re actually everywhere. he hasn’t seen this much of you and your attractive ass before

katsuki told himself that he was going to sleep a few minutes ago, but now? he’s left admiring all of your pictures.

how did he not know that his s/o’s pinterest famous? you’re practically in every single board!

he confronts you the next day in an oddly weird manner, “you didn’t tell me you were famous on that stupid pinterest app.”

you’re sheepish, “welll, i didn’t know that you were going to stumble on that side of pinterest!”

he doesn’t say anything, and really! it looks like he doesn’t care about the newest discovery of his s/o

but he shows his feelings in his own way.

like, how katsuki insists that he finds a new outfit that you’d absolutely love— one that’ll fit with your aesthetic

and that he insists that he does your graphic liner, because you’re going to ‘poke your eyes out’

makes an entirely different account to reply to those simps and creeps in the comment section, sort of like

random pinterest user : “the things i’ll do to be crushed by them 💦”

pinterestuser461903 : “go touch some fucking grass.”

also would’ve commented “your art sucks” at the poorly done drawings of you in the comments, but knows you appreciated the art— so he doesn’t

(still thinks the fanart doesn’t do you enough justice)

he’ll be super proud when someone notices you in person like “yeah that’s fucking right, but too bad they’re super attractive and way out of your league.”

in short, it looks like katsuki doesn’t care at all about your pinterest famous life, but he’s your #1 supporter

todoroki shouto

i am certain for this one— he doesn’t have pinterest

well, he didn’t have pinterest, until midoriya convinced him to create an account, but it kinda just ended at that

but the person that actually made him use pinterest was sero, because he kept bugging him to give it a try

todoroki finds the app very practical— he can find screen caps of heroes in action, and he can also find oddly helpful tips in cooking (and in anything)

but sero was like “todoroki, what about the aesthetic value??” and todoroki didn’t really get that part to be honest 💀

todoroki, being clueless didn’t know what to search for— so sero being the wonderful friend he is, helped him search for it

and that’s when it happened. it didn’t take that long, but they eventually found an entire section just full of pictures of you; their classmate and crush

“is that Y/N?” mina notices what they’re looking at, and she observes the picture “oh wow— it is her! no wonder why she looked familiar.”

“it’s impressive! our classmate is pinterest famous!” they continue to look at every single post in each board, and todoroki’s left to observe in silence

he has definitely taken a liking to you, even if he didn’t realize it at first— he liked you because of your hard work when it came to training, personality and patience, not because of your looks

obviously, todoroki thinks that you look good in anything, trashbag style or not. but seeing you in this light was interesting.

so after training, todoroki would spent a good portion of his time scavenging for more pictures— not because he was obsessed or anything

but because,, he really liked your pictures. maybe it was because without you in those pictures, it would feel incomplete

he didn’t know how to approach you after this discovery, which is why he’s glad that you approached him first

“todoroki! what are you looking at?” you took a peak at his screen, and you’re baffled to see yourself, and that very famous picture of you

he’s quiet for a second when he realizes that you’ve caught him staring at your pictures, but he explains calmly, “sero accidentally discovered your pictures,, and i just wanted to take a peak at them, if it was okay,,”

and he’s relieved— well, you’re also relieved. you didn’t know how your crush would react if he ever saw those pictures, but your heart skipped a beat knowing that he enjoyed looking at them

“it’s alright todoroki,” you smile, honestly over the moon as you spoke “i’m really glad that you like them.”

sometimes you’d get shy whenever he’d go on pinterest just to look at your pictures, “todoroki, not that one! that one was really old,,” is what you’d say whenever he’d look at your older photos but he’d still look at them anyway 💀

at first, todoroki helped you in his own subtle way. since he’s quite the fashion icon— he’d recommend you clothes to wear for future pictures

he eventually confessed— and it was because you were talking to him while he was really tired, and he blurted out that he really, really liked you and you almost passed away because of his words

so yeah— it was a case of secretly admiring their beautiful best friend to lovers scenario

he’d go the full mile when it came to taking your pictures. he’d check the weather forecast just in case if it was going to rain for that date, and impromptu picnic photoshoot

that boyfriend that has pictures of you in his photo gallery, and has a backstory for each photo if anyone were to ask

also that boyfriend that knows how to take pictures, will probably even lay down to take them, even if you didn’t kindly ask him to

when you asked him to join the picture, he didn’t really know how to— but he made it work! and the both of you guys went viral

but this isn’t all one sided, no— whenever you guys would cuddle, shouto would simply stare at you with HEARTS in his eyes,

and even before he leans in for a kiss, he’ll stare at you with so much love in his eyes, while he traces his thumb across your cheekbones. man’s in love— you’re gorgeous.

he knows that you know that he’s not with you because of any ulterior motive, you both have mutual trust in each other— so it’s not something you guys will bother on questioning because you’re both hot asf lets be real

he’s not uncomfortable whenever people gawk at you in public— i mean, you two get stares on the regular. and how could they not stare at you? you’re very attractive, and he’s glad that people recognize that

but he’ll get protective if they’ll try to be a threat to your loving relationship with him, he won’t be afraid to be blunt

regarding the comments on each pinterest post— he hates it when people say things out of the line

always tries to hide them from you so you don’t feel bothered by them, but if you knew about them— he’ll be sad :,(

but he’ll end up mass reporting those nasty comments— and they always get taken down, because of the shouto todoroki luck

in short? man’s whipped, and the both of you guys are SO attractive together— what more if people knew about the om chemistry?

really— you being pinterest famous was just a nice plus, he fell in love with you for you

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

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warmau · 3 years

Text

not knowing what to say isn't a foreign feeling to you, yet when you come face to face with ten outside his apartment on this summer morning, you are almost too petrified to even string a sentence together

he's really just........leaving

ten shines a big smile and from the open door you hear kun's exasperated voice asking why in the world ten is packing up his entire existence for a program that's going to last two months

"you look nervous"

ten jokes first, running a hand through his dark hair which he's spent the colder months growing out

"im the one going to a different country and yet you look like you might turn green"

his laughter tickles you and you force yourself out of the weird, frozen feeling, for his sake

"im not nervous - it's just this is our first summer apart since what, highschool?"

ten leans against the frame of his door and lets kun scuttle past him with a scowl

yangyang and hendery bounce after him with ten's insane amount of luggage

"yeah but it's two months, not two decades. plus....you know how much ive always wanted to do this."

right. and here you are being selfish.

"of course, i mean it's literally the birthplace of ballet."

"technically that's italy, but france is a close second."

"i hate you"

ten pulls you into his arms before you register that this is your goodbye hug

"i'll miss you too."

kun drives everyone to the airport, he complains and cries the most.

sicheng gives you a knowing look when ten takes your wrist in his hand and tucks your arm between his.

you ignore the look, and focus on ten. on him. and then - when the switchboard pops up his flight info - he gives a bubbly and excited

"ive gotta go!"

and then summer starts, just as he's gone

"so when are you going to tell him you're in love with him."

sicheng brings the big gulp he stole from hendery up to his lips and you keep your eyes closed behind your sunglasses

"sorry, yukhei's not my type."

"you know im not talking about yukhei."

you dig your fingers into the sand beside your towel, the beach is already so noisy so you pretend you don't hear sicheng, but you still feel him looking.

you guess a part of it is true, you love ten. who doesn't?

is that the core of the issue then, that ten is so available and loveable and charming, that it makes him also unattainable?

or at least, unattainable to you.

you hear your phone buzz inside your bag and sicheng is being dragged into the water by the rowdy rest of your friend group

it could be a text from ten?

your mind excites, but you put out that fire

it's probably just spam.

ten does text and even video call the first two or so weeks while he's away

you get blurry photos of food at cafes and the eiffel tower, random fancy looking dogs being walked on the small, cramped streets

ten's connection is kind of bad - but he still gleams through the fuzzy facetime camera as he shows you around the room the dance academy has provided

pangs of his happiness and excitement seep into you

and then there's the first sign of worry comes knocking and twirling through his door

a group of other dancers, all beautiful and strong, asking ten - from the limited amount of french you catch - if he's done, they're waiting for him to go to a show with them

ten gives you a scattered, quick goodbye. he says he'll video call again.

all you get is an update text almost five days later that has no pictures attached just a;

im ok - by the way i totally miss eating hot chips with you at midnight. ive had like a banana smoothie and that's it.

sicheng and kun are the first to pick up on the shift, you are quietly withdrawing to yourself

nothing makes you laugh

ten doesn't reply to your question about what the paris metro looks like, actually he doesn't even read it

kun nearly tugs hendery's ear red when he shares a snap story of ten pressed cheek to cheek with his new dancer friends in front of the louvre when you're in the same room

the thing is you are not jealous of any of them.

you don't go around trying to find their facebooks, clicking on their instagram profiles, comparing you and them.

you are just sad to your bones that they will understand ten in such a way that no matter how long you two have been friends

you will never, truly know

"you're his best friend"

sicheng reasons on the phone as you stare up at the wall above your desk, littered in old pictures and clippings and your gaze catches on the ticket stub from ten's first-ever solo dance performance

it had been a talent show in highschool.

it had been the first time you saw ten perform outside the corner of his cramped bedroom or the glimpse you caught meeting up with him outside the dance academy

he's in paris, he's with people who love it so much more than i do - they love dancing like he loves dancing.

i cannot understand that.

"i think you were right sicheng."

"im always right."

i do love him. when am i going to tell him?

you hang up after sicheng has his i told you so moment and stare at your screen

a notification flashes across the screen and it's a text from ten

the trains here are blue. i miss you.

you want to reply right away, so you open the message and start typing

i miss you too. actually, i think i finally understand why people who are in love are so hurt when they're suddenly left without their other half and ten you are my o-

you delete the sentence and make a face

nice. i miss you too.

you don't send it - or at least you forget to because your fingers are shaking and you exit out of the messaging app before checking

abandoning your phone, you turn on your side and stretch your hand out to reach the edge of the bed

there's enough space between you and it for someone to fit, so you remember the countless times ten has laid there

smiling and laughing and tickling your face with his sleeping breath

you can't even recall a conversation because there have been hundreds

suddenly you feel a warmth creep up your skin

hundreds of opportunities to tell him - and each time i chose to be a coward.

"you should write him a letter."

"this isn't a movie, what - you think im going to write a letter and he'll jump on the first plane from france to come to my side?"

sicheng cocks an eyebrow as if to say it is a possibility

"no. im not writing a letter. i'll suck it up and confess when he comes back."

you somehow end up writing a letter.

maybe because you really do want to just send a long text spilling your mushy, soft, pink feelings

but you know that's just not what ten deserves

he deserves (and you do too, but you won't admit this) a face to face confession

so you start retelling the moments that flutter up in your heart whenever you think about him

how he makes the room brighter when he's in it, how he dances with every bone, joint, muscle in his body - how he approaches it with no inhibition and true devotion that paints its way across his face when he practices, how he fits perfectly into the hole that grows more massive every day you don't see him

standing there across the hall - coffee in hand, gym bag with his scuffed dance shoes

by the time you're finished - the letter is longer than you imagine. there are parts crossed and scribbled out, repetitive thoughts, and stupid little comments and metaphors that compare ten to flowers or clouds or anything else pretty in nature

you cringe at yourself, but you do feel better

it could be your outline for when the time to actually tell him comes.

you shove the papers into an envelope, write ten's name and the address of his parisian dance academy just for the irony

and then make the mistake of letting it sit on your desk

in a matter of days, it has been swallowed by a bunch of other papers and trinkets

and when you're rushing around your room trying to get ready for another adventure to the beach - sicheng clinks the lollipop against his teeth and fishes it out - curious at the stamp

"do you want me to mail this?"

he asks and you're trying to find those sunglasses you literally just bought and grumble that sure, whatever - you'll meet him out by kun's car.

halfway to the beach, you turn in horror from the passenger seat to look at sicheng in the back

your eyes like saucers and a tremor in a voice

"wait. what did you ask me back in my room?"

sicheng's big smile is red from the candy, "your letter to ten."

and there comes the second pang of dread and worry that takes the overwhelming shape of your summer

oh my god - oh my god - maybe the letter won't even make it. i mean it's a letter to france....it'll take at least a month to get there. wait - it probably didn't even have a stamp on it. oh god maybe the address was totally off and some poor stranger is about to be subjected to my very incoherent feelings.....

every day you look at your phone and there's no texts or emails or anything from ten

his social media has gone quiet too

you throw your dignity down a well and ask all your friends if they've heard from him and they all scratch their heads and say no, it's been maybe a week since they did

your stress then turns from your love letter to a possibility that ten is in trouble

he kind of thrives from attention so it is very weird that he's so off-grid

you decide finally, on the day that it's been exactly a month and one day since he was gone, to call

you hover over the facetime button - should i text him first?

with a yelp, you nearly drop and crack your screen when ten's name flashes across the screen

you settle your breathing and tell yourself he hasn't gotten the letter, there's no way - since when has snail mail been efficient?

you answer and are about to ask what's up when ten waves something into the camera

"i got your letter."

maybe you go into rigor. because ten's eyebrows knit and he asks if your connection is ok, you aren't saying anything

you don't know if it's just because you miss him so much that you're able to drag yourself back into consciousness or because you are curious, in the depths of your mind, what his reaction will be

"o-oh. right- i-"

ten frowns and you think it's coming. the rejection is coming.

"is that why you didn't answer my text? you sent the letter instead?"

"your text?"

"yeah, i said i missed you and you read it and never responded."

a peek of a smile stretches on his pretty, bare face

"i never thought you were so romantic to send a letter."

something burns on your skin but you just try to make sure your hand holding the phone doesn't shake

"im not - i just, it was dumb sicheng said i should write it because - i don't know. he's the romantic, blame him."

"you're the one that said i could make a shy tulip open its petals with my laughter."

"oh god"

that smile turns into a grin

"and that my dancing manages to cast a spell on you."

you hide your expression by turning your face

"are you going to re-read the whole thing to me?"

"should i, you're so poetic."

"don't make fun of me."

your voice is serious this time, small and huddled, because you mean it

worse than being told he doesn't feel the same is to be ridiculed for holding him in your heart like this for so long

"im not making fun of you, the letter is beautiful."

you still can't look at him, it's so ten to be kind before he's cruel

"i could never write something like that - so i thought i would just call you and say it."

you don't need to love song yourself into telling me you just see me as a friend

"i love you."

your head whips back so fast your phone drops and you curse and ten can't help but laugh

"sorry, sorry -what did you say?"

he runs a hand through his dark hair, the lighting in his room is dim and illuminates him perfectly

a large white t-shirt engulfs his slender shoulders as he sits up against the wall

"i love you. i know it's corny to confess over facetime, but im guessing it's more forgivable than text?"

a bubble bursts in your stomach and it makes you feel lightheaded and inhumanely blissful all at once

"i love you too."

"more then friends right, because your letter had this part about kissing im very interested in."

you bite back your lip and nod, both embarrassed that he'd bring that part up too but also seeing ten - your close friend, your secret love - talk about kissing you

makes some of the neurons in your body go haywire

"good, i seriously was scared you might have been pranking me with thi-"

"i would never. im not hendery."

"oh how are they, ive been super busy with the practice for a review so i haven't talked to anyone."

another thing you love about him, he keeps everyone in. he leaves none of his friends behind. he pretends like he couldn't have a care in the world, but he cares more than anyone else.

"he's ok, he almost crashed kun's car yesterday."

ten shrugs, "expected."

and like that - everything is still somehow the same. there is no awkward phase after you've talked about your feelings for each other at all.

because your love doesn't come as a one hit punch because ten is beautiful, although he is to an unfair degree

it comes from the experience of being around him. having so much of him. maybe even getting a little addicted.

you do talk more on the phone, no more long pauses even though ten's practices get more grueling and you tell him to take his time to rest

but he's sweaty on the practice room floor - texting you - telling you everything is sore but the thought of seeing you soon makes it all better

it's three days before ten is scheduled to fly back that he has his review and you are biting your fingernails waiting for him to tell you about it

when you get a youtube link at like three in the morning - you click it and someone has recorded ten's performance

somehow, he looks more graceful than you've ever seen him

a new text comes in when it's almost done

'i think i did well - can i get a reward?'

'you'll get a really good one when you're home'

he sends a winking emoji and you can't fall asleep after because you wonder what he's expecting, you'd meant a kiss - had he meant more?

you wouldn't mind that at all.

xiaojun is being pulled away from the conveyer belt by kun and hendery is asking sicheng for a sip of his starbucks as you all wait for ten's plane to land in the airport lobby

you two have not told anyone - mostly because you know there will be endless questions you won't have answers too and sicheng might literally never let you live it down

so you wait for ten to be here so you can suffer together

you see the gates from his flight open and sicheng mutters that you look like you're going to pop like a goddamn balloon

for once in your life, you don't snide back at him, folding your hands in front of you and tippy-toeing to see over the crowd

and then, like seeing him for the first time all the years ago when you first met, ten comes out

hendery and xiaojun try to go for a running jump, but the older members hold them back because everyone can sense whats coming

you dash toward him and ten doesn't stay still either - you two collide so hard it almost hurts, but you don't care at all

ten's duffel bag falls over his shoulder and your hands are wrapped around his neck before he can even say your name

it's a first kiss that couldn't be more characteristically fit for you

sweet, big smiles tasted on lips, and interrupted by none other than your group of friends gasping in a symphony of shock

except for sicheng - he knew

ten tastes like you imagine he would taste, maybe because in smaller ways you've already had doses of the sunshine that radiates off him before

he keeps his hands wrapped around your waist as he looks down into your eyes

"mon amour"

"is that really all you learned in france?"

