#one of the other things that broke me was she bought one of my nicest paintings and it’s just sitting loose in a chest
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Today was. A lot.
Trying to help my nana clean up her hoarder house and it’s fucking intense. We’re trying to be compassionate but she’s let her animals get to a state where they just go to the bathroom on stuff piled around but she still thinks it can be salvaged.
When asking her whether things are to keep or try to sell she wanted to keep almost everything. The one that broke me was a fucking clown painting. I can understand the magpie tendency to want to keep every shiny piece of glass ever but what the fuck is this?
When she said she wanted to keep it, I broke. “This scary clown?!”
She snapped that this isn’t a lifetime movie and told me to back off and not judge her.
#it’s way past time for her to be in a smaller place without responsibilities but my mom is not willing#and nana is insistent that if we can clean up she’ll be able to maintain it which. yeah right#one of the other things that broke me was she bought one of my nicest paintings and it’s just sitting loose in a chest#another painting of mine is there crumpled because neither of them got framed or anything#so pretty sure I’m gonna steal it back because honestly I’m not that particular but I loved that painting and it’s just gonna get ruined#doubt she’ll ever notice#ramblies#hoarding#my life#hard day
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4*town stalker au part 4: Tae Young
Tw: stalking, cussing
The Aarons and Robaire already done!
-you’ve been receiving anonymous gifts for a while now
-it was sweet, but..
-troubling.
-because they were all so on point
-and so cute
-and handmade
-but you knew for a fact that people close to you enough to know your preferences this deep are not artistic
-not like this atleast
-you had no idea about who could send these so personal and touching gifts
-so you decided
-you’d outplay him
♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡
-you took the little, beautifully wrapped gift from outside
-right in front of your door
-and replaced it with one that you made.
-the ones given to you were usually decorated with little bird feathers
-so you bought a tiny canvas and painted a little bird for him
-you called the gift giver a him
-the worse that can happen is that he’s a girl, so you change it to she
-or them
-you don’t really care
-but you wanted to know who he was
-gender wouldn’t change your admiration
-and kind of scare, but you were optimistic
-so you wrote a little letter with it
-“Hi!! I get every one of your gifts - at least I hope they’re for me - and I really, really appreciate it!! This is my thank you. I thought you’d like it. Tell me if not, I’ll make another one!! ♡︎♡︎ XOXO Y/N”
-this seemed all right
-so you put it on your porch
-which is where he usually puts his gifts
-and also paired another paper and a pencil next to it, in case if he wanted to write back
-and you went to sleep
♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡
-your house was far away from Tae Young’s house
-but getting there worth it for him
-because he could see you
-and give you his gifts every time
-but you giving him a gift?
-he needed to bite his hand so he wouldn’t start screaming in front of your house
-Tae knew that he was in love with you since he saw you for the very first time
-but he never knew how to approach you
-plus you two didn’t have anything to do with each other at all..
-he saw you petting a cat once, then thump-thump
-his heart started beating faster
-he broke out in sweat
-his throat tightened
-and his stomach squeezed
-…
-you were the one
-and Tae was the happiest guy known to mankind right now
-really
-after doing a happy dance all over your porch
-he crouched back down, replaced your gift with his
-still so weird to think about it
-YOUR gift!!
-YOU GAVE HIM A GIFT!!!
-…it’s a gift, right?
-he hopes so
-ANYWAYS
-he’s giggling btw
-Tae sat down on your house’s stairs and opened it
-his phone’s flashlight included
-because it was the middle of the night
-and boy he almost dropped the phone
-this was the nicest thing that anyone has ever did for him
-okay, this was a lie
-but he felt like it right now!
-you were a hundred times more special than other people
-exactly he couldn’t tell why though
-but you were.. you
-…
-and when he read the letter
-he was biting his lips and giggling
-dorky ass
-it’s kinda cute when a guy is a little crazy about a girl
-and this was so adorable
-kinda creepy too..
-but you get it
-but when he got to the end of the letter?
-he threw himself back on your porch
-laying on his back with one hand holding the paper, another his phone to see something
-smiling so widely
-and rolling around
-he looked so cute
-too bad- good that nobody could see him
-Tae read the letter a few more times
-then sat back up
-because he had to reply!!
-so he took the paper and pencil next to him
-and began writing
♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡
-his gifts being the first thing you check in the morning slowly built itself into your morning routine
-but now after you woke up
-your first thing was to rush to your front door
-open it, then check his gift
-his gift, and yours were gone
-so was your note
-but next to his gift, there was the paper you put down just for him
-FUCK YES!!