"ummm yeah, i don't know how to say let's get out of here and back to my place even though im pretty sure someone said that to me at some point."

you pout, "don't try to make me jealous."

"never!"

ten chuckles as you press your face into his neck and hug him close

the only way you get pulled apart is because someone (kun) reminds you all you're still at the PUBLIC airport

the drive back is a frenzy and everyone wants to know everything and not about just you two - because you're "two" now - but about france and traveling and ten's dancing

like you'd sensed - nothing has really changed

just this time, your fingers are locked in tens. and the warmth you longed for in silence is suddenly all out in the open.

funnily enough, you and ten don't ever write letters to each other again.

ten just doesn't like writing - it takes too much sitting down

and you are horrified everytime he fishes your love confession out of the memory box and dangles it above your head as leverage

it's how he convinced you into adopting the first cat. now you two have three.

so when you and him are deciding the best way to let all your friends know about your upcoming event you cross out mailed invitations

"we can make an email list."

your legs are thrown over his thighs on the sofa and he's resting the laptop on you them

"let's just make an instagram post: wedding in our backyard on thursday - you're invited."

ten pinches his nose

"we are not having a backyard wedding. we could not fit everyone in my dance company into it anyway."

you play with your engagement band and sigh

"fine, fine. what about.....we just call everyone and tell them. if we call kun right now he'll let all of the world know by the end of the week."

ten agrees with a hum, but then starts typing and you lean over to see

"bulk wedding invites? you're giving in?"

he closes the laptop and tosses it to the side, easily and gently pushing you down onto your back to hover over you with a small content sound

"i am. but we don't even have to write the letters - some company will do it for us."

his lips are inches from yours and all of a sudden you're young again - waiting to kiss him for the first time at that airport

"you know we'll still have to write vows right."

he is about to kiss you, he's so close and your eyes are closing

"i'll just read your letter outl-"

"TEN NO!"

he laughs, laughs until he finally does kiss you and then laughs again when he pulls back - the overflowing amount of love that exists in that moment is potent

you tell him to get over that old thing, but he shakes his head

"never, when again in all the lives i live is someone going to say i could make a shy tulip open its petals with my laughter?"

#i know his bday was in february please im still working through them cries #ten au #ten imagines #ten scenarios #nct au #nct imagines #nct scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv au #wayv scenarios #sfw #nostolgic!au #ten #member: ten #im sicheng through all this

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4dtk · 3 years

Text

based on a lil discussion with me and @moonboohoo btw this is a little ooc since sukuna is a cat lol. enjoy!

[yuji is typing...]

oh my godddd you're ordering food? i want food too wtf

anyway. i hear u about your problem. why not just ask the first person you see when you get back home?

[(y/n) is typing...]

you want me to ask my cat??????

[yuji is typing...]

oh no not the cat, that feline is the devil himself im sure

the person delivering your food, ask them!!! maybe they'd be willing to give you a chance

[(y/n) is typing...]

hey!!!! :( dont be mean to sukuna :((

your maine coon curls up against you as you flop down on the couch with phone in hand, the other switching on the television with not much thought. your hand naturally strokes the cat's fur, jumping channels from one to the next in boredom as you wait for the delivery.

sukuna's purring carry on even when the doorbell is rung, accepting the food with a smile and careful hands. when you don't return, however, the cat perks up in curiosity, seeing the familiar twirl of your hair around your fingers as you engage in a conversation with the person at your door.

"so... is tomorrow okay?" you ask, tired of waiting for the perfect partner to come and sweep you off your feet. the other goes to answer, but sukuna interrupts before they can, hissing with the swishing of his bushy tail. it's as if he was a human himself, staring down at the delivery person despite the massive height difference.

"ah, s..sorry," you rush to place the food down, picking up the majestic cat into your arms to cradle him, "my cat's pretty aggressive to strangers."

"we could always reschedule it?" they say, shrugging their shoulders, "doesn't look like your cat wants me in the house if i were to come over tomorrow."

you smile apologetically, "'m sorry again."

they wave a hand, both in goodbye and dismissal of your apology for such a trivial thing.

the cat descends from your arms gracefully, walking off like he hadn't just cost you a future partner. as sukuna prances off, you roll your eyes at his dramatics, reaching for the food before finally settling down in front of the television again. at least now you had a purpose of going channel surfing.

it wasn't a very productive day, clocking out at an early 11pm to get ready for tomorrow. scrolling through social media was your favourite pastime, slotting in a bit of 'me' time before succumbing to sleep with sukuna snuggled up against your side.

the next morning wasn't merciful; with its bright rays shining through the window and the annoying construction going on from across the street, you could almost feel your annoyance levels rising before you got the morning routine.

"she wanted to invite them into the house? thank god i swooped in before they could agree. what right do they have to hang with (y/n)?"

what's worse is there was murmuring just at the foot of your bed, the pacing of their footsteps deemed too loud by your groggy, grumpy self.

wait.

"who's there?!" your shout catches the attention of the male, hand pointing at the owner of the noisy-ass footsteps with fear.

his messy pink hair was enough to catch your attention, but the tattoos littered across his arms and face was enough to make you gasp. you keep your mouth shut when he looks you over with red eyes, meeting yours with a tilt of his head. it's a sukuna habit, even when he's a human.

"who... are you?"

"seriously?" he asks unimpressed, crossing his arms over his exposed chest.

"sukuna!" you jolt in surprise at your missing cat, "sukuna?"

there's genuine concern and confusion when you repeat his name for the third time, coming to terms that he might really be in front of you.

"s...ukuna?" you whisper in caution, inching towards him as he keeps his eyebrow raised at your clueless state. tracing your hand across his carefully drawn tattoos was the first thing you did before moving on to his unkempt pink hair and mouth, where he still possessed his canine teeth.

he recoils as part of instinct, an uncharacteristic blush appearing on his face.

you overlook his behaviour but instead groan, falling back into the bed behind you in panic from the situation you've just encountered. your head comes up to gaze at the other, frustrated that he hasn't gone away after slapping your face, blinking your eyes or even falling off the bed.

"fuck. so you're real then."

"tch, then what am i? am i not matter, a material that constitutes the observable universe and, together with energy, forms the basis of all objective phenomena?"

you blow a raspberry, "did you get that from my science notes? god, whatever, let's get you some clothes."

luckily, with your wide array of oversized shirts, you were able to dress him decently. despite your confusion, you still were very interested to know how he came to be in your small apartment. with a skilled hand, you brew some coffee for the both of you, handing him a steaming hot cup after a few minutes.

"i change every night," sukuna says nonchalantly, immediately spitting out the bitter drink in repulsion.

he makes a disgusted face, “what the fuck is this?”

you deadpan, "really? all over my floor?"

getting up, your hands reach for the paper towels to clean up the mess that your cat-turned-human made, cringing at the way the paper towel turns brown with the immediate soak-up.

“but this is the first time i’ve struggled to change back. i’m not sure how i do it normally, but jeez, drinking your goddamn coffee makes me wish i was a cat again.”

with each passing minute, he gets on your nerves and by now, he’s shoved the drink back to you. standing up, he stretches his muscles like how he usually does in the mornings, allowing for every part of his toned body to show itself.

there goes the annoyance...

"well, i can't say i'm not attracted either..." you mutter to yourself, gulping down the extra cup before placing them in the sink. the laptop you frequent makes its way onto your lap not so long later, bringing up a essay due in the next week. you decided to start early this time and made sure to pace yourself, trying to rule out the last minute rushes you always settled for.

an arm encircles around your waist, taking you by surprise when you let out a squeak. sukuna is nuzzling himself into your arm while you try to frantically delete the out-of-topic sentence that was making its way onto the word doc.

"what are you doing?"

"morning routine," he simply says, laying his tongue on you without any warning.

"oh god, sukuna, no!" you groan, pushing him away from his tight grip on you like he usually does when his body is propped against your chest. you've woken up too many times, struggling to breathe because of his weight.

he retreats reluctantly, really wishing he was a cat again as he grunts at your behaviour.

"have it your way," sukuna mumbles, his naturally grumpy self amplified by your rejection. you thought back to the times your maine coon normally sat beside you quietly, basking in the way your fingers typed on the keyboard.

what could be any different? plus, you'd have a reciprocation of your head pats.

there's a tug on the other's wrist, "you can lay. just no- no licking, okay?"

you almost scoff at the sukuna rolls his eyes, but his actions betray him anyways because he's laid down beside you, curling into your side as he places his head into your stomach.

the desktop's illumination shines brighter than the morning's rays, hypnotising sukuna into a slumber as you play with his hair.

you wouldn't have noticed the male if he hadn't introduced himself, but his brash personality matched your cat too closely, knowing you were the only one he'd show affection to despite the constant hissing and glares he sent to your friends.

a gentle grasp of his hand snaps you out of your thoughts, bringing back memories of the way he'll lay his paw on you, even during the first time where you met him in the animal shelter.

sukuna stays peaceful throughout his sleep, pink hair slowly becoming messier the more he cuddled into your person. he was content now, at least, as you read over the essay to correct any mistakes.

it lulls him in and out of consciousness, stuck between wanting to hear your tender voice and relishing being embraced in his sleep.

either way, he was positive he wanted to spend the rest of his cat (or human) life with you.

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helenaklein · 3 years

Note

The wedding scene was so awful I literally felt nothing throughout it except disappointment and even physically cringed at times tbh. When Xenia refused to have Sivi customs during the wedding and to keep it simple i was so angry like?? Specially since they later decide its their actual wedding, you literally had the option to change it a little bit towards your preference. And the damn mourning veil. It was just an awful situation and i can’t believe they actually ruined her route in one episode. Then its brushed off as scandalous just “because shes her advisor” and not because of Xenia’s reputation and how people have treated her.

Small aside but I found it odd that the only family appearance in Petralone is such a distant relative, no mention of her parents or siblings or even a reason as to why she doesn’t contact/mention them. And bringing Ernesta back to Altadellys without a second thought, without fully explaining the things she’ll go through just because shes a sivi astounded me. im deleting this season out of my mind

oh you're on my level 100%, especially about brushing off all hesitation as "people will oppose this because im your advisor". it's such a fucking cop out of an explanation after literally everything. people didn't even like xenia spending time with mc when she was just a spring princess because they still want to be prejudiced assholes, and refusing to orient that as a significant concern just... erases so much of what they've been up against.

and that ties into not warning ernesta about altadellys! as if those very real barriers xenia's had to contend with for the last ~15 years of her life because she's a sivi aren't something ernesta might want to know about before deciding to uproot her entire life and move. even something minor like "it'll be nice not to be the only one for a change. the capital can be... difficult. especially towards those it perceives as outsiders" would have done the job just fine.

i was willing to forgive a lot this season. i would have liked to see more of xenia's family for sure, but i imagine sivi are difficult on a art resources level. it did strike me as odd though that they chose a great aunt instead of just making her xenia's grandmother. sometimes extended family is someone's only family, and it does seem like ernesta had a significant role in xenia's childhood (if not a direct hand in raising her) regardless, but yeah i agree it was an odd choice.

#lvstrck

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bxdcubes · 4 years

Note

“I’m a loyal subscriber!” “... Im deleting the account.” Stoyd? Stiles somehow finds Boyd’s YouTube channel where he reviews comics?

I’m sorry because it’s been ages. But at first, I really didn’t know if I would find an idea for this. I hope you like it!

Stiles found Boyd’s channel by an accident. He was on an anxiety-fuelled internet bender looking for a distraction and fluctuating from one interest to another when he saw the cover of one of his favorite Iron Man comics on a thumbnail for a YouTube video.

He wasn’t quite sure what he expected from the video itself, but within three minutes he got completely hooked and the sole reason for it was the YouTuber behind it. Boyd reviewed comics, something he seemed to be doing on and off for a year, judging from his channel page, and he did so with wit and a kind of dry, sometimes dark humor that Stiles really appreciated.

Boyd was also ridiculously handsome and Stiles might have had to rewind some videos a few (dozen) times, feeling at times absolutely devastated by how beautiful Boyd’s smile was.

He watched all of the videos on Boyd’s channel in the span of three days and honestly, it was the best not-sleep he had in a while. It also meant that he spent the remainder of his week off work rewatching his favorites, sometimes playing them in the background as he cooked or cleaned his apartment.

It was just that Boyd’s voice had a soothing quality to it and focusing on it, being now familiar with the videos, helped Stiles to settle his mind when his thought threatened to run amok. It was just like rewatching his favorite show with the difference of Boyd being an actual real person.

Stiles didn’t even mind that much that Boyd seemed to have abandoned his comic reviewing carrier a few months back and there didn’t seem to be going to be any new uploads.

It didn’t stop him from commenting on every single video one night, thanking Boyd for his work and helping Stiles take his mind off life in general. It just seemed like the thing to do even if immediately after Stiles got embarrassed at how overzealous some of it might have sounded and spend a whole day anxiously awaiting any notifications that might pop up.

But nothing of the like happened, Stiles’ week off ended and he got back to his job at the bookstore just as tired as he felt last week.

He got welcomed by a friendly slap on the back from Erica and the order to shelve their latest shipment of books. So Monday as usual.

Only when Stiles stopped at the comic section of the bookstore he almost lost his grip on the box of comics he was holding because right there next to the display stood Boyd.

And Stiles did feel like an absolute creep right then, recognizing Boyd solely by the shape of his ears, Boyd’s profile and what he gleaned from the videos to be Boyd’s favorite hoodie since Boyd wasn’t even facing Stiles.

He didn’t know why he did it, maybe he just wanted to see if it really was him, if he was as handsome in real life as on camera, if his smile would have the same quality to it, if his smile would be just as sweet. But, feeling absolutely weirded out and strangely excited, he approached Boyd.

“Hi,” he said, a little shakily, “Can I help you with anything?”

Boyd looked at him then, smiling politely, and it was him, Stiles would recognize him anywhere, so Boyd’s “Thanks, I’m just browsing.” didn’t put Stiles off in any way.

His mouth though seemed to have gained a mind of its own because in the next moment he just blurted out, “I’m a loyal subscriber.”

Immediately, he could feel his face heating up in embarrassment, and Boyd’s obvious surprise only made it worse.

“... I’m deleting the account.”

Scratch that, what Boyd just said was the absolute worst.

“What? No!” Stiles exclaimed, then cringed at himself. He finally put the box he was holding on the floor because he was only making the situation worse and the box was in the way, “Sorry, I mean, please don’t delete it. I know this is probably very weird to you and I’m creeping you out, but if nothing else, please don’t delete the videos. They’ve been a great way to help me deal with anxiety lately and yeah, it’s your channel and you can do with it what you want and an absolute stranger like me really shouldn’t be telling you what you’re doing, but please?”

Boyd stared at Stiles for a long moment, his eyes roaming over Stiles’ face, cataloging his desperation probably, before finally saying, “Okay.”

Stiles sighed in relief, “Thank you.”

“But only because you’re really cute,” Boyd said, smiling and Stiles’ face felt so hot it might actually fry some eggs.

“Oh, um. Thanks?”

“Look, this might be a bit forward,” Boyd continued and he looked a little shy then, “But you’ll probably admit this whole meeting is weird, so maybe you wouldn’t mind getting a coffee with me sometime?”

“Yes!” Stiles exclaimed, then backtracked, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind getting a coffee with you, in fact, I would like that, a lot.”

The way Boyd smiled at that surely made better men than Stiles weak in the knees. And as weird as their first meeting was it made for a great video a few weeks later when Stiles got to be a part of the renewed and rebranded comic review videos on Boyd’s channel.

#stoyd #boydstiles #mar writes #mssmartian #anonymous

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junionigiri · 5 years

Text

Boom Clap [bnha: vigilantes one shot]

Story Summary: Haimawari Koichi is quite content spending New Year's Eve alone in his run-down rooftop apartment, but Iida Tensei has other plans.

Relationship: Haimawari Koichi/Iida Tensei

Rating: T

Warnings/Notes: haha wtf is a warm-up drabble anyways. this isn’t edited but whatever. gonna go back to my other AU in a bit. Happy new year everyone :)

31 December 20XX, 2154H

Haimawari Koichi watches the night sky alone.

He has cans of beer, one of them already open and half-empty in his hand. His phone is out, but apart from taking piss-poor quality photos of the stray fireworks already colouring the night sky in vivid oranges and greens and pinks, it is glaringly quiet. Almost… annoyingly so. But he can’t complain.

Pop is finally spending time with her family and not with some college-aged vigilante, as proper middle school girls ought to. Makoto-senpai is with her older brother too--she managed to pressure him into going home to see their parents after so long.

His college friends wouldn’t step near here, for obvious reasons. And the kinda-friends he’s met as a vigilante… well, Koichi’s kind of dense, but even he understands that inviting Eraserhead for a beer here isn’t the most genius idea.

Knuckleduster… well who knows where he really is right now. Koichi only hopes that he’s alive wherever he is. He doesn’t have a lot of chances to say that he misses that insane master of his, not even to himself.

And… that’s the extent of his friends, he realizes. Those close enough that he can theoretically ask to spend some time with him on his little rooftop in the city, at least.

That’s… kind of sad. But he tries not to think about that too much.