-you SLAMMED your ass down on the porch
-and read it
-“Hi Y/N!! Don’t even think about making another one, this is the best gift ever!! Or do, I appreciate it!!! And you’re very welcome glad you like them ❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎”
-were his hands shaking while writing it?
-anyways
-he was so kind!
-but he didn’t sign it..
-so you decided to write again
-you wanted to find out more about him
-and you were going to
♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡
♫Pop Star - Coco & Clair Clair
-Tae was so tired already
-all sweaty from moving around all day
-needing to go out for ice cream with Aaron T. five times the whole day..
-he was worn out
-it could be told by the bags under his eyes
-but when he saw a paper on your porch
-he squeaked in adrenaline rush as he ran to it
-quietly, sadly he had to..
-and almost falling three times but that doesn’t matter
-he did fall on his stomach when he got to the letter though
-but he didn’t even feel it
-Tae opened the folded paper like it’s gonna run away
-“I’m glad you like it! How was your day?”
-YOU ASKED ABOUT HIS DAY!!
-Tae was literally swinging his legs around
-reading the letter over and over again
-biting his lips and giggling
-this is ridiculous
-out of all places, he had to do this on your porch
-pfft
-uh okay
-the pencil is still there
-“It was SO tiring. Walked around the whole day just because my friend wanted ice cream. But I got some too at least! How was yours??”
♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡
-you liked his handwriting
-you sat down on your porch with the paper still in your hand
-because let’s be honest you weren’t so athletic..
-and wrote back to him
♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡
♫What You Need - Ashley Sienna
-“Actually kinda chill. Just went out with some friends! But I was hungry the whoooole day D: What’s your name btw??♡︎”
-oh poor you
-Tae felt so bad for you
-but..
-his name??
-oh no..
-Tae could be just enough
-right??
-no, he can’t.
-“EAT!! Please do, you look amazing anyway! Can my name be a secret? ❤︎︎“
-okay
-he really wanted to make you satisfied, but he couldn’t tell his name
-yet
-he was scared..
-…
-but he really wanted to do something for you at least..
-he had no candy with him to put next to the letter and his gift
-his gift was already something, but it was usual
-he wanted to get you something extra for not telling you his name
-…
-Tae walked around your house, to your bedroom’s window
-to put the letter there
-maybe it will feel a little more.. personal?
-not even a little creepy
-no..
-he put the letter under your window as much as he could
-and you would still see it in the morning
-…
-then
-you switch your lights on
-and you’re smirking
-crossing your arms and looking at him
-RIGHT in front of the window
-making eye contact..
-…
-Tae’s sure he just got a massive boner
-but he didn’t have time to think about that, since he screamed so loud
-falling from your window, on his ass
-he must be so lame..
-this will leave such a nasty mental scar on him
-like he was so embarrassed
-oooh fuuuck
-but..
-then you started laughing?
-but it wasn’t the mocking laugh
-no
-it was genuine
-what is HAPPENING
-…
-Tae got lost in the sound of your voice
-you even sounded amazing
-but wait
-you were here
-in front of him
-KNOWING that he’s there!
-“Woah, sorry. Sorry. You just looked so cute, shit.”
-you giggled as you wiped your tears
-wow
-WOW
-you called him cute
-you’re really there
-this was too much.
-someone give him a pillow, he needed to cover his lap up
-wait
-you started climbing thru your window?!
-he started to get up
-he needed to..
-“Hey, hey. Don’t worry babe. I don’t bite.”
-woah
-WOAAAAAH
-you jumped out of your window
-fuck you looked so hot
-and walked over to Tae to..
-hold your hand out to him?
-shit
-SHIT
-good that you couldn’t see him blushing
-because he WAS
-…
-Tae accepted your hand
-wow wow wow
-he’s touching you!!!
-you pulled him up
-and left him breathless.
-and you giggled again
-he’s going to shit himself out of happiness.
-…
-you seemed to accept that Tae didn’t talk yet
-at least couldn’t
-so you grabbed his shoulder to turn him around and dust him off
-you’re touching him
-OH HIS GOD
-you didn’t even leave his ass out?
-and it was obvious that you weren’t trying to be a pervert
-you genuinely cared
-but fuck he could look like a pervert now…
-“Listen..”
-“Hm?!”
-the BUTTERFLIES he just got man..
-you stood back in front of him
-looking into his eyes as much as you could see them in the dark
-he stands in front of you
-wow, he’s here
-you actually met him!
-it was hot.
-really hot.
-and dark
-but you felt and smelt him
-he smelled good
-plus you found his voice cute
-and his outlines looked cute too
-was this really the guy who’s been sneaking up to your house?
-okay let’s not underestimate
-“I..”
-Tae didn’t know where to start
-apologize? Be honest? Cry? Run away?
-he-
-“Ooh, wait.”
-you grabbed his wrist
-YOU GRABBED HIS WRIST
-and dragged him back to your window
-you could just use the door…
-oh
-no
-you grabbed the paper
-and started reading it
-fuck fuck fuck
-you’re going to be so disappointed in him for not telling you his name!!
-oh oh
-what will he do??!
-“My name’s Tae Young!”
-…
-you looked back at him from the paper
-then placed it back to your window
-…
-“Hi. So, like, wanna explain?”
-you let go of his hand
-and it felt so empty
-…
-“If you can’t, no need to, I just wanna know i-“
-“I lose my mind when it comes to you.”
-…
-“Sorry, uh.. listen, I saw you. Once, on the street. Uh, you were petting a cat and I totally fell in love with you. I know this sounds silly, I… I’m not even sure how could I be serious about this, this is creepy. But I couldn’t resist. You’re…”
-…
-“I find no words for you.”
-his voice was soft
-so so so soft and sincere
-“Shit, sorry. Uhm..”
-…
-“Everything happens. So much.”
-that didn’t make sense
-if you don’t get him
-but you did
-you perfectly did, and agreed with him
-…
-“Well, why not come in for something to drink then? To… soothe the everything going on.”
-Tae’s head perked up
-and his heart missed a beat
-“I mean, I never had a guy actually do things like this for me before. So I suppose, we could see where this goes.”
-you weren’t disgusted?
-and you were about what he did and not how he looks because you don’t see shit?
-and you just gave him a chance?!
-…
-“Okay. Let’s do that.”
♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡
You invited Tae in, gave him a cup of tea and sat him down to talk
Turns out, you two actually get along well?!
So you gave him your number, because you knew that he wouldn’t have the balls to give you his
And you two talked!
Then after a while, dated
Aww
Tae was so shocked that it finally worked out for him with a girl
Plus with a girl that he, for some reason, fucking stalked? Wow
He was never really this desperate about any of his crushes
That’s why he started feeling bad, really bad
And he apologized, like a hundred times
But you forgave him, because you saw that he wasn’t a bad guy. He just didn’t know what to do
And he will always be grateful for this
He will be grateful for you
Because damn nobody cooked like you did
Nobody washed his clothes like you did
Nobody comforted him like you did
Nobody fucked him like you did
And damn he could never imagine anybody raising and caring for you two’s children like you did💕
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oh my gosh, on one hand i love the powerpuff trio but on the other, i kind of wonder what reina being on the same team as minato would be like
They were already friends in the Academy, Reina being one of the very few people to realize that the quiet blond boy who always had his head in the clouds was actually terrifyingly intelligent. As such, she always made sure to ask his opinion on things and it wasn’t long before she went from merely listening, with an occasional interjected comment or clarifying question, to actively challenging his theories and sharing her own (she has quite a few. It’s not like she had anything else to do those first few months after being reborn, trapped in the body of a baby who couldn’t even walk).
On Minato’s part, well, even as a child he was naturally charismatic enough, likable enough, to be friendly with most of his class (Uzumaki Kushina being a notable exception) but Reina’s the only person he’d really consider a friend. He’s smart enough to realize she’s hiding something, that there’s more to her knowledge than natural intelligence (no, there’s wisdom and experience and all the things a 6 year old shouldn’t have), but he respects her enough not to pry (and he’s patient enough to wait for her to open up on her own). When genin teams are assigned, he doesn’t exactly hope for her to be on his team— after all, that would be unprofessional, as a shinobi he should have no preference who his teammates are— but he can’t help the automatic relaxing of his shoulders when her name is called all the same.
Honestly, they were never supposed to pass, which was the only reason Jiraiya had agreed to take on a genin team in the first place. They consisted of Namikaze Minato, an orphan from a civilian family, Yamada Haru, a remarkably unremarkable boy with two career genin parents who’d just barely passed the genin exam, and Kobayashi Reina, a civilian girl from a long line of civilian bakers. The odds were stacked against them from the start, and yet—
They’d passed with flying colors. And once his arm recovered function from that short one trying to paralyze him, he might even admit to being impressed.