There’s no one else here.

It’s not so bad, he supposes. Life as a college student by day, a vigilante by night isn’t exactly the most quiet. He made up a stupid University-related excuse not to go home to Mom’s because villains don’t take the holidays off (and also he prefers meeting the new year without being slapped silly like a fly). So he should really enjoy the quiet, while he can.

Another stray firework explodes above his head. He tries to capture it on camera, for what it’s worth. As expected, it looks shitty, exactly what you get from a flip-phone camera.

He deletes it.

It’s quiet. A breeze blows by, cold and biting, but his All Might hoodie keeps him warm.

It’s the perfect time for a villain to strike. If he were a villain, he’d strike now.

He looks at the streets below his complex. Come on. Somebody? Anybody?

Nope. Nada. He sighs, and looks up the sky again. Maybe he should patrol, or something? Ah, but during holidays like this, the younger heroes are out and about, on higher alert than on a normal day. If he ran into any of them, he might just be the one to get arrested. Not the best thing to happen to greet the new year.

His phone rings like a bell, startling him. “Ah--”

He flips his phone open. A single message, a short one, but just enough to make his heart flutter.

Tensei Iida (2201H): Happy New Year to you and your family! Here’s hoping that the incoming year is prosperous! Let’s work hard together! - Turbo Hero Ingenium

He’s two hours too early for the generic new year’s greeting texts, isn’t he? He must have thought ahead and sent the message before the signals got congested. Figures that the Turbo Hero is ahead of everyone, even new year’s texts.

Still… Koichi’s smiling a little too wide just receiving a generic greeting. Ah, frickin’ stupid, really--

Their chat thread isn’t exactly brimming with messages, either. In fact, this is the first message in their log. They exchanged numbers ages ago during one of their runs, but there really isn’t a good reason for either of them to send messages to each other. Besides, Koichi thinks that it wouldn’t be good for one of the more popular heroes to be in close contact with an infamous vigilante--who knows when the police might need to check his text records, or something…

Oh… and also, his crippling shyness gets in the way of making a proper human-like text too, let’s not forget about that.

His fingers tap nervously against the keys of his phone, erasing and re-typing and erasing his messages again. Double-thinking whether it’s too eager or too disinterested or just right for him to text now, or in a minute, or in an hour--

What is he going to say, anyway? Blessings to you too, please keep watching out for us? Yeah, let’s work hard together, you on the legal side and me on the dark shady criminal side? Yeah man I can’t wait til we run again, please wear tighter jogging shorts this year hehe jk lol. Oh, wait, is this the appropriate time to confess his crazy gay crush yet? With any luck, the moment Tensei reads it, there’s fireworks in the sky, boom boom and then--

Koichi, no. Just. No.

He inhales, and lets his thumbs fly over the keypad. Happy New Year, he starts out in Japanese, ending with a :) .

Too plain. He deletes that.

Happy New Year, he writes, in English this time. There, that’s not too plain, that might be something that Tensei will at least be a lil bit amused to read. Right. He thinks about it a little more, and adds another :) .

Well. That won’t make any hearts throb. That’s… seenzoned material, that’s not really-- yeah, that’s really boring, even for a generic new year’s greeting that he’s spent a lot of thought on.

A generic new year’s greeting that he’s spent five… ten… fifteen minutes composing already. What the fuck, Koichi. Just say something, anything, just fill up the screen with some shitty fireworks kaomoji and blame it on Pop if he asks about it.

He takes a deep breath. Okay, so… the past year he’s gotten away a lot with being a little more impulsive, right? So just… say what you want, and just let things happen. Most likely nothing will happen, so.

Me: Happy New Year! Thanks for all your help this year. Hope you and your family are doing well, ‘specially Tenya. If you’re patrolling, I hope you don’t run into anyone too dangerous lol~

Before he berates himself for sounding stupid, he presses send. It gets delivered at 2218H.

Okay. Well that isn’t so bad. But the cutesy ~ makes him cringe.

He shuts his phone with a satisfying snap and takes a sip of his beer. Ugh, his face is getting warm, this beer isn’t cold enough! Come on, isn’t it supposed to be winter, where are the bitter biting winds when you need them?

No cold wind comes, only another message. He almost tosses his phone over the side of the building the moment his phone chimes again.

He takes a deep breath, flips his phone open and reads:

Tensei Iida (2221H): Thanks, Haimawari-kun! Tenya’s doing well, he’s with our grandparents outside the city. Just about to finish my shift now tho, so obviously I won’t be celebrating with everyone ^_^’ Are you patrolling too? Try not to get caught, okay?

Ahhh ahhh a real reply ahhhhhhh a blessed smiley from Ingenium, ahhh. He needs to go in and put his head in the freezer.

But he doesn’t--Tensei replied to him really fast, so surely it’s polite to reply to him really fast too. I mean it’s the polite thing to do. A guy on patrol in a quiet city has the means to reply fast, so he should return the favor.

Trying to will his heart not to go doki doki much like a shoujo manga heroine, he struggles to type, Oh, im not lmao theres a lot of you out there and i dont want to spend the new year in prison.

Tensei Iida (2224H): You’re right! That’s a relief. I don’t want to go to Tartarus just so we can go jogging together! ;) Tensei Iida (2224H): so are you with your folks? Out of town?

The winky face, and the implication that Tensei would visit him in maximum security prison should the opportunity arises almost kills him on the spot. Koichi suppresses another urge to roll over the cement tiles of the rooftop and manages to reply:

Me (2226H): nah. naruhata Tensei Iida (2327H): oh. In the university dorm, by yourself? Me (2228H): haha no lmao i dont live in the university. i live up on the roof in that one rundown apartment two blocks away cant miss it Me (2229H): but yeah by myself Tensei Iida (2331H): !!! on new years eve? Me (2232H): yeah? Tensei Iida (2335H): Oh! Well, that’s not good... Me (2236H): lmao do u feel that sorry for me Tensei Iida (2337H): It’s not that! Sorry hahahaha Me (2238H): its ok haha

Well, that’s a little awkward. Koichi doesn’t know what to say next, and when the minutes pass by, the speedy replies suddenly stops. He tries to type out another reply to tell him to change the subject but he has no clue how to proceed.

And then, the minutes pass in silence. There are more fireworks rising in the skies now, building up a crescendo for the bigger ones scheduled for midnight. They’re really pretty, but Koichi’s guts are in turmoil, giddiness making them churn in one direction, and pure anxiety in the opposite direction.

Fifteen minutes later, to his surprise, his phone chimes again.

Tensei Iida (2253H): 16th st apartment complex?

A firework goes boom behind his head. Koichi blinks. Uh. yeah, he types in dumbly.

Tensei Iida (2254H): Ok. Look down. :D

Koichi stares at the message for another dumb second and almost trips over himself rushing to the edge.

It’s a little hard to see since he’s way down there, but Koichi doesn’t miss the shiny silver and blue of Ingenium’s mecha-inspired hero suit. He’s waving up at him, and Koichi hopes that he sees him waving back.

He’s prepared to turn on his heel and run down to meet him, but he sees Tensei hold his hand up, in a gesture for him to stay right where he is. Koichi tilts his head curiously, raises both arms in a confused shrug.

He’s far away, but Koichi sees him give his trademark grin. He goes five steps backwards…

And Recipro-bursts his way up the side of the building.

“Holy sh--”

It’s less than half a minute when Ingenium makes it up and over the ledge. Smoke rises from the engines of his arms and it’s really concerning, but the way the Turbo Hero is just smiling at him with a salute, like he’s in a mission to rescue him from the burning building of his heart just... makes him melt in a stupid puddle without any sense of comprehension.

“Hey there, Crawler,” Tensei says, stepping closer to him.

“Hey,” Koichi stammers out. “Um… that was neat and all, but you know we have an elevator, so--”

The pro laughs. “Yeah, but elevators are pretty slow, and I wanted to see you faster than they would allow me.”

Anyone who is interested is free to canvass Koichi’s corpse of its vital organs. Just. Say the word.

“Yeah, you were… pretty fast, haha.” His voice catches like he’s still in puberty. He clears his throat. “I didn’t know you could run up the sides of buildings. That’s pretty insane.”

“Yeah, I didn’t know I could too.”

“Uh.”

Tensei collapses on the floor, legs crossed and arms waving in front of him like they’re boneless. “You wouldn’t happen to have any juice there, would you? My arms are feeling pretty wobbly, and--”

Aaaah wtf! “Y-yeah, hang on a sec, Iida--”

Koichi glides in his apartment in the speed of light and rummages through the scanty contents of his fridge. He has to dig a bit to find the stock of grapefruit juice at the back.

(Since that incident with the Catbus, he buys a stock of them on impulse and carries a bottle with him during patrols. In the tiny chance that he runs into Tensei and he needs extra fuel, he’s frickin’ ready. And if he doesn’t, well… grapefruit juice doesn’t taste that bad, so…)

He’s back to Tensei in record time. He tosses the bottle to him, and the pro chugs it down gratefully. He instantly looks refreshed at the last gulp, puts down the bottle with an aahhh and only grins at Koichi’s distress.

“What the heck, Iida! You haven’t done anything like that before?!”

He laughs awkwardly. “I’ve run up two storeys before, but--”

Koichi’s apartment complex is, like, ten storeys high. “Y-you could have gone splat or kaboom on the way up here, man! You could have been a really bloody human firework!”

Tensei shrugs. “I didn’t though! This tells me a lot about what I can do with my quirk!”

He’s a little too chill for someone who could have fallen ten storeys down onto the dirty Naruhata pavement, Koichi thinks. He gives him an exasperated look and collapses next to him. “Yeah, I guess, but… you didn’t have to do all that just to see me…”

He grins at him again, leans his head closer to his, like he tends to do from time to time. Koichi reckons that it’s because Tensei doesn’t have a good sense of personal space, but all the same it makes his heart throb painfully in his chest. “I felt like I did. Let me show off from time to time, Haimawari-kun.”

Ahh you cheesy bastard, Tensei, you bleeding show-off. It’s a good thing it’s so dark, because he’s sure he’s a cherry tomato by that time, and he can’t blame it on the half-empty can of beer next to him. “Hah! Sure, do that… I’d show off my new moves to you too if I could. You’re lucky I can’t, you’d feel like a total slowpoke hahaha--”

What the fuck is he saying, he doesn’t know anymore. This back-and-forth shit-talking thing (Makoto insists that it’s flirting, but Koichi disagrees because hah why would Iida Tensei flirt with a guy like him?) is more natural when they’re running out the streets and out of breath from trying to outdo each other. Without the excuse of physical exhaustion to explain away his stammering, Koichi’s a little worried of how brainless he might have sounded then.

Tensei only looks more and more amused, and doesn’t get any less close. “I dunno about that, Crawler. Been a while since we had a real race.”

“Heh, you’re right.” Koichi has been more careful using his quirk in public, out of disguise. He doesn’t wear his All Might hoodies when he’s around Tensei, unless by accident.

A silence falls between them, a slightly uncomfortable one where Koichi is hyperaware of the steadily increasing proximity between them, of the alcohol in his veins, of his rushing pulse. Trying to distract himself, he reaches out for an unopened can of beer and offers this to Tensei, who accepts.

He pulls the tab off the cheap, lukewarm thing, tilts it close to his. “Cheers.”

Koichi nods. “Cheers.”

They take a swig in unison. Fireworks explode above them, spurts of colors in the sky. The shine of the lights above do something interesting over the steel of Tensei’s suit.

“Hey, so… if you want to take your suit off--”

“Hm?” Tensei looks down on himself. “You want me to strip down? I usually expect dinner first, but for you--”

“That’s not what I--” Koichi stammers, as he flushes in an ever deeper scarlet that he doesn’t think is even possible. Ah, how drunk is he, huh? How Asian is he that he would turn this red, just from drinking this teensy amount of beer?

He takes off the metal plates more carelessly than Koichi reckons he should be handling them, and lets them down on the floor next to him with a sound. Tensei looks grateful for the extra breathing space as he leans back to appreciate the growing noise and lights above them. “This is an awesome spot, Koichi. The view’s great from up here, huh?”

“Yeah, you know it.”

(And the younger boy leans back, away from him, and tries not to appreciate how Tensei looks in just that tight black bodysuit thing he has underneath. Lean, broad, muscly, like a Greek god, and...)

A few quiet moments pass by. Tensei finishes a can. Koichi works on his third one and he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly drinking so fast. He coughs a little to clear up his suddenly tight throat. “So it’s weird because you almost died going up here, but thanks for coming up here, I guess… it’s pretty cool being up here, by myself--”

Perfectly content, and lonely, and quite possibly drunk by himself by this time, but not as drunk as he feels right there next to him--

“--but it’s cool not… looking at all the pretty lights by myself this time,” he struggles out. Stupid, really, he isn’t even looking at the fireworks anymore, just the beer can under his nose, like he’s reading tea leaves and begging for some clarity.

“Yeah. I’m glad I invited myself up here, too,” Tensei says gently. “I’m shameless I know, but knowing you’re alone up here, I couldn’t help myself--”

Koichi laughs nervously. “Yeah, you are pretty--”

When he turns his head, Tensei’s nose is two centimeters away from his. His eyes are looking right into his, freezing him in place.

“... pretty,” he swallows, already lost. “... shameless.”

Tensei makes a sound in his throat, so quiet that he can’t hear it among the sounds of explosions, but he’s so close he feels the hit, like he Shooty-Go-Blammed himself in the chest. He might be agreeing or disagreeing but fuck whatever they were talking about, Koichi can’t remember why the small talk matters anymore.

Tensei puts one gloved hand underneath his chin, a lackadaisical grin on his face showing off that sharp incisor that Koichi thinks is very cute. “Pretty,” he agrees.

He feels the change in the air, feels the charge spark in between them, through his eyeballs and his little brain.

They lean in closer. Eyes flutter closed. Koichi’s heart is beating fast and hot and electric.

Lips touch.

Explosions go off in his brain.

Ahhh, Koichi screams in his head, as the sensation of Tensei’s insanely soft lips on his beery virgin ones immediately makes him question reality. One hand goes up to experimentally touch the back of the older man’s head, fingers threading through that soft, dark hair. He pushes a little, nudges him just a little closer to him. The minuscule distance between them practically disappears.

“Ahhh--” This time his mental scream is an audible gasp when Tensei pushes him down on the concrete, supporting his head and back with gloved hands, and continues the kissing with Koichi underneath him.

Sparks of light litter the night air, like violent blooming flowers against the infinite canopy of darkness, in booms and kablooeys and claps and other ridiculous noises. Koichi doesn’t care to wax poetic about them, not when his heart is probably doing the same shit, with Tensei and his warmth is right there above him, feeling so nice and right.

Yeah, he belongs right here, right in his arms. What the hell has he done all year, the blur that is his 19 years of life, before this?

Eventually they have to break the kiss to get some of that chill air between their lungs. They gasp in unison, a dashing smile on Tensei’s face, and a dopey smile on Koichi’s. The older man caresses the side of his face. “Haimawari-kun,” he says gently.

“Yeah? Ah, it’s Koichi, by the way.”

Tensei nods. “Koichi-kun,” he repeats.

That right there is the stuff of dreams. Koichi feels like he’s overheating, despite the winter night. “Hah, is it new years yet, Iida? We should be counting down, or something--”

He gets another sweet kiss on the lips instead. Moments stretch before him. The concrete under him feels like the softest cloud as he allows himself to melt under his touch once again.

“It’s Tensei,” he breathes sensually into his ear. “And… honestly, I don’t care about the time, Koichi, just--”

There’s jovial shouting down at where the city square is, and more light and noise, far away from their rooftop.

“Yeah,” Koichi agrees with a smile. “Fuck that clock.”

They laugh like a couple of idiots, and kiss some more and damn, he could do with more of this in the coming years.

Soon, it’s January. The air is getting a little colder. They spend the rest of the first day of the new year in Koichi’s humble apartment, warmer than either of them could ever hope for.

#bnha fic #bnha vigilantes #tenkoi #koisei #haimawari koichi #iida tensei #koichi x tensei #new years kiss #let's celebrate everyone

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tcswritings · 5 years

Text

Messages. (WIP/unpolished)

:: updated on 07/18/2019 ::

The day after the party. Orla is thinking many thoughts.

*****

It had been a bit more than six hours since he left and when she closed her eyes, she could still feel his hands on her body as well as his unsteady breath against the skin of her neck and how strands of blonde hair had tickled her face every now and then.

What truly made her stomach flutter though was thinking back to all the brief moments when his eyes had met hers, when they shared sweet looks, to make sure the other one was feeling just fine, comfy and secure.

Biting her lip, she couldn’t help but smile to herself for the dozenth time that afternoon. Sleeping with someone wasn’t new to Orla and while she wouldn’t call herself an expert in the field, she had more than a basic idea of how these things worked and how to make them enjoyable for both parts. Last night, however, she had found out that sleeping with a friend was in no way comparable to anything she had experienced before and she also had to realise that the things she knew weren’t exactly helpful in that matter - she had felt like a clueless, giggling idiot anyway.

It hasn’t been bad, though, not at all. Quite the opposite, actually, but Orla couldn’t stop asking herself if people writing books and movies about friends falling in love had ever fallen in love with a friend themselves - there were usually big talks about how knowing each other inside out makes these things oh-so-much easier and friends would just switch to being lovers as if it was the most natural and uncomplicated thing ever and Orla couldn’t comprehend it at all. What happened last night was probably the most exciting and amazing moment of her young life so far and nothing made perfect sense just yet - it had all happened so fast after all.