Jiraiya’s not quite sure how it happened, but somehow, somewhere down the line he finds himself cajoled in attending family dinner night at the Kobayashi household at least once a week (his female student, he’s discovering, is remarkably good at getting what she wants when she sets her mind to it).
(“Here,” Reina said, thrusting an envelope at him. Jiraiya glanced at it, confused.
“What is this?” He asked, noting his name written on top in what looked like a neater version of Reina’s handwriting.
“An invitation to dinner at my parents’ house at 6 this Saturday. I gave one to Minato-kun and Haru-kun earlier,” she explained.
“Ah, I don’t know about this, Reina-chan,” Jiraiya said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I might be—”
“Just think about it?” Reina interrupted. She looked up at him pleadingly, eyes appearing almost unnaturally luminescent behind those thick glasses of hers. “I understand if you can’t make it, of course, but I’d really love to see you there, sensei. It’d mean a lot to me.”
Which was how he’d found himself frantically digging through his closet for his nicest shirt (one Tsunade had bought him a few years back) at 5:52 p.m., cursing up a storm. He’d shown up at exactly 5:59 with a bottle of wine in one hand, palms sweaty and feeling slightly nauseous (which was completely ridiculous. He was one of Sannin, an S-ranked ninja, he’d fought and won thousands of battles— he had no idea why he was feeling so nervous about attending a civilian family dinner, of all things).
“I—” He cleared his throat when the door opened, revealing Reina with Minato at her back. “I brought wine?”
“Sensei!” She broke into a beaming smile at the sight of him. Jiraiya felt something alarmingly warm fill his chest. “You made it! Come in, come in!”
“You didn’t need to bring a gift, although I appreciate the thought,” she added, before glancing at him, a teasing glint in her eyes. “Just…don’t hit on my mom, okay?”
Jiraiya choked on a laugh as Reina reached out to grab his wrist, pulling him inside.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised.)
As for Minato, Reina decided that him going home to an empty apartment was completely unacceptable and so he ends up having dinner at the Kobayashi house almost every day. Reina’s mother dotes on him and her father sneaks extra pastries into his coat every time he visits. To Minato, Reina will always be the person who gave him a family— and he will always, always be indebted to her for that. After they become chuunin they decide to move into an apartment together (where Reina discovers to her exasperation that for all his genius, Minato is astoundingly dumb at basic, household common sense things like turning the stove off after he cooks). She’s somewhere between best friend and sister to him, and as such, he’s extremely protective of her (which complicated the Hyuuga matter somewhat. He knows her well enough to see through her fury at the Caged Bird seal to the sheer sadness underneath at witnessing what family members could inflict on one another. Had it been just anger, he could’ve dealt with the issue more rationally, but sadness? He’s never been able to stand seeing her in pain).
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I DONT HAVE TO RESTART WOO!!!
last post
so i was just being a dumbass and had to look up a youtube no commentary walkthrough to figure out you could actually climb the sunflower the ghost was next to :D
this bought me to an area where i walked inside a building and saw what i assume was a memory?
or more just demons representing a memory. or maybe just demons living
one demon said stuff kind things like "have you drank water?" while the other was just cooking,, either way the fact i lit the vines covering the entrance on fire gave me my last request done. im gonna explore it later
WILARDO IN CNADY LAND!!!!!! OMOMOMOMOMO FUCK IT UP
sorry for the salmonella wilardo but hey u helped a demon get eaten its a gigachad moment (also pushed a button that opened up a new door so hopefully i wont have to struggle with requests again)
this game is so weird one time ur just walking around cronching raw gingerbread men the next ur running away from ashe’s ass
HELHPFKLGKRJGEWJRE ABOUT ASHE THE GUY CALLED THE MONSTERS CUTE AND A DEMON FR BROKE THE VASE ON THE TABLE WHERE HE WAS SITTING AT,,,,, HE RAN SO FASTJFGIOEWJR32
I LOVE HIM (kinda)
walked into mr funny man’s (sirius) room and apparently ashe did not too long ago. literally bitches with the same thoughts but doing it in the most sus ways possible
huh that’s actually kinda wholesome im glad wilardo didn’t mind
how long ago did lady dorothy leave if the spells on the doors still hold up?? im assuming a long time ago but
GOING INTO CYAN BRAID MAN’S ROOM!!!!!!!!!!!!