That was not the only thing on her mind, though. There was something else, something far more essential.

She lay flat on her bed and stared at the ceiling and she had been doing that for the entire day, more or less. Ever since Mick had left the house she had been wondering. Wondering if what they did was right, if they should have waited until they had figured out at least SOME details (considering the well-known fact that sex had also great potential to mess things up), if they would do it again, when they would do it again and, most importantly, what they even were now, because if there was one thing certain it was that they had left their strictly platonic friendship behind.

Before he left, Mick had kissed her goodbye and he had also promised that they would meet up tonight but there hadn’t been any sign of life from him ever since and Orla had long started wondering if he had given it a second thought and maybe - she cringed at the mere thought - even changed his mind.

She reached for her phone for the umpteenth time (the last time was about five minutes ago) and unlocked it, only to feel the familiar little sting as she couldn’t spot the highly anticipated red little bubble that alerted her any time she had new messages.

Instead, she got the impression that her messenger merely laughed at her now:

No new message, girl.

Nope.

Not a single one.

Stop waiting.

He doesn’t care.

Just accept it already.

Orla sighed and tried to shake the weird thoughts off as she snuggled into her pillow a little more. She was being silly and she knew it. Those might be legit worries if it was any other guy she had just met the other night but the guy in question was Mick and Mick wasn’t like that. He was always true to his word and as she knew that he had some things to do today - and she knew that way before that unexpected and pleasant turn of events last night - she figured that she would just have to be patient.

How about you just text him, Dummy? her messenger now suggested, probably as a little gesture of reconciliation for sparking her mopey thoughts a minute ago. Or maybe just call him? It’s 2013, gals no longer sit around waiting for a man to make a move, we make shit happen!

Orla pursed her lips as she opened the messenger again. She didn’t even have to scroll; Mick was the first to show up in her chats as they had send each other a few texts at the party last night while they were wandering around apart from each other, trying to find a private spot where it would just be the two of them but they hadn’t been very successful.

She chuckled as she read his last few lines again.

SAT, 03-16-2013

1:17: kitchen again?

1:18: NO DONTCOME hERE someone puked in here

1:19: Im gonna go upstairs

1:25: where are you

1:25: WHERE

1:25: are

1:25: YOU

1:26: thou shalt answer

1:27: Im desperate

1:29: IM LOST 😂

1:30: this house is HUGE

1:30: almost LIKE oUS

1:30: OURS

1:32: oRLAA

‘Adorable’, Orla thought, smiling. They had found each other just a bit after that last message and they had managed to share at least one more passionate kiss before they had to jump apart once more as they got disturbed by a little group of drunk idiots - she couldn’t even remember who - staggering into the room.

She chuckled as she began typing.

Hey handsome 😘 I was just wondering whether we could

She stopped. Too casual. This wasn’t asking for getting a snack during lunch break after all. Orla hit the delete button and pressed her lips into a thin line. ‘Maybe I should google for some reference’, she thought. ‘How to properly address your childhood friend with whom you had sex last night.’

Or, well, maybe not.

I just saw this ad for porch swings and I thought I could get one so we can

God, no.

You like big butts and you cannot lie… 😜

NO! (She could very well imagine the face he would make if he read that one, though.)

If choosing what to wear is what’s taking you so long to get back to me I’m happy to inform you that I fancy the kind of activity which doesn’t require any apparel at all so stop making a damn fuss 👀 💋

Smart. Playful. Sexy.

But no.

Please don’t change your mind about us and come back here, I miss you!

Woah. Needy, much?

“Aaaaah!” Orla cried out in frustration as she tossed her phone to the side, slumping back into the pillows. “This sucks.”

Only a few moments later she had another thought. Couldn’t it be that Mick was going through the very same thing right now? That he was sitting on his bed or his couch, or maybe in his kitchen just in this moment, long legs up on the other chair, chainsmoking, like he did so often when he felt lost, typing some words into his phone every few moments, only to delete them again because nothing he came up with felt appropriate?

Maybe Mick was just dying to hear from her all the time. Maybe he was just as insecure as she was and when she thought back to the party as well as to what happened after it, right here, she suddenly felt very silly for even thinking that he might want to back out. The way he had looked at her as well as his body language had spoken volumes after all.

Orla swiftly reached back for her phone and opened the messenger once more. Sometimes the best way to overcome awkward situations was to be honest and straightforward. Once she was done typing, Orla hit the send button and closed her eyes as she took a deep breath.

*****

“I can very well remember the last words Ethel said to me and they were sure words to live by.”

Terry Irvine, a stocky, balding man in his fifties, made a pause, heavy with meaning, as he looked around the tastefully decorated room, feeling deep satisfaction as he saw that everyone was listening to his words with rapt attention.

“She said ‘Lives are like rivers, Terry:” he went on, “Eventually they go where they must. Not where we want them to.’(*)“

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what she said.” Connor O’Loughlin scoffed quietly. “A mean old bitch will suddenly start crackin’ wise proverbs after she spent her lifetime just spattering shit at any given occasion.”

Mick bit his lip as he tried not to laugh at his younger cousin’s remark and he wondered whether anyone in his room actually liked ‘Aunt’ Ethel as the few memories he had of her certainly weren’t the best. She had sometimes looked after him when he was still a kid and as far as he could remember, she never allowed him to do anything besides sitting still while reading bible verses together and she also made him eat the worst, greasiest porridge that the world has ever tasted and the mere memory of it made his guts turn.

Friends and family were gathered together today, mourning Ethel’s recent death, but Mick felt rather indifferent about her passing; he was merely here to do his parents a favour who claimed that they had always been particularly fond of the old hag and while that might even be true, he couldn’t help but feel that they also wanted to represent the family business which, considering the estimated average age of the majority of people in the room, was actually a clever stroke.

“... and I’m sure that Ethel is smiling down upon us just now, as she sees all her friends and family joined together in love and harmony, thinking of her and the wonderful things she has done for each and everyone of us...”

Not only was he not listening, Mick also still had other things on his mind. Far more important and definitely nicer things. (No offense, Ethel.) He made a little step back and once he was sure that no one was watching, he reached behind his back and grabbed a handful of bread cubes from one of the bowls on the buffet table, still looking at Terry addressing his audience with his pompous speech as well as his grossly overstated gestures and expressions. That speech would last for an eternity, Mick just knew it, and he didn’t feel like starving, especially not now that his life had seemingly taken a really great turn.

“... I ask you now to observe one minute's silence as a token of our respect and sympathy for our sweet Ethel...”

Mick pushed the image of Ethel’s wrinkled and actually not-so-sweet face aside. Happily munching his bread cubes, he now recalled the memory of a pair of pale blue eyes looking at him from under the longest lashes he had ever seen. Orla O’Connell’s gorgeous, freckled face became clearer and her red-tinted lips smiled sweetly at him as Mick’s mind once again drifted off to last night, to their very first kiss on the porch swing and the ones that followed, to the moment when he had brought Orla home and when she had insisted on him staying and when she had started undressing him in the hallway and how they had barely made it to her room where they would eventually-

“Oy, creep, what are you grinning at?!” Connor’s sister, Delilah, now hissed at him, interrupting his pleasant thoughts and nudging him with her elbow a little harder than necessary. “Stop eating!”

“Ow! I’m hungry, fuck off.” Mick spat back. “Terry’s at the top o’ his game, it’ll take ages until they open up the buffet.”

“Disrespectful freak.” Delilah muttered, shaking her head and crossing her arms. She was usually all bark and no bite, Mick knew, but very irritating nonetheless.

Terry now directly looked into Mick’s direction and cleared his throat. Mick stared back at him, swallowing down his bread crumbs, suddenly seeing the many irritated faces staring at him, among them the horrified expressions of his parents.

Oh.

It was actually the second time that day someone had caught him with food and he usually would have laughed at the coincidence but considering that he was at a memorial service, he decided against it.

“Sorry!” he called.

Terry closed his eyes and sighed. “Now, one minute’s silence, please.”

Mick bit his lip. Thanks, Delilah. While he usually hated being made look silly, nothing could ruin his mood today, not even his uptight cousin. Granted, it probably was a little inappropriate to think of the things he had just thought of again at a memorial service but then again, no one could read his thoughts and wasn’t death also about celebrating life, after all?

Just as Mick’s mind wandered back to all the moments he had celebrated life with Orla last night he could feel his phone buzzing in the pocket of his suit jacket. Making sure that everyone else was still busy remembering Ethel, Mick stuffed the last few bread cubes in his mouth, pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and when he saw that the new message was from the person he hoped it would be from, a stupid-but-blissful smile spread across his face. He unlocked the screen.

I want dinner and I want to see you. Not necessarily in that order. And yes, this is me asking you out on a first real date. 💖

Swiftly scanning the room for possible watchers again and seeing that everyone was still caught up in one minute’s silence, Mick eventually looked back down on his phone, hit the reply button and started typing.

hi gorgeous

kinda in the middle of sth here but Im gonna call ya once I get out

He pressed the ‘send’ button. Not keen on provoking another awkward situation like the one that had just happened, Mick wanted to put his phone back but as he felt another buzz, he was too curious.

What kinda thing? Was that a ‘yes’, by the way?

ethels memorial service

What, Ethel died??? 😱 😱 😱

yeah last monday

You could have mentioned that at some point?!?! 😨

its fine no one actually liked her and she was old

OMG MICK WTF!!!

Torn between the excitement about meeting Orla later and the fear of getting another weird look from Terry who had just picked up his speech again, Mick eventually decided to put his phone away for now.

what

its true

talk to you later

It just occured to him that he still hadn’t let Orla know what he thought of her suggestion. Rolling his eyes at himself, he dug out his phone once more.

and yeah

that was a yes

😘

*****

Some miles away, Orla frowned at her phone’s screen, feeling mild irritation but, above all, a great rush of joy. She would call Mick out later for merely casually mentioning that he was going to be at the memorial service of a family friend that day (and also for that rather insensitive remark about no one liking said family friend, no matter how much of a truth it was) but joy had overwhelmed her. He said yes. He wanted the date.

*****

(to be continued…!)

(*) A proverb by Richard Russo, author and screenwriter.

#orla #mick #orla x mick #just a little silly drabble before bed #don't mind me I'm trash for these two lol #will polish and edit when I feel like it #*tossing out the WIPS like nothing else*#one day I will update and finish all the crap I have here #as well as all the crap I still have flying around in my drafts haha #but now off to bed!#mick sucks at texting btw #he's the annoying kind of person who writes sixteen half sentences in a row instead of writing a proper text #orla finds it adorable though #especially now that she has heart eyes for him #annoying stuff becomes endearing in that phase after all haha #ANYHOO BED #GOOD NIGHT #looking forward to writing more about my idiots SOON

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moonprincess92 · 6 years

Note

you know i want all of the AUs!!! but especially that coffeeshop AU — with sprinkles of them becoming roommates and having to fake date for some mysterious reason. :D (but i‘d be happy with just the coffeeshop AU tbh.) but you know i love all of your AUs (stories in general) and love you! ❤️

it’s no coffee shop au, but i managed to do the other two - anything for you, girl! (also on ao3)

Jyn was literally already halfway to her parent’s house when she got themessages.

JynnjYYYNNNNNfuck my life apparently danielle is getting marriedFUCKFKJGIN MARRIEDPLS ANSWER THIS IS AN OFFICIAL CODE BLUE

She’d only glanced at them as she drove, but upon seeing the forebodingDanielle’s name she immediately pulled over to read them through properly.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

She hastily texted back,

AREU FUCKING KIDDING ME TELL ME UR KIDDING

Only two cars whizzed on by before he replied,

I am NOT kidding, she’s fuckingannounced it on fb????

In the next second, Jyn was furiously pulling up said Facebook, searchingfor Danielle’s profile. She was technically still friends with the woman, butonly so that she could retain the prime stalking privileges that being Facebookfriends provided. If she could, she would have blocked and deleted herMONTHS ago, but Cassian had begged her to keep her around ‘just in case, Idon’t know, so I can avoid her I guess’. It didn’t take much scrolling. Themost recent post of hers was an engagement announcement to some guy she hadliterally never even heard of, complete with professional photo spread andcurrently over a thousand likes.

Out of spite, Jyn angry-faced it.

JUSTCHECKED, MATE U WEREN”T KIDDING

OF COURSE IM NOT KIDDING

Areu drunk yet????

I’m certainly on my way

Jyn sighed, staring at her phone. She’d been planning on meeting up withher parents for dinner for months now. With her living several cities away andtheir ever-increasing schedules, it was always hard to find the time… but thisparticular crisis called for significant action. She quickly texted Cassian oncemore,

Areu at home??

I am currently on the couch of pain,yes

Don’tmove, I’ve just left work, I’ll be there soon

Before she could receive the expected ‘no, no, you go see your familylike you planned don’t worry about me’ messages, she quickly called herparents.

“Hello?”

“Mama? It’s me,” Jyn said. “Look, I know we’ve had to reschedule thisdinner like three times now, and I’m so sorry, but I won’t be able to make ittonight either.”

“What’s going on this time?” Lyra Erso sighed.

“Cassian’s ex-fiancée has just announced that she’s engaged again.”

“Oh, shit,” Lyra said at once, any trace of disappointment instantly gone. “Seriously, Danielle?”

“You understand the gravity of the situation.”

“I thought they’d only just broken up?”

“It was four months ago,” Jyn admitted. “But four months to get over athree year relationship, find someone else, fall in love, AND get engagedagain? Fuck her!”

“Jyn, go home, seriously,” Lyra insisted. “Make sure that boydoesn’t drown himself in the bathtub or something.”

“I think drowning in alcohol is more likely – thanks Mama,” Jyn said inrelief. “Can you explain to Papa?”

“Of course – OI, GALEN!” Lyra’s booming voice suddenly screeched down the other end of theline. “CASSIAN’S EX GOT ENGAGED AGAIN!”

“The girl who dumped him two weeksbefore the wedding? How dare she!”

“I KNOW RIGHT?”

Jyn figured to hang up then. It didn’t take long for her to hang a quicku-turn and swing back in the direction she had come from, but it was longenough to notice the ten or so new messages that had apparently been sentto her as she’d spoken to her parents.

“Don’t even start,” she said upon storming straight into theirapartment. “I was coming back no matter what you said, this is a Code Blue forsure.”

“Did I even use the right one? Which one was Code Blue again?” Cassiansaid in resignation. He didn’t even bother getting up from the sofa, where hewas currently laid splayed out with a half-empty bottle of wine sitting on thecoffee table next to him.

“Code Blue is ‘emotionally my life has gone balls up and I need you’,”Jyn reminded him. “Code Red is ‘I fucked up and need immediate assistance’. Wesave Code Black for ‘I’M DYING’.”

“I don’t know, I think this could be a Code Black as well, Jyn.”

“You’re not dying yet,” she snorted, snagging the wine as she sat downon the other end of the sofa, lifting Cassian’s legs out of the way anddropping them back into her lap. She peered at the bottle in her hand andasked, “Could you have bought a cheaper bottle of wine?”

“I wasn’t spending any more on her.”

“Fair point,” Jyn threw some back. Cassian gestured for her to pass itbetween them, but she shook her head before hastily drinking more. “No, no, Iclearly have to catch up here.”

“I’m not THAT drunk.”

“Try and get off this sofa.”

He glared at her for several moments.

“Case in point.”

Cassian groaned, flinging an arm over his eyes. “Honestly, how did I endup here?” he said and Jyn felt for him, she really did. When you knew someonefor nearly 10 years, you saw a lot of heartbreaks and aches. From when they’dfirst met as awkward 18-year-old’s, to now in their late twenties and honestlyjust trying to Adult without dying, the two of them had been there throughevery single disastrous relationship they’d ever had. She’d been therebefore, during and after the Danielle fiasco, and he’d been right at her sideas she’d slashed the tyres of every ex who’d ever cheated on her (tugging onher arm and practically begging that they leave before they get caught, but he’dstill never let her do it alone). There was little that they hadn’t donetogether, or that they wouldn’t do for each other, to be honest. She rubbed hisshin where it lay over her said,

“It’s gonna be ok.”

“IS IT?” Cassian pressed his fingers hard over his eyes. “I appreciatethe support but Jyn, she’s engaged. Three years apparently wasn’t even enough time to want to marry me,but four months and she’s more than happy to say yes to some other bastard? Whothe hell even IS that guy?”

“Cassian, we’ve established that Danielle is a flighty bitch who can’tdecide what she wants and you’re better off without her,” Jyn sighed. “Do Ireally have to beat it into your head again?”

“Probably.”

She leaned over and whacked him affectionately. Thing was, the nightDanielle had called off the wedding was still a very vivid memory, even allthese months later. Literally two weeks before the day, and he had turned upoutside her door out of the blue at one am. He had only been living in his newapartment with his fiancée for three weeks at that point and her first reactionhad been to think welp, SOMEONE’Sdead. Instead, he’d looked at her with an expression that she couldn’t readand had told her simply,

“Danielle left me.”

“… fuck,” she’d said in reply.

And she really hadn’t known what else to say, because what the hell elseCOULD you say? Cassian had been so dedicated, so ready to be married, so deeplyin love that the idea that Danielle had just casually told him one night, “Hey,so I don’t really think I’m ready for marriage, sorry this didn’t work out,”seemed unfathomable.

Jyn had held out her arms and Cassian had immediately walked into them.

“Can I move back in with you?” he had sobbed into her neck.

“Of course,” she’d said back.

“ANYWAY,” she said now. “I might make more jokes and hit you some more,but I’m honestly sorry, Cassian. This sucks.”

“Yeah,” he muttered through his hands.

“You can cry, I won’t judge,” she smirked.

“Fuck you,” Cassian was already attempting to smoother the tears that wereleaking through and she damn well knew it. “Honestly, this is just mostlyembarrassing. Everyone knows that we were engaged only four months ago, and sheapparently wasn’t ready for marriage then but she’s suddenly ready NOW? WHY,JYN? FUCKING WHY.”

“Hey, only a handful of people know that’s why she left,” Jyn pointedout. “If anything, everyone will be judging her for getting engaged again soquickly! That help at all?”

“A little. But I haven’t even told you the worst part yet.”

“Christ on a bike, there’s a worse part?”

“Brace yourself,” Cassian took a moment to apparently pull up somethingon his phone. In the next, he was handing her the device apparently showing atext conversation between himself and someone with the name ‘DO NOTENGAGE’.

Hey, Cassian idk if you’ve seen, butI’m getting married!! I’dlove for you to be there, of course it’s a little whirlwind hahaso we haven’t had time to send out official invites but it’s onsat 5th Aug in southlake tahoe. PLS come, I’d love to see youagain!!!! Xxxalso feel totally free to bring a plus 1 ;)

Jyn was honestly kind of in awe.

“Say the word,” she declared, staring at the offending message. “I swearto god, just say the word and I will fucking END her.”

“I’m not quite at that point, but I’ll let you know if I change mymind.”

“You’re not going. I cannot BELIEVE she had the guts to inviteyou!”

“About that…” Cassian cringed.

Oh, motherfucking shitballs.

“You already said you’d go, didn’t you?”

“Well, if I don’t go I look petty and clearly not over her!” Cassianhastily defended himself, snatching his phone back off her before she couldread his no doubt ‘omg I’d love to!!’ messages (not to mention promptly hurlinga fist into his head as well). “So I said yes out of spite, only now I thinkI’ve backed myself into a corner. I can’t go, but I can’t not go either.”

“Christ on a bike, Cassian."

"I know."

“Well, if you think you’re going alone, you got another thing coming,”Jyn pointed out, grabbing the wine. Blimey, even she needed it now. “You’reshowing this bitch one way or another that she doesn’t have a hold on youanymore.”

“I appreciate your furiousness on my behalf,” Cassian said. “but believeme when I say I am in absolutely no headspace right now to go out and find adate.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I get you,” Jyn said. “Good thing this isn’t just awedding anymore, this is a fucking war. You can’t just take anyone, you need to take someone that is going tomake a statement. Someone that people will talk about for MONTHS after. Youneed to take the one person in the entire world that would piss her off themost.”

“So… you?”

She started a little.

She hadn’t actually been thinking of herself, but now that he mentionedit, it was suddenly the perfect plan. Danielle had quite famously never exactlytrusted the over-half-a-decade of friendship between her and Cassian, despiteJyn having attempted to date several other people over the last three years andCassian being the most devoted boyfriend she thought she’d ever seen. Herand Danielle had always played nice of course and there had even beenmoments when Jyn had managed to bring herself to maybe kind of like her, butthere had always been an undertone to their every interaction that just made itclear that at the end of the day, Danielle Livesay hated Jyn Erso’s guts andprobably always would.

There was no one else Cassian could possibly take that would annoy hermore.

“Yes, me,” Jyn said. “I’m serious, you take me as your date and Daniellewill flip her fucking LID, it will be perfect!”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that–”

“Good thing you’re not asking then,” Jyn declared. “I’m insisting andit’s decided. You got yourself a fake girlfriend! For the record, I’ll cuddleyou and give you a few kisses if she’s looking in our direction, but no tonguestuff ok?”

Cassian just shook his head, trying not to laugh.

“You’re the fucking best, Jyn.”

“Of course I am. Now drink more wine, this is gonna be a longnight.”

Of course the wedding was in fucking Lake Tahoe.

Last minute AND destination, Danielle was basically guaranteeing thatthe only people who would come were either only interested in a weekend away orwere the only ones who had no plans. Cassian’s jaw had been clenched basicallyever since they had left their apartment Friday afternoon, but steadily gotworse the closer they got to stepping inside the hotel for the ceremony.

“What do I say to her, whatdo I say–” he hissed frantically under his breath as they approached the nodoubt bloody expensive hotel. She insisted that he chill the fuck out, onlythat resulted in him shutting up and staying deathly silent instead.

"God, you’re not making this easy, mate,” she pointed out.“I think I liked it better when you were talking, I could at least tell ifyou were still alive or not.”

He just let out a strangled squeak.

“Hey,” she said,reaching out and gripping his hand tightly, their fingers interwoven together.She brought them to her chest, holding him there and making him look at her.“Cassian, I get that this hurts but don’t make it about that. You can hurttomorrow, make tonight about revenge. Hold onto that feeling instead. We’llmake out in front of her a little, and then go and get smashed at the bar.Deal?”

He nodded faintly.

They were purposefully a little late to the ceremony, just to furtherprove the point that they didn’t actually give a fuck. They were quicklyushered in amidst some irritated looks from Danielle’s family. Jyn did noticethat only one of Danielle’s three sisters had apparently bothered to show up,and yet it seemed that nearly everyone from her office had taken the trip justto take advantage of the open bar later. They took up an entire row, lookingbored and passing a hip flask subtly between them.

Danielle naturally looked fucking stunning in her dress, and Jyn wassuddenly very glad that Cassian had insisted on tradition and not seeing itbefore their own wedding because turns out she was literally wearingthe exact same dress. Out of all the things to piss her off, Jyn had honestlythought it would be something more extreme, but nope. Apparently, a dress didit! That fucking dress, the one that had to be altered three times,that Jyn had helped her pick out, had reassured over manycomplimentary glasses of champagne that she looked beautiful in and thatCassian would love it, only to just turn around and use it to marry someoneelse instead… fuck her. Her husband-to-be looked kind of in shock, honestly, like hedidn’t quite know what he was doing up there in front of all these people.

Really, she knew the feeling.

Luckily, their strategic lateness meant that they had missed half theceremony, so they didn’t have to sit through too much of the gushing ‘I loveyou’s. They only caught the tail end of it, Danielle tearing up as she spokeher vows.

“Oh my god, I’m going to ruin my make-up,” she said, gaining some politelaughs. “Oh, Derek. Honestly, I don’t even know how to finish this. I thought Iknew what love was before we met, but turns out I had no idea. I am so, solucky that I found you and get to spend the rest of my life with you. I loveyou.”

Jyn glanced over at Cassian briefly as the vows wrapped up.

She had never seen the man go white before, but he was white as a sheetnow.

“I’m so glad that’s over,” he ended up grumbling through champagne onlya little while later. Thankfully, the reception was in full swing and honestly,it was almost worth all the emotional pain this weekend was so far causing justfor the sheer elaborance of it all. The dinner had been fucking amazing, and the vinyl windows had all beenrolled up to expose the ballroom to the open air and natural lakeside view.Lanterns criss-crossed the ceiling and with a DJ pounding out cheesy pop dancesongs, it was easy to get lost in a sea of alcohol and forget the whole‘getting married four months after getting dumped’ thing.

“I’m still pissed that she hasn’t even come over to talk to you yet,”Jyn pointed out. “What kind of fucking host doesn’t even talk to all theirguests? It should be easy, there’s only about thirty of them who even botheredto come!”

“Honestly, I’m fine with it.”

“Honestly, I’m not,” Jyn said. “I wanna show that bitch a piece of mymind.”

“God stop talking, stoptalking, I think she’s watching us,” Cassian suddenly panicked, spluttering onhis drink as he hastily turned around. “You’re jinxing it!”

“She’s looking?”

“From the high table, I accidentally caught her eye!”

“Perfect,” Jyn reached out and wrapped her arms around Cassian’s waist.He didn’t raise an eyebrow, however, until she started running her hands up anddown his back, clearly something she didn’t usually do when hugging him andalso obviously in Danielle’s line of sight.

“Jyn…” he sighed.

“Come on! Is this not why you brought me?”

“I’m starting to re-think the idea, to be honest, she’s going to knowit’s not real, that I’m just a hopeless loser who brought his roommate as adate to his ex’s wedding–”

“Shut up, that’s just her getting into your head,” Jyn insisted. “Workwith me, here.”

Cassian sighed… before leaning forward and pressing his nose into herneck. “That’s it,” she grinned. It wasn’t quite the statement she was goingfor, but it would work for now at least. From this angle, it would look like hewas kissing her exposed neck and shoulder, and she purposefully turned ever soslightly so that her face could be seen from the high table.

Sure enough.

“Oh my god, she’s coming over.”

“Shit–” Cassian nearlyspilled champagne down her back.

“Don’t stop kissing me!”

“I’m not kissing you, remember–”

“Well, maybe you should be, because we got about twenty seconds beforeshe’s here–”

He cut her off with a sudden kiss that was just on the side ofdesperate, but she didn’t care. Honestly, she’d had worse kisses before andwith worse people. She didn’t even have long to make a spectacle of it sincebarely a second later Danielle was upon them, calling out and forcing themapart.

“Cassian! Jyn! Shit, guys, thank you so much for coming!”

“Oh, Dani,” Jyn said, cheerfully. “It’s no problem.”

“The journey wasn’t too bad?”

“Nah, we road tripped it,” Jyn carried on talking, seeing as it seemedthat Cassian had been deemed temporarily speechless. As well as she knew herbest friend… really, she didn’t know at all what he was currently thinking.Hell, she wasn’t even sure if he was even out of love with Danielle yet. Like,properly and everything. He was clearly not over her, as anyone rightfullywould be, but the man had been in love with her for three goddamn years. Thatwasn’t something you could just turn off overnight.

(Jyn knew. She had tried once.)

So she kept an arm slung around Cassian’s waist and chatted away aboutmostly meaningless things for a while until he could get his bearings (and histongue) back. Eventually, he managed to cut in over the conversation with arather strained and out of the blue,

“You – great! The ceremony was great!”

Danielle blinked a little, but otherwise carried on like normal. “Thanksso much,” she smiled daintily. “Hey, honestly it’s just good to see you guysagain! It’s been too long and apparently,” Jyn noticed her gaze harden just slightly around the edges. “I’vemissed a lot.”

“I s’pose there is a lot to catch up on,” Jyn noted. “Bodhi says hi, bythe way, and Kay says you can go something anatomically impossible.”

“Oh, Kay. He never gets old,” Danielle blatantly lied. “Not that I don’tLOVE your friends, but I was actually talking about you two! Like holy fuck,when did it become a thing? It’s so exciting!”

Her tone made it clear that it was not something to be excited about atall, but Jyn feigned the same enthusiasm anyway.

“Oh, it’s pretty recent,” she glanced at Cassian for help confirmingtheir made up story. They had spent their eight hour car journey here creatingit and honestly, it she had thought it worthy of an Oscar or two at one pointbefore they’d forced themselves to tone it down a bit.

“Hold up, hold up,” she had said somewhere around Yosemite NationalPark. “The key to a good lie is simplicity. The more dramatic, the more detailsyou have to remember, the less believable it becomes. You’re a decent bloke,but not even Danielle is going to buy that you surprised me with a weekend awayto Paris.”

“But I was going to photoshop us some photos and everything,” Cassianhad mock-complained.

“Maybe we save that story for when Danielle ultimately invites us to herthird baby shower,” Jyn rolled her eyes. “Let’s just go with the ‘we hooked upwhile watching a movie one night’ story.”

“But that one’s boring.”

“Are you kidding? It’s not boring at all,” she had insisted. “If anything,it’s the most romantic shit I’ve ever heard! I mean it’s two best friends andflatmates who have known each other for years taking a chance one night andhaving it pay off, like this is fucking romcom gold.”

“Ok, fine,” Cassian hadrelented.

She might have also thought of pitching the entire thing to Hollywood,but that wasn’t the point to be focusing on here. Danielle was still standingin front of her, impatiently waiting to hear some epic-worthy tale that couldpotentially rival her own and considering the expression that was currently onCassian’s face, Jyn knew that she was gonna have to be the one to tellit. She could practically see the man internally spiralling.

“So it just happened then, huh?” Danielle said through a strained smile.

“Yeah, one night we were watching a movie together,” Jyn quickly threwback. “Just something dumb, but it got us thinking and it was like… I don’tknow. A switch getting flicked somewhere. Next thing we knew, we were athing and we basically never looked back.”

She glanced up at Cassian. She was a little thrown to realise that hewas no longer staring at Danielle in utter distress, but now watching her. Shewasn’t ridiculous enough to insist that the story wasn’t a nice one to thinkabout – was there really anything more ideal than falling for someone youalready knew so well? Someone that you didn’t have to worry about annoying ormaking a good impression with, because they had already seen you at your 4amworst and didn’t care? – but imagining pretend scenarios wasn’t exactly goingto get you far in life. How bad would it be if she let herself indulge for aweekend? No matter how unhealthy it probably was, she wanted to pretend atleast for a little while that she had her life sorted.

(A part of her hoped that Cassian might be willing to pretend a bitlonger too).

“You know, I knew it,” Danielle hastily cut in. “I don’t know how, but Ialways knew it was you two! OMG, you’re like a movie or something!”

“You know, we had that exact same conversation on our way here,” Jynsaid, pulling back to give Cassian a pointed look.

“Well then,” Danielle’s smile was definitely edging into painfulterritory now, but that was what Jyn was hoping for. “I guess I’ll, erm–”

Jyn didn’t let her answer. She reached up and threaded a hand intoCassian’s hair, ignoring Danielle completely as she hauled him into her body.Danielle’s words died off immediately as Jyn kissed him with edge, with armswrapping around his neck and with that kind of energy that suggested that theywere only minutes away from pushing each other up against the gifts table.Honestly, she forgot the wedding, the people and the ex-girlfriend for amoment. All she knew was the inside of Cassian’s mouth and the things itwas doing to her.

Danielle hovered awkwardly for the entire five minutes it took her tofinally realise that they weren’t surfacing anytime soon.

“Well, see you guys around then!” she eventually trilled.

“–oh fucking lord,” Cassian gasped, pulling away once she was out of theirline of sight. “Oh fucking LORD, we just did that. She just did that. Am Idead?”

“Not yet.”

“I thought you said no tongue?”

“I don’t bloody know, ok?” Jyn said exasperatedly. “By the time Irealised, I had already committed. Kill me all right?”

“Nah, nah, I mean,” Cassian coughed, avoiding her eye. “the tongue wasgood.”

Honestly, a part of her wanted to simply laugh back the tongue was good? but something shot through her at his words. Maybe it was theawkward way he said them, maybe it was the fact that she could still feel himagainst her mouth, but either way something choked her throat and settled inher chest. When she looked up at him she felt her face growing hot.

Blimey.

“Jesus Christ, this was an insane idea,” he added, hastily.

“Well, we can’t go back now,” Jyn said, shaking her head. “C’mon, mate.Let’s go dance.”

(An hour later, she was still ignoring whatever it was that was in herchest).

Neither of them claimed to be good dancers, but the open bar surehelped. “Honestly, the drunker we get the better,” Jyn had added at one point,seeing as every good wedding had to be ruined by at least someone who got toodrunk to function and eventually rounded off the night with throwing up into anewly gifted vase. Traditionally, the more she and Cassian drank, the more theyembarrassed themselves and the equation only got higher when you added the twoof them together.

It was the perfect combination, really.

“CAN YOU PLAY WEIRD AL’S AMISH PARADISE?” she had screamed at the DJ atone point. “THAT’S THE SONG WE FIRST HAD SEX TO!”

“IT WAS?” Cassian had yelled back.

“JUST GO WITH IT, BABE.”

And so the last hour had resulted in many, many dances to increasinglywedding-inappropriate songs that had the guests roaring with laughter andDanielle no doubt fuming at. Jyn’s memory admittedly got a little fuzzy aroundthe fifth (or maybe sixth?) champagne, but she certainly did remember wrappingherself around Cassian and sloppily making out on the dance floor to the sultrytunes of Big Sean’s ‘I don’t fuck withyou’.

Somewhere between the sixth and seventh drinks, they discovered thephoto booth in the foyer, complete with little basket of novelty props. A largecanvas was mounted on the wall next to it, currently half full with photostrips of varying wedding guests wearing miniature hats and sunglasses. ‘Please help us make our night memorable!’ a small note read above it and Cassian had gotten the idea thistime.

“I’m going to hell for this… but Jyn, would you please make out with mein the photo booth?”

“It’d be my fucking pleasure,” she had declared.

She was still laughing about it afterwards. Their photos they hadpurposefully posted right in the middle of the canvas, complete with thescrawled message of ‘thnx 4 inviting us!’. She had lost Cassian however during a trip to the bathroom, and shetried to not make it too obvious that she was staggering back into the hall,clinging onto the nearest table to stay upright. He wasn’t waiting where shehad left him, and couldn’t see him anywhere near the dance floor. For a moment,she panicked that he had somehow tracked Danielle down somewhere and was busybegging for her back, but no, Danielle was accounted for, currently making therounds and chatting to all of her guests. She caught her eye and Jyn mock wavedwith a grin, only to turn it into a curse when the woman apparently took it asher cue to come over.

“Fucking Jesus, Dani, I’m not drunk enough for this–” she whined.

Danielle stomped to a halt in front of her. The charade was gone. Allpleasantries left at the door. This was the bitch underneath the smiles and shewas apparently not humouring her anymore.

“What is your problem?” she snapped. “Why are you intent on ruining mywedding?”

“Hey, you fuckin’ invited me.”

“I invited Cassian,” she reiterated. “If I’d known he’d be bringing you, I wouldn’t havebothered.”

“Why did you bother, though?” Jyn tried very hard to keep track of theconversation. It was difficult when one could barely stand upright. “I mean,you broke his fucking heart, wasn’t that enough? Did you really have to stompall over it, too? Who the fuck even does that?”

“Oh, like you have literally ANY idea–”

“I see you didn’t answer the question–”

“I never meant to hurt him,” she suddenly bit out. “It wasn’t as if I wanted to cancel my own wedding twoweeks before! No one wants to fucking do that, but I was getting married forall the wrong reasons. Sure, it might’ve helped if I figured out howimmature and insecure I was being a bit earlier, but sorry that I’m a dumbass bitch whotook my sweet time, ok?”

Jyn just stared at Danielle. It really wasn’t the story she had beenexpecting, but maybe it should have been. At the end of the day, Daniellewasn’t a bad person. She was certainly an annoying person, a self-centred andmanipulative person, but never bad. There was a woman in there that Cassian Andor had managed to fall inlove with after all, one that she had reluctantly called a friend. She wasstill in there.

That was good enough for her.

“Ok,” she said, simply.

Danielle nodded before taking the champagne glass out of Jyn’s hands anddraining it herself. “I am happy for you guys, by the way,” she insisted.

“You don’t have to–”

“Nah, it’s fine,” she gave a strained smile. “Honestly, maybe anotherreason I left breaking it off so late is because a part of me was secretlyhoping he would do it first.”

“Why in the hell would he have done that?”

“Because of you,” Danielle shrugged.

She found him outside.

Sat on the steps that led from the ballroom out onto the rolling lawnsof the hotel grounds, his back was only a silhouette but she knew it was him.She clung to the handrail until she could throw herself down beside him,nudging his shoulder lightly. “Hey,” she said. “you disappeared.”

He drew in a shaky, rattling breath, and it was only then she realisedthat he had been crying.

“Oh, fuck,” she said at once.

“I’m fine, Jyn.”

“No you’re not, you’re – oh,god –” She was ill-equipped to deal with emotions on her best of days! Whenshe was drunk, she may as well pat him on the head and say ‘there, there’ forall the good she could do. But still, this was Cassian so she had to try. Shewrapped both her arms around his, hugging it to her body and resting her headagainst his shoulder. Cassian sniffed loudly, rubbing a sleeve across his face,but thankfully not shoving her off. She stayed quiet until eventually, hecalmed down.

“This was supposed to be mine.”

She stayed staring off into the grounds, squeezing his arm tighter.

“All of this, Jyn. The wife, the wedding, the lifetime spent togetherforever, this was supposed to be mine. Where the hell did it all go wrong?”

“It’s not your fault,” Jyn murmured.

“Isn’t it? How did I not realise?” he said. “Honestly, there must havebeen warning signs, things that I ignored or something, because no one just dumps you twoweeks before your wedding out of the blue like that.”

“I just spoke to her,” Jyn mentioned. “Well, I say I spoke to her,it was more like she cornered me… but she said some things. Do you want me totell you?”

He shifted a little and she knew he was glancing down at her. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Jyn, I need to know why she did this.”

She took a deep breath. “She said she realised she was getting marriedfor the wrong reasons. She did love you, but she mentioned the words immatureand insecure, so I’m guessing she only said yes to getting married because itwas the way to hold onto you… maybe she didn’t quite grasp the finality of itall until it hit her…”

Cassian sighed.

“She also mentioned me.”

FUCK.

She hadn’t meant to say that part. Hell, she still didn’t really knowhow to process that particular statement herself, that part was supposed to beburied and ignored for the rest of their given lives! Christ in heaven, youcouldn’t even give drunk her one job! She had no idea what to say to try anddefuse the situation (or even if anything COULD be said) and so she ended upstaying silent, her grip on his arm loosening a little.

When she tried to pull away, he grabbed her hand in the dark and pulledher back, holding it tight.

“Ah, well,” he was apparently going to laugh it off. “We always knew shedidn’t like you.”

“Dunno why,” Jyn said. “I’m a splendid bitch.”

“Look, please don’t think I blame you–”

“Nah, nah, shut up,” Jyn quickly waved past it. “Either way, are you oknow?”

“I’m far from ok,” Cassian mentioned. “but at least I think I’ll be ableto get over it. Someday.”

“Good. Now let’s go bail early to piss her off one last time.”

“Sounds perfect.” Cassian was the first to move, heaving himself up onthe handrail before turning back to her and offering out a hand. Jyn stillwasn’t quite sure what exactly had gone down between them thisevening. More than a nothing, but less than a something… it waslike the idea of the two of them had simply been dangled teasingly infront of her nose and for the first time in her life, she was actually thinkingabout what it would be like to grab it. Jyn felt that undercurrent thatDanielle had always been so afraid of, the one that was currently thrummingbetween them, and the thoughts simultaneously terrified her and thrilled her…

(But they’d be fine. Tomorrow was a new day, and they would wakeup and this would all be fine).

She took his hand.

“Thanks for doing this with me, by the way,” Cassian mentioned in thecar on the way home.

“What, ruining your ex’s wedding for you?”

“Yeah, that,” he snorted. “We never mention the amount of kissing we’vedone to either Bodhi or Kay, by the way.”

“Oh, you can count on it,” Jyn said.

#rebelcaptain #ro fanfic #my fanfiction #LOOK I WROTE WORDS ASJDSJFD WHAT IS THIS #pls reblog me lol

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magic-magpie · 7 years

Text

Say You Love Me

Hey, so I wrote a lil’ UsUk oneshot. ^^ You can find it (and my other fanfics) on my Fanfiction account - AA Addict. Although, I did make that account when I was eleven meaning that most of its content is actual trash. I did a review of my first ever fanfic... I might post it here. I’m good at cringe reviews, but only when the cringe is my own cringe.

It’s 4,304 words, just to let ya know.

“Hey, Artie?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“Likewise.”

“...Aren’t you ever gonna say it back?”

Arthur slumped down into his chair, head in hands. Alfred F. Jones, his American boyfriend, had just stormed out of the apartment after an argument, leaving it feeling rather large, empty, and quiet.

It was an argument over the stupidest of things. Honestly, who cared if Arthur had never uttered the words ‘I love you’?

Alfred did, apparently. And to an extent, so did Arthur.

The first time Alfred had declared his love was five months ago, after four months of dating. They had just come back from dinner at a swish restaurant, and after a round of sweet sex Alfred had blurted it out – ‘I think I love you’. He’d blushed, laid his head on Arthur’s chest so that they weren’t maintaining eye contact, then said in a bit of a whisper, ‘Actually, I definitely love you’. Arthur remembered feeling like he was higher than Cloud Nine, a giddy sensation arising within him and his heart pounding a million beats per minute. He didn’t like to admit it, but he was fairly certain he had abandonment issues (probably due to his past relationships), and hearing Alfred proclaim his love had given him full assurance that Alfred was the one.

At that point, Arthur definitely loved Alfred too. He was happiest when with him, not to mention he felt safe and secure, even when they were doing completely wild activities such as skydiving and bungee-jumping. However, he just couldn’t say it. The words got stuck in his throat every time he tried to say them, he choked on them, his lips refused to allow them to form. He wanted so badly to say it, but failed whenever he tried. And so he only said words akin to ‘likewise’ in response to Alfred’s frequent declarations of love. He felt terrible whenever he did so, for Alfred’s sunny disposition would always become slightly clouded, but what could he do? Alfred had seemed to understand, until now.

“Why do I need to say it back? I’m sure you understand what I mean perfectly.”

“I DO, but it’d still be nice to hear you say it.”

“It’d be nice to hear me say a lot of things, but I won’t say them, will I?”

“Come on! What’s so bad about saying ‘I love you’?!”

“Nothing’s BAD about saying it, I just don’t want to!”

“...You don’t want to?”

“Exactly. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish this embroidery.”

“Say it.”

“For God’s sake Alfred!”

“Say it!”

“No, alright?”

“Just say it, PLEASE! It’s not HARD!”

“It is bloody well hard, I’ll have you know!”

“It’s not hard to say the truth, Arthur! Unless it’s-”

“You know perfectly well that it’s the truth, Alfred, so don’t even go there.”

“Then SAY IT!”

“Life’s not Hollywood, Alfred! We don’t need to give extravagant declarations of love in order to show that it’s there!”

“Come on, just SAY it! For me, then! Say it for the Hollywood sap who’s stuck by you!”

“You don’t get to order me to say anything, git. I don’t want to say it, so get that through your thick skull.”

“...Fine. Later, loser.”

“WHERE are you going?”

“Takin’ a walk. Love ya. Even if you don’t return the feeling.”

Arthur would never forget that expression Alfred had. Disappointment, sadness, anger, all in one. Tears had welled up in his blue eyes.

The first time either of them had made the other cry.

He willed himself not to burst into tears, but it was hard. They’d argued before, but never to the extent that either of them had walked out. The last time he’d had a partner walk out on him, they’d split up the next day. The time before that, his partner had cheated on him. And the first time it happened, he’d never seen the man again. He’d never loved any of them the way he loved Alfred, but it had still hurt.

A wave of panic crashed down on him. What if Alfred did the same?

No, Alfred couldn’t possibly leave him. He’d said ‘I love you’, for crying out loud! And even when walking out he’d reiterated it! There was no way Alfred would break up with him.

Right?

Horrible, terrible images flashed through his mind; Alfred chatting up some bloke at the pub, taking him to a sleazy motel, hands that caressed Arthur’s body tugging at the other man’s belt instead; Alfred deleting all the sneaky pictures he’d taken of Arthur and sending him a break-up text; Alfred never contacting him again; the worst image, however, had to be that awful, ghastly one where Alfred, in his anger and despair, ran out onto the road without looking both left and right and was thrown into the air like a rag doll by a speeding car, dead before he hit the ground.

And that was the image that wouldn’t leave his mind.

Taken over by an overwhelming sense of fear, he reached for his phone and brought up Alfred’s number.

-Alfred?

-Are you there?

He waited with bated breath, his heart in his mouth. Deep down he knew it was stupid to be worrying like this, but there was a minute chance of his imagination becoming reality.

“Come on, reply...” he willed. Arthur didn’t have an iPhone, meaning that he didn’t know whether Alfred was typing or not, so he just hoped against hope that Alfred was either typing, or hadn’t checked his phone.

Suddenly, his notification tone rang out and the screen lit up, informing him that Alfred had responded. Relief washed all over him. Alfred was safe. He opened the text.

-Yeah

His heart sank a little. None of those blasted emoticons or developed replies characteristic of Alfred.

-Good. Don’t die.

Alfred’s response came a couple of seconds later, like he was eagerly awaiting each text too.

-Er what

-You heard me. Don’t bloody die.

-Hella random much

-Out of context, more like.

-Can i get context

-Wait im suppoed t b mad at u

-Its hard

-How dya doit

Arthur was trying to respond with ‘Look, I’m sorry, come back home and we’ll make up, how about that? I’ll take you to McDonalds too, if you want.’, but his insistence at texting with brilliant spelling, grammar, and diction meant Alfred could get his texts in much quicker.

-Ok imma stop txtinf now

-Off to b mad

-Love ya bye

Arthur quickly pressed send, hoping that Alfred wouldn’t be able to resist texting him back, but it was no use. Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen, and before he knew it he’d been staring at the screen for half an hour.

He wasn’t texting back.

Slumping back down into his chair, he was mildly surprised to find that his cheeks were wet with tears. Fuck, that’s not supposed to happen. He furiously wiped them away then glared at his phone. Just who the hell did Alfred think he was, reducing him to blasted tears?

But I made him cry first. Isn’t payback grand?

God, Arthur’s anger wasn’t even justified. It was confusing, sitting there seething and upset when he had no cause to be. He was the one who refused to tell Alfred that he loved him. Alfred made sure that he said the three words at least once each day, usually accompanied by a sweet, chaste kiss. He had every right to be irritated with Arthur, even if Arthur hated it. Stupid Hollywood sap.

“That’s it!” Arthur cried out loud, struck by an insane yet brilliant idea. If he wants a Hollywood declaration, he’ll get a Hollywood declaration! The idea was cheesy, over-the-top, and stupid, just how Alfred liked it.

He jumped out of his chair, strode out of the living room, snatched his keys up, exited his apartment and slammed the door shut a little too hard, got the lift down, marched through the doors, unlocked his sleek black car, and drove. It was late (the time had just gone nine), but he figured Tesco would be open – if the superstore upheld its Open 24/7 policy, that is. He was also incredibly lucky that Valentines Day had been a week ago; there would’ve been no chance of finding these decorations had it been any other time of the year.

Arthur looked around the room, satisfied. Helium heart balloons were dotted around his living room, all bearing some variation of the three words Arthur had such trouble saying. He’d pinned up banners reading ‘I love you’ over the sofa and television, and had sprinkled pink confetti hearts everywhere (some had got stuck in his hair, much to his chagrin). On the dinner table he’d put a candelabra with new red candles, and laid out the table in a manner fit for the Queen.

It made him cringe, but so did Hollywood.

The oven pinged, and Arthur checked out his lamb roast. He frowned; the instructions had said to roast it for an hour after lowering the temperature, but it looked far too raw – he wouldn’t be surprised if it started bleating right there. Furthermore, the potatoes looked undercooked. Honestly, he thought, shoving the cookbook back into his cupboard irritably, who on Earth allowed this travesty to be published?

Letting it cook for a while longer, Arthur went back into the living room and collapsed on the sofa, exhausted. Decorating was no small feat, and it turned out that Tesco hadn’t had any Valentines Day decorations, meaning that he’d had to go drive to every other store until he finally found some. Cooking also took effort, although he didn’t dislike it. No, the most exhausting thing of that night was being distressed. The number of times he’d checked his phone in the vain hope that Alfred had tried to contact him was innumerable, and each time had left him a little bit sadder.

Arthur checked the clock – it was midnight. And Alfred still wasn’t back.

Suppressing the rising paranoia, he busied himself by going over what he’d say to Alfred. First came the apology, of course. Then came the explanation for why he had so much trouble saying the words. And then, finally, he’d say it.

Simple. Theoretically.

Time ticked on, and there was still no sign of Alfred. All he could do was hope that Alfred was planning on coming home and remaining his boyfriend.

He switched the television on and searched through the channels whilst he waited. He flicked past hospital dramas, crime shows, teleshopping, bad films, all of which Arthur abhorred. Not bothered enough to put a film in himself, he just kept it on a Hollywood romance. If he remembered correctly, Alfred and himself had seen it before. They’d been huddled on the sofa sharing a blanket and popcorn, Alfred resting his head on Arthur’s shoulder and periodically lifting it to give Arthur an affronted look as Arthur delivered his scathing commentary on the vapid film. And now, as he watched the movie by himself, it was just as dull and uninteresting.

So dull, in fact, that he could feel his eyes closing. No, stay awake, idiot. He tried to force his eyes open, but they kept battling against him until he finally surrendered to the call of slumber.

Alfred had better be here when I wake up.

“Artie?”

Something was shaking him.

“Artie, I’m back.”

This something sounded nice, if irritating. He tried to push it away, but he was too sleepy to put any sort of effort into it.

“I brought McDonalds, if you haven’t eaten.”

The thing shaking him sounded familiar. The accent, there was something about the accent. It didn’t sound English. More like...

“...Alfred?”

“Yep, it’s me.” Alfred chuckled. His eyes were shut and he was groggy, but he sensed Alfred was close.

Wait.

Alfred was back.

All exhaustion forgotten, he shot up so he was standing and pulled Alfred into a crushing hug, arms wrapped tightly around his body. Relief flooded through his veins as Alfred reciprocated, lacking none of the usual warmth.

“Thank God,” Arthur breathed. He then kissed him hard, keeping their bodies pressed together and swaying on the spot. Alfred tasted of salt and ketchup, weirdly enough, but Arthur didn’t care and just kept kissing him, loving the feel of Alfred’s lips on his, loving how they moved against his in such a way that turned him to jelly, loving how Alfred kissed him with such devotion and love – loving Alfred.

“Hah,” Alfred said once they broke apart for air, “Missed me?”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Arthur replied snippily. Now that the relief and joy of Alfred’s return had sunk in, he was left with the anger of Alfred’s departure. “You can’t just walk out on me!”

“I brought McDonalds back, so it doesn’t matter, eh?” Alfred said, grinning nervously. “Though it does smell like you’ve cooked dinner...”

Arthur blanched. “Shit, the dinner.”

He took out the charred lamb roast whilst Alfred wafted away the smoke, and set the burnt dinner down onto the countertop. Alfred gave a low whistle.

“How long did ya leave that in?”

“What time is it?”

“Half two.”

“Three hours! I knew I shouldn’t have slept,” Arthur said bitterly.

“Hey, cheer up, it’s just as burnt as all your other stuff!” Alfred teased, grinning when Arthur shoved him.

“Shut up, I’m still mad at you.”

“Yeah, about that – how do you even do the angry thing? I tried, and all that ended up happening was me hiding out in McDonalds crying my eyes out wanting to come back. I got free food though, so that’s something. I guess I was angry at you, but not in the way that you do it... You get angry,” Alfred said, laughing slightly.

“You were crying?” Arthur said, stricken.

“Crap. Er, maybe?” Alfred answered sheepishly.

“Because of me.”

“I guess...” Alfred sounded rather reluctant to admit it. Arthur sighed. What was he doing, being angry at Alfred?

“Sorry,” Arthur murmured, brushing a strand of hair out of Alfred’s face. “I’m not a very decent person, am I?”

“No, you are,” Alfred said immediately. Arthur smiled.

“Rhetoric, Alfred. Anyway, you shouldn’t be trying to make me feel better – I should be working to make you okay.”

“Is that what all those decorations were about?”

“Um,” Arthur said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, “Yeah. Cringey Hollywood crap and all.”

“Wait, what? Hollywood?” Alfred looked rather confused.

“Yeah, Hollywood. I thought I’d do something Hollywood-style for you, but the dinner screwed up and I slept, so I’ve forgotten my speech,” Arthur said. “Apologies.”

“Your... Speech?”

“I prepared a speech for when you came home. One with explanations and apologies and all that.”

“Dude,” Alfred said, shaking his head emphatically, “I don’t want a speech. All I want is for you to say you love me, honestly and easily and stuff.”

Alfred was looking at him with those big blue eyes Arthur adored so much - to this day he couldn’t pinpoint what one shade of blue they were. He’d fallen for Alfred a year ago, and ever since then he’d had a fascination with shades of blue. Ever since then, Alfred’s eyes had held all the stars of the universe – the most beautiful, wondrous eyes he’d ever seen. His past boyfriends’ eyes paled in comparison. Arthur had since grown to love every single part of Alfred, both physical and emotional. The way Alfred’s hair caught the sunlight, how Alfred would always try to cheer him up if he was feeling down, Alfred’s intoxicating, infectious laugh... He’d fallen in love with it all.

Just TELL him so!

“Alright,” Arthur said, and took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you.”

Alfred F. Jones, the best boyfriend he’d ever had by far, was looking at him expectantly, a little encouraging smile on his face. Arthur fiddled with the hem of his sleeve, and forced himself to maintain eye contact. It’d be easier to turn away and mutter it, but after everything that had happened, saying it to Alfred’s face was best.

“I,” he swallowed, suddenly feeling very hot and slightly uncomfortable. Come on, spit it out! “Alfred, I – I lo –“ Deep breath.

“I love you.”

He barely had time to see Alfred’s mouth stretch into a huge smile before he was being kissed like he’d never been kissed before. Fuelled by euphoria, Alfred and Arthur were kissing each other hard, Arthur’s hands fisted in Alfred’s hair and Alfred’s arms pulled Arthur close until their bodies were flush against one another. He felt a wonderful dizzying sensation when Alfred parted his lips, eagerly parting his own. Their mouths moved together and tongues worked perfectly to make the other weak at the knees, serving another reminder as to how perfect they were for one another. As they kissed, three words were repeating over and over in his mind – I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you.

After too short a time they were forced to break apart to breathe, but they stayed in the close embrace, Arthur now resting his head on Alfred’s shoulder and Alfred resting his on Arthur’s head. He still felt a little giddy, and... Oddly liberated? Like he’d been pulled out of the crushing depths of the ocean and could breathe freely again.

“See, it wasn’t difficult!” Alfred said happily.

“No, I suppose not... It felt nice, actually,” Arthur said. “I had so much trouble with it because... Well, I haven’t said it before.”

“Seriously?” He sounded surprised, for some reason. Arthur nodded.

“Well, yes. I can’t even remember a time I said it before today, platonically or otherwise.”

“But you’ve had loads of boyfriends before me!”

“Three hardly counts as loads, Alfred. Besides, I – I never loved them like I love you. They were fun for a while, but... I suppose they were right to leave me. I don’t think they were as right for me as you are. Plus,” he smiled a little, “Their departure meant your arrival. And I’d much rather have you, dear.”

“You have no idea how happy I am right now, dude,” Alfred said, and gently prised Arthur off him. “Like, seriously. Just wait here, alright? Or, er...” He looked around at the messy kitchen, “Go into the living room, actually.”

Puzzled, Arthur asked, “What are you doing?”

Alfred was already hurrying out of the kitchen and up the stairs, but he excitedly yelled, “Something I’ve been waiting for this day to do!”

Thoroughly confused, Arthur made his way into the living room where all the sickening heart decorations were. Honestly, he thought, all this fuss and drama over three little simple words. He remembered the way Alfred’s face lit up when he said I love you. His smile grew wider and his eyes sparkled like they contained all the stars of the galaxies.

Alfred burst into the room with a huge grin on his face and his arms behind his back.

“What’re you hiding?”

“You’ll find out in a bit.” Alfred winked. He shoved whatever was in his hands into his pocket and stepped closer to Arthur, put his hands on either side of his waist, thumbs gently stroking him.

“I’ve, er, kinda been waiting for you to say that. Since, like, three months ago. I didn’t pressure you into saying it, did I?” he said, expression oddly solemn. Arthur shook his head firmly.

“Alfred, do you honestly think I’d do something I didn’t want to just because you went out in a huff? I always wanted to say it, I just... Needed a little push, I guess,” Arthur assured. Alfred gave a little relieved smile.

“Cool. ‘Cause, y’know. I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of my life, and then in the afterlife too. We can ghost-kiss and haunt all those homophobes and stuff and just be that super-awesome couple that everyone’s jelly over and, y’know, cool stuff like that.”

“Why do you sound so nervous?” Arthur chuckled.

“You want that too, right?”

“Of course, love. I love you. And, for the record, I have a sneaky suspicion that one of my co-workers is envious of our relationship.”

“Cool.” Alfred closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if readying himself for something. Arthur’s eyes widened and he held his breath as Alfred got down onto one knee and took out a small blue velvet box.

“Are you-“

He opened the box to reveal a beautiful silver ring with a sparkling gemstone in its centre – the exact colour of Alfred’s eyes, he noted. Arthur stared at the ring, then at Alfred, not quite believing what he was seeing.

“Remember when we went to that big fancy mall three months ago – I went off to buy something and you bought your new headphones? Well, I bought this. I was – I was waiting for the day you’d say ‘I love you’ to propose, ‘cause I wanted to make sure you loved me back, and, well,” he gave a little nervous laugh, “You do.”

Arthur was still speechless, so Alfred continued.

“I – I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Being with you, it’s just... I’m the happiest when I’m with you. I know we haven’t been dating for as long as other couples, and I totally understand if you say no, but I think we’re both confident enough that no one’s better for us than the other. I could list the reasons we’re the best couple, but I’d be here a long time so I won’t. But I will say that you’re my favourite person, and I know you feel the same about me. So, I guess I should say the actual words.

“Arthur, will you marry me?”

Arthur was still in shock-mode. Was this happening? It had to be a dream, but there was no way it could be a dream, it was all too wonderfully real, too splendidly vivid. Alfred was actually proposing to him! Alfred actually wanted to spend his entire life with him!

“Those tears are happy tears, right?” Alfred said.

Alfred you fucking perfect idiot.

“Of course I bloody will!” Arthur cried, bending down himself to tackle Alfred into a gleeful hug. Alfred returned it with equal fervour and soon the two were on the floor, hugging and laughing for all they were worth. Arthur kissed him and knew that nobody else’s lips were suited to him, nobody else could hold him like Alfred did, nobody else could make him feel like life was perfect.

“Let’s put the ring on ya, then!” Alfred said, sitting up and picking up the small box. He took out the ring and slipped it onto Arthur’s finger. Arthur held it out so that it sparkled in the light, loving the way it looked incredibly like Alfred’s eyes (only Alfred’s were prettier).

“It’s beautiful.”

“The jewel’s that paraíba tourmaline you told me about once, d’ya remember? You said it looked exactly like my eyes.”

Arthur blinked and peered at the stone. “Oh, so it is!”

“I thought I’d give you one that looked like my eyes, and I got one for myself that looked like yours. So, y’know, it’s all that romantic ‘we’ve always got a little part of the other with us’ stuff.”

“Where’s yours?” Arthur wanted Alfred to wear his.

“Oh, it’s, ah, gimme a second...” he foraged around in his pocket and extracted another box – green velvet this time.

“Here, let me put it on you,” Arthur said eagerly. He took the box and opened it to see a silver band similar to his own, but with a shiny, smooth jade in the centre. Arthur’s breath hitched.

“Do – do you truly think my eyes look this splendid?”

Alfred planted a chaste kiss on his lips and rested his forehead against Arthur’s, looking directly into his eyes. “Well, I actually think your eyes are better, but this was the prettiest green gem I could find,” he said softly.

“Honestly,” he scoffed, trying to hide the fact that he felt all mushy and warm and fluttery inside. Hands shaking slightly, he took the delicate ring out of the box, held Alfred’s hand in his own and slipped the ring onto his finger.

“Beautiful,” Arthur murmured. He put his own ringed hand next to Alfred’s, admiring them.

Engaged.

They were engaged.

Arthur looked up excitedly. “We’re going to get married!”

“I know, right?!” Alfred squealed back. “We’ll have to start handing out invites!“

“And choosing a cake!”

“And getting tuxes!”

“And finding a venue!”

“And planning the decorations!”

“Oh, decorations! We have to have a chandelier!”

“And a chocolate fountain!”

“What about an actual bloody huge fountain!”

“Ohmigod yes, and don’t forget streamers!”

“Confetti!”

“Banners!”

“Orchestra!”

“Lava!”

Arthur spluttered. “Lava?!”

“I got really excited and said the first word that came to my head, don’t blame me!” Alfred laughed.

“No but, making the floor lava would be rather hilarious, don’t you think? And who else would be able to say that they got married on actual molten lava?” Arthur said, grinning.

“If you’re suggesting that we get married in a volcano, then I am one-hundred-and-forty-seven percent behind you.”

“Well, that’s the venue sorted, then.”

They looked at each other, and all of a sudden they were laughing until their sides hurt, laughing in the way that no one else could make them laugh. Alfred’s obnoxious laugh was loud, raucous, and infectious – just the way Arthur liked it.

When they finally stopped laughing, Alfred leant against Arthur and gave a small, content sigh. Arthur responded by putting his arm around him and stroking his hair softly. He still couldn’t believe his luck. He, Arthur Kirkland, was engaged to Alfred Foster Jones.

“Hey, Alfred?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Artie.”

#UsUk #Aph England #Aph America #Fluff #Fanfic #my fanfiction #Oneshot #Cute #what else do i tag

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the-long-lost-ebony-blog · 7 years

Text

my suicide attempt from kinphobia -- really really long post!!

TW FOR SUICIDE, SUICIDE ATTEMPT, HOSPITAL, FRIEND BETRAYAL, DOCTORS, ABUSE, KINPHOBIA, ANXIETY, SELF HARM , PEDOPHILE MENTION, and MAYBE DOXXING!!!

well um. remember a while back when i was all super worried about a girl in chem class almost finding out i'm kin? yeah. it happened. it happened like a month ago. so i actually started being friends with her after she'd obvs had a bad day, like she was just sitting in the hall and i felt sorry for her bc she'd been crying. i started talking to her and asked if she was okay, now at that point she had no idea that i might be kin. i hid it really well! until!! she said that kin itself is a mental illness. and i couldn't help myself. i fuckin went off on her. kin isn't a mental illness, not all kin are mentally ill, etc etc. she just froze up and had this look of absolute disgust on her face. i tried to backpedal and say that she was just using the words wrong, and she was insulting mentally ill ppl but noo, she caught on.

i just sorta made an excuse and left but it turns out that later on, she'd gone onto my facebook which i don't put on here for reasons like this lol. she dug through my timeline and a bunc of old photos and found like... a kin positive graphic from 2009 or something. it was a thing saying that i was "kin and proud" or whatever. (back then i thought i might be therian or otherkin. not fictionkin.))

now, i am in college but for summers i go home to live with my parents. that's where i am now. so here's where it gets worse. tw for stuff above. she went onto their facebook pages and got their emails. and she sent them both email as "a concerned friend". she told them that she was friends with me from class, and that i'd been acting weird lately -- like, not myself, low self esteem, spent all my time talking to strange people on tumblr, took 'a certain satire writing' (my source!! ugh) too seriously, and was really disconnected from reality.

okay so the deal with my parents: they really are supportive of gender stuff (even though i'm a cis girl and was cis in canon) and different sexualities, and disabilities. they are also anti trump and want free health care and wish we did not start shit with russia. like they are not bad people. but in the past , i'd started to ask them for advice on if i was kin. i had to explain what kin was. and they were p much horrified that this exists. they think that it "locks people into fiction and imagined reality" and "stunts their phsyclogical (not sure how to spell) development" and "teaches suffering kids to use escapism instead of therapy or self help". basically they are super ableist when it comes to kin. and they think it's ridiculous that it's actual community. stupid me, i'd literally said (before they said all that) that "i think i'm an otherkin, i feel uncomfortable as i am right now". so i pretended to agree with them on kin being bad. but then when this girl sent them the email.... i was home. with them.

they would not shut up aboout how terrible this was for me, how i was hurting myself, how they never should have let me on tumblr, how they shouldve watched me closer, how i don't owe "these people" anything (you guys are my friends!!!) how this community is toxic, how i badly needed therapy. okay okay -- i need therapy! but it's for depression! not for being ebony!! and it was like this every single fucking day, and a lot of cringe blogs have been posting shots of my blog. that's because she's sent anon tips to them outing me as kin, outed me to my parents, and all the other ppl from class i was friends with? she spred a rumor that i was a pedophile apologist and didn't think authors' work was original, to make them stay away from me. i would have been here on tumblr -- ut they monitored all the stuff i did on the internet. i could only write poetry and watch youtube and like check the fucking weather. and i could shop on amazon. they became so ridiculously strict. it was "to protect me" but no. they refused to udnerstand that kin heps me!

everything came to a head that night. they took a way my laptop, they took away my phone, they made me disconnect from everything that was related to kin. and they sent me to a therapist who was... well. awful. she was blatantly kinphobic, she'd had kin patients before and claimed to have cured them of being kin. this bitch had glowing reviews everywhere. when i insisted that i actually was ebony, she told me that i was taking "imagination as a coping skill" to far. she would not let me explain anything. my parents, who i usually came to for advice and liked, didn't let me explain. any mention of kin was just shut down.

and then i couldn't anymore. i am so sorry, i just couldn't do it. and i was so angry at them. i was angryer at the bitch classmate who outed me to them. i wrote a sucide note telling them that i'd attempted before but kin saved my life, that i was sorry i couldn't be better, that all i ever wanted was to find my true self, that if i couldn't be ebony then i couldnt be at all. TW!! when they were asleep i went down to the medicine cabinet, i put a basket of my favorite things on the table, and i put the letter in it. and then i took.... jeez i dont even know what.

the next thing i knew i was awake in the hospital. god it hurt all over. i just remember feeling super sick but really wanting food, and my head hurt, and it hurt to keep my eyes open. i was just... aching. and i was so disappointed and so scared that i'd failed. i knew my parents were furious with me and i'd never talk to my friends again. when they came in to finally talk to me , well i don't remember what happened. i blocked it out. but i do remember that they weren't angry at me, they were mad at themselves. they are still kinphobic, but they want me to be comfortable with myself without "having to believe i'm ebony".

when i recovered enough to be sent home they spent all their time with me until i said i needed to be alone. so they gave me a break but they came back, they said that they'd read about how to help me. all the advice they got said that they shouldn't isolate me and they shouldnt cut off my contact from my friends. so i'm allowed to be on tumblr a little, i'm allowed to talk about kin a little, they think that i'll grow out of it with lots of help. shutting me down about it will make me restless and i might atempt again.

i am currently in therapy. i dk what my new therapist thinks of kin. i try not to talk about it with her bc i'm scared that she'll be hostile and i'll relapse. overall going to see her is not stressfull as long as i don't alk about being ebony. i just kinda pretend that i don't have a sense of my own identity, so she's trying to help me build one. i did tell her about how i had a frend that spread horrible rumors about me and shared my secrets bc i did something she didn't like, i didn't do anything wrong though. she was really sympathetic bc when she was a teenager, fake friends spread rumors about her being bi and said it meant she was cheating on her boyfriend. so yeah she is helping but kin helps too. i'm not going to tell her about it bc i can't have it taken away from me again.

thats why i've been gone so long. i'm on new meds too, antidepressants, so i might act weird or be emotional a lot. and im trying not to self harm but i slip up and cut sometimes where no one can see it.

i know i have a lot of messages. guys im really really sorry but i have to delete them. there are self care request, have to delete, i'm sorry. it's just.... if i the messages, i feel sick bc it' like i missed a deadline over and over and i feel like people are going to be mad at me and i feel like i cant fix it. if you sent requests, please sent them again SLOWLY over the next couple days. im doing everything i can to get better. but i need your help.

#long post #Suicide #hospital #suicide mention #note #kinphobia #self harm tw #cutting #depression

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notthetoothfairy · 7 years

Text

He’s Got You High

For @a-simple-rainbow. ♥♥♥

She wanted something based on this post: Kurt sends an email to his TA while high on pain meds after a wisdom teeth extraction.

read on AO3

Blaine is in the middle of his theatre history class when his phone signals a new email in his inbox. Discreetly hiding the phone from his instructor’s view by keeping his hands behind a stack of textbooks on his desk, he goes to his email folder and checks the sender.

It reads, Kurt Hummel.

He has to bite his tongue to stop the smile forming on his lips. Kurt is a sophomore, only a year behind Blaine, and takes improv and stage combat class with Blaine. He’s also a student in one of Mme Tibideaux’s more advanced voice studio classes that Blaine miraculously got to be the TA for this year.

To say that Kurt is Blaine’s favorite student would be an understatement – in fact, hopelessly crushing on him is probably more accurate.

It’s not like Blaine is planning to do anything about it, at least not while he’s Kurt’s TA. It would be inappropriate, unprofessional, and probably also really awkward, especially if Kurt isn’t interested.

So, he’s not fooling himself into thinking that Kurt’s email will be anything out of the ordinary. Probably a note of absence or questions about the final exam… though, as Blaine notices with a frown, the subject reads “Paper Eggstension”. Autocorrect maybe? There’s no way Kurt’s spelling is that bad, Blaine has read and graded most of his MUS105 papers.

Glancing at the teacher to ensure he’s still unobserved, Blaine opens the email, intrigued and a bit concerned now. He scans the first few lines and – oh, wow.

Everyone at NYADA knows Kurt is full of surprises and he’s certainly made an impression on Blaine more than once but this…? This has Blaine blushing, giggling under his breath, shaking his head fondly and wanting to check up on Kurt all at once.

To: Blaine Anderson

From: Kurt Hummel

Subject: Paper Eggstension

---

Dear Mr. Blaine,

sry, I forgot your last name because Rachel calls you Mr. Dreamboat! And y would I use your last name anyway? You told us to call you Blaine. Thats a nice name. Blaiiiine.

You said other stuff too. Like that we could send you our MUS105 paper before we send it to Mme Tibidibideaux (I wish she let us call her Blaine too) but only if we dont miss the deadline. Now I gotta tell you: No can-do. But I have an excuse!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know you don’t believe. But you should. Cuz Blaine, u see – I got my teeth removed. The smarty ones. The wisdom teat. Anyway. I got them out. It was brutality. So much pain, worse than when I watched you unfairly lose Midmight Madnesssss against that senior douche, whatever the fuck his name is again. You should have won Blaine. You were better. I think Rachel bribe the judge bc she went out with senior douche… what is hid name? Bobby? Barney?

But PLEASE could I get a few more days, could you ask Mme T.…??? I really wanna do well bc… you see, Mme T., she scares the hell out of me. Ha that rhymes, triple! Cuz I’m awesome. Yes, I am. You can just accept that as fact or you can also go out wih me and see how awesome I am for yourself, your choice (but pick the latter!). But anyway please please pls pls pls can I hand it the paper a bit later? I really cant submit something bad -- and Im afraid they pulled out my brain with the teeth!!!!!!!! I can’t write a well paper without a brain!

My doctor says Ill regret writing emails while Im hai (thats German for shark, funny fact) so I’m gonna stop and hope that you will say yes! Please bro? Oh! Brody. Brodouche. Midnight Madman. Destroy him next time! (He broke up with Rach, he deserves it.)

Thank you, Mr. Blaineboat. I really like you.

Kurt xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Blaine reads the email three times before deciding that he should wait until after class to type out a response. In the state he’s in right now, he’ll probably do something stupid and just write back, Yes to all.

He wants to, of course. He’d give Kurt an extension on his paper and say yes to a date with him in a heartbeat but… he knows he’ll have to convince Mme Tibideaux, sort out his personal TA-student dating policy (and maybe ask around if NYADA has an official take on it) and make sure Kurt really meant to type this and didn’t just do so in the spur of the painkiller-induced moment.

The class can’t end fast enough but as soon as it’s over and Blaine finds a quiet corner in the library to think of what to respond, he blanks, drafting several replies but ending up deleting all of them.

“Goddammit,” he mutters to himself. “Just write something.”

In the end, “something” doesn’t really compare to Shakespeare but Blaine figures that at least he won’t risk his job over it, either.

And maybe, just maybe, Kurt will catch the ambiguity in his words.

“What are you working on?” Rachel asks when she comes back to the loft, arms full of grocery bags that Kurt hopes are filled with veggies for him to make soup with. He seriously craves eating something that isn’t liquid but mushy veggies drowning in hot water really is the maximum of cheating when it comes to his pained cheeks. He knew it was a bad idea to get both upper wisdom teeth out the same day. But it’s too late to complain. At least he has a best friend who brings him soup.

Kurt sighs at the laptop in front of him.

“My paper for Mme Tibideaux,” he responds. “You know I love Sondheim but interpreting his work while physically injured makes me want to kill him.”

“He’s in his mid-eighties, Kurt,” Rachel tells him. “Let an old man be.”

“Ugh.” Kurt rubs his eyes. “The meds are making me tired, though.”

“Why do you even bother writing the paper when you got an extension from Mr. Dreamboat?”

Kurt frowns at Rachel. “Extension? When would I have gotten that?”

“In your email?” Rachel frowns back. “Come on, don’t tell me you chickened out just because you’re in love with him. He’s still our TA, he could probably do something about that deadline, so-”

“I don’t remember writing an email.” Kurt goes to student email and punches in his username and password. “Or getting one back, for that matter. Like, wouldn’t I rem-” He blinks in surprise, catching Blaine’s name in his inbox – twice, even. How high was he, exactly? “Wait, what did I…?” Clicking on the email, bits and pieces come back to him, and he suddenly grabs the couch cushion next to him, holding onto it for dear life. “Oh my god, no.”

“What?”

“Rachel.” Kurt feels the blood draining from his face. “Oh, Jesus, please tell me I didn’t write that…”

He scrolls through the quoted email below Blaine’s short responses (Dear Kurt, thank you for telling me! And yes, of course! I’ll talk to Mme Tibideaux, and get back to you once I know more. Get well soon! All the best, Blaine, and the more recent Dear Kurt, I got a yes from Mme Tibideaux, you’re getting one more week! Best, Blaine) and cringes when he reads the first line.

“I did. Fuuuuuck. Oh god, now I wish Sondheim could kill me.”

“Again, the guy’s, like, 85…” Rachel says slowly. “And why would you- whoa, is that your email to Blaine?”

Kurt doesn’t answer, instead opting to hide his face in his hands.

“You did not tell him we call him Mr. Dreamboat.”

Kurt whimpers.

“You did not ask him out!” Rachel squeals.

Kurt lets out a miserable whine.

“Oh my god, Kurt, you did not tell him you like him and signed the email with a dozen kissing faces!!!”

“WHAT?!” Kurt’s hands fly back to his laptop. He didn’t re-read that part. “Oh my god! I ju- Rachel, I can never go back to that school. I’m such a failure at life, Jesus Christ.”

“You’re very religious all of a sudden.”

“Don’t just sit there mocking me,” Kurt begs. “Tell me it was all just a bad dream.”

Rachel gives him a look of deep, genuine pity. “I really wish I could but I doubt my eyes can never unsee that email. Also, I know you wrote that while you were high on pain meds but I am a bit upset you never told me you didn’t like Brody. Might have saved me some trouble.”

Kurt rolls his eyes at her. “You honestly believe I never brought it up? What do you think we were we having that flea-market chair argument for? And don’t even pretend like you would have called it off with him just because I said something.” Rachel opens her mouth to speak but Kurt shakes his head violently. “It doesn’t matter, anyway – what am I going to do about this?!”

Rachel shrugs. “Kurt, it’s out there. All you can do now is roll with it.”

“In my grave, you mean?”

“In class. To which we’re going tomorrow since you’re so much better already,” Rachel tells him sternly. “Judging by Mr. Dreamb-”

“We can’t call him that anymore,” Kurt says quickly.

“Fine.” She sighs. “Judging by Blaine’s reply, he’s not bothered by it. Who knows, maybe he’s flattered. Or happy about it. It’s not every day you get an email from a cute guy confessing he’s crushing on you.”

“Yeah, right,” Kurt mumbles into the sleeve of his sweater. “As if I stand a chance with him.”

“No time like the present to find out,” Rachel says with finality. “Now, I’m making you soup, and you’re going to put on some Sondheim so you can work on your paper with some fresh insights and maximum concentration.”

It’s a nice thought – but Kurt doesn’t get anything done that night.

Blaine carefully keeps his eyes on his notebook when Rachel and Kurt walk into his class.

He was expecting Kurt to come back today (and no, he did not google how long it takes for people to recover from wisdom teeth extraction – he just asked Sam, who had gotten it done right before moving to New York), and he might have put a little extra effort into looking good today. He never got a response from Kurt, so he figures the guy has either silently acknowledged the paper extension, avoided Blaine for a number of possible reasons or forgotten about the exchange entirely.

Whatever the motivation behind it, Blaine will not despair over it. He’s Kurt’s TA, and as such won’t try anything anyway. NYADA doesn’t seem to have any policy against TAs dating students but nevertheless, he doesn’t want to put either them in an awkward position.

Which doesn’t even take into account the fact that he still doesn’t know whether Kurt remembers asking him out, whether he actually meant it, or whether he intends to ask again.

He might want to wait until Blaine’s no longer his TA as well. That’s alright with Blaine. After all, there’s a month left to this semester, so he can wait. He totally can.

He looks up from his notebook with a smile.

“Hi everyone,” he greets the class. “How are you doing? So, the deadline for your papers is Friday so I hope you’ve all sent me your drafts in case you want me to read them.” He can’t help but let his eyes wander to where Kurt is sitting. “Unless there were any reasons to hand them in late.”

Kurt blinks really quickly at the sudden eye contact, and lets out a nervous laugh.

And Blaine realizes he really totally cannot wait a whole month to get answers to his questions.

Before he can stop himself, he adds, “Everyone with extensions on their papers, please come see me after class.”

Of course, that’s just Kurt, but the class won’t know. Okay, Rachel might know, seeing as she elbows Kurt so hard it almost sends him flying off his seat. Kurt almost doesn’t seem to notice it as he’s busy staring at Blaine with a bit of a twitch in his eye.

Blaine suppresses a groan. This isn’t the plan. What is he doing?

“Blaine, I am so sorry!” Kurt exclaims in misery when the rest of the students slip away after class is over.

He’s beyond glad that Blaine didn’t make him sing any of his pieces today because apart from already being nervous whenever Blaine does ask him to do that, today his anxiety probably would have been the final straw. He might have run off or broken out into tears in front of everyone.

Blaine looks at him with a small smile. “You’ve got nothing to apologize.”

“Uh, yes, I do,” Kurt says stubbornly. He’s beyond mortified; the least Blaine can do is let him apologize properly. “I really didn’t mean to-”

“Oh.” Blaine looks down on the pile of sheet music he was stacking. “Yeah, right. Uhm, seriously though, I know how bad pain killers can be, I don’t blame you for-”

“Oh thank god, you know it was the pain meds,” Kurt breathes out in relief. “I was afraid you’d think-”

“No worries,” Blaine cuts him off. “It’s alright if you didn’t mean any of it.”

Kurt hesitates for a second, and gulps as he takes in Blaine’s slightly shaky hand movement as he stuffs the sheet music into his messenger bag.

“If…?” he asks quietly.

“I mean that,” Blaine says, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Sorry, that, of course.”

Kurt’s at a loss. He’s getting mixed signals, and just judging by the last bit of the exchange – if that was the only thing that had happened, his stupid email and the fact that Blaine is his freaking TA forgotten – he might even be encouraged to inquire further.

But he can’t just admit to meaning all of it, right?

He settles for the safer topic. “So you wanted to speak to me about my paper?” he asks.

“Uh, yes.” Blaine smiles, though he still looks distracted. “I just wanted to ask you whether you had any questions about the material since you couldn’t join us for the last two sessions.”

“I…” Kurt shakes his head. “No, I think I’ve got it covered. Rachel caught me up.”

“Alright. Well, if you have any questions, you can send me an email.”

“Or not,” Kurt says quickly. “I think I’m swearing off emails for a while.”

Blaine laughs, the sound warm and pleasant in Kurt’s ear.

“Right,” he says. “I know this is a bit awkward but… it could have been worse. You could have written that to Mme Tibideaux or Miss July.”

Kurt is so relieved that Blaine is able to joke about it that he replies with a mindless, “Yeah, except I wouldn’t have told them I liked them, so…”

Blaine gapes at him, and Kurt realizes a second to late what he’s implying yet again.

“Oh,” Blaine says. “I, uh-”

“I’ve got to go,” Kurt cuts in, ears burning. “Can I go?”

“Uh, uhm, well, yeah, of course,” Blaine stutters.

As Kurt turns around and gathers his stuff, he can hear Blaine mutter something to himself. Kurt’s almost out the door, when Blaine calls out, “Kurt?”

Kurt turns around gingerly. “Yeah?”

“I really didn’t mind.”

“Okay...”

“Like, really really.”

Kurt wants to scream, But what does that mean?! Instead, he takes a deep breath, collects his thoughts, and says, “Okay… see you in improv, I guess?”

Blaine nods quickly. “Yeah. Later, Kurt.”

“Later, Blaine.”

Blaine is early to improv class, even though it’s all the way across campus. But he didn’t stop for his usual coffee, grabbed a salad to-go instead of lunch with his friends from his dorm, and also maybe, possibly hurried to get to class because Kurt is usually early to everything.

Blaine is the first to arrive, though, so he grabs his usual seat and gets out his salad. He’s about to slice the egg when he hears Kurt’s voice from outside the classroom.

“Talk to you later, Rachel.”

“Okay. And, Kurt, remember to ask-”

“Bye now!”

As soon as Kurt’s through the door, his eyes land on Blaine and he freezes.

“Uh, hi,” he says. His cheeks are slightly red, probably from the cold weather outside. “You’re – uhm, early.”

“Yeah.” Blaine looks down briefly, willing himself to just go for it this time. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Again?” Kurt bites his lip. “I thought-”

“Kurt, when I said yes in the email, I meant yes to both.”

“Both?” Kurt frowns. “I don’t-”

“Both questions. Or requests, I guess.”

Kurt’s eyes widen. “You mean…”

“Yeah, I mean,” Blaine says with as much conviction as possible. “At first, I didn’t want to say anything because, you know, TA and all, but… seeing you in class, knowing, or well, hoping that you meant it, and… I don’t know, I couldn’t wait those four weeks until the semester is over. So I asked you to stay after class but then that felt super shady, too, so… I don’t even really know what I’m doing right now.”

“Do you know what you’re saying, though?” Kurt asks breathlessly.

“Well…” Blaine can’t suppress a grin. “Unlike some people, I’m not on pain meds right now, so, yeah, I’m pretty sure I have full control over my words.”

Kurt glares at him but it’s mostly façade, especially considering he’s still looking like Christmas came a bit early this year, and Blaine… well, Blaine is floored at the thought of being the one to actually make him look like that.

“Well, apparently those pain meds at least made me confess something neither of us could admit to sober, so…”

“Hey, for the record,” Blaine says, getting up to stand in front of Kurt, “I fully intended to ask you out once the semester was over.”

Kurt’s eyes are locked on Blaine with sheer intensity, and Blaine isn’t proud to admit it makes his knees a bit weak.

“Really?” Kurt asks, clearly intrigued, then sighs. “So my email was completely unnecessary.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Blaine says. “I got so many laughs out of it.”

“Oh god, shut up.”

“No, I mean, it – eggstension?” Blaine chuckles. “Wisdom teat? There were some good ones there.”

“What part of shut up-”

Waiting really isn’t Blaine’s strong suit, he realizes, as he leans in to kiss Kurt, four weeks too early to be completely professional, yet about half a year too late considering how long he’s had his eye on him.

Kurt’s protest is muffled against Blaine’s lips, and dies down completely once they press closer together to get better access. They part for air briefly, and Kurt whispers, “When I got up this morning, I would have sworn this would be the last thing I’d ever say, but I’m pretty proud of myself for writing that email now.”

Blaine licks his bottom lip, chasing the faint taste of Kurt there. “I’m glad you wrote it, too.” This whole thing between them has lasted about a minute but he wants more so badly he feels like he’s physically incapable from drawing Kurt back in and kissing him again.

They keep at it until other students start to trickle into the room, and even then they share meaningful glances and press their ankles together between their chairs.

Between all the talking and kissing, Blaine didn’t get to eat his salad, so about halfway through the lecture, his stomach starts growling.

Kurt turns to him with a grin. “Forgot to eat?”

“I guess I was distracted.”

“Hm, by what, I wonder?” Kurt asks cheekily.

Blaine eyes his untouched salad in amusement. “I guess I got pretty egg-sited over this boy I like.”

It’s totally worth all the frustrated elbowing he gets in response.

#a-simple-rainbow #klaine fic #klaine #klaine fanfic #klaine AU #klaine prompt #my klaine fics #THIS IS SO SILLY YET AGAIN #I'M SORRY RAINBOW I APPARENTLY CAN'T WRITE NON-SILLY ANYMORE #but shhh Blaine really loves puns - pass it on #(there might be typos too - they're all unintentional unless they are part of Kurt's email :P)

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