worsties absolute worsties i love how they talk to each other,, ashe is a lot more obviously off putting in this one dang
couldnt have said it better king
claire’s out of her room,,
and it’s locked after i finished the requests w
OKAY CLAIRE WAS JUST LOOKING OUT A WINDOW AND HAVING ANXIETY BUT SINCE SHE TOOK WILARDO’S WORDS IN THE NICEST WAY POSSIBLE THEY’RE SWEET
we just ended up fighting another monster except i died a couple times getting used to the pattern i love the gun but its so painful for me to work with
claire’s healing cg <3 i love her
wilardo’s growing on me a lot too!
claire just fell asleep while washing the dishes i should bully her
anyway noel’s lying through his teeth again. it reminds me of how he said that sirius was going to die, him next, then claire
how does he know that?? it makes me so wary but in the worried way. im sure he cares for claire and everybody but where the hell does he go every morning and noon
explored and completed my requests! !! cant wait to go thru the chocolate door and
oh
shes gonna kill me fr
ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE THOUGH I LOVE THE DESIGNS WITH THE DEMON SPRITES
her names lime is it bad i rlly like that name,, sadly the way she talks and taste is funky
OH.
i cant say im surprised but still doesnt that hurt?
day 3!!
right before bed zizel read a story to claire well not really even a story
just a bunch of people sacrificing themselves for a witch and the town becoming famously haunted
fun
i like zizel but she’s definitely a demon through and through
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A Few Things I Think About Differently Now That I’m Older
Aaron Burch
How, when we’d return to California to visit family in the summers, my dad would drive us around on little nostalgia tours — that’s where I went to high school, this was the strip we’d cruise on the weekends, that used to be our favorite burger joint…
The wooden model NASA space shuttle, hand-carved and -painted by my uncle, given to me as a gift in my preteen years; knocked off a shelf when I was a teenager, resulting in a broken fin and a few chips in the paint; left behind when I moved out of the house for college; and which is still in one of my parents’ closets, I presume.
Every sketchpad and package of pens and pencils and little kid watercolor set and every other art supply that my parents ever bought me.
How every Sunday was for chores, my brother and I tasked with cleaning our rooms or yardwork when it was nice out or sprinkling down deodorizing carpet freshener powder and vacuuming or moving framed photos and knickknacks and other small pieces of décor and spraying wood cleaner onto old rags and washcloths and wiping down tabletops and the fireplace mantel and windowsills.
The boxy 80s cars I grew up with and hated at the time—my grandmother’s giant blue Ford boat of a car that I thought was so big and ugly and grandparenty that my mom and grandmother would tease was going to become my car, as a punishment; my dad’s ugly Datsun station wagon that I didn’t understand why anyone (much less my dad) would ever purchase; my grandmother’s mid80s Mustang that she gave me when I got my driver’s license, which I loved but also treated like shit and also never understood how it could be the same make and model as such cool muscle cars from the 60s and 70s.
Every weekend that we drove a few hours to go camping or hiking or fishing or to some festival that I didn’t really care about—blues, bluegrass, kite, etc.—or to go on some kind of tour—chocolatier, cheese, brewery, candy, etc.
All the toys and report cards and baseball cards and photos that are still in my parents’ various closets.
The coffee table made by my grandfather that I took with me when I moved to California with my girlfriend-at-the-time after college and that I’m not sure what happened to after we broke up and I moved out but that was the nicest piece of furniture I’ve ever owned.
Eating healthy, exercise, drinking water, going to the dentist, sunscreen.
The smell of that Arm & Hammer carpet freshening powder, that Old English wood spray.
All the sports equipment and league fees and Taekwondo lessons and tournament fees and travel costs, often whether they could really afford it or not, whether it meant borrowing money from their parents or my dad working overtime or skimping on something else that I probably didn’t know about at the time, always so supportive and encouraging in every endeavor I wanted to try.
Aaron Burch's first novel, Year of the Buffalo, is out this month from American Buffalo Books. Recent short work (fiction and non) has appeared or is forthcoming in Hex, Menagerie Magazine, Complete Sentence, and Schuylkill Valley Journal. He is (too) on Twitter @aaron__burch and on the world wide web at aaronburch.net. The last time he visited Washington with his girlfriend, he felt a deep desire to drive her around and show her the house he grew up in, where he went to high school, his favorite teenage skate spots. He often wishes he took better care of things—probably most especially himself and also those things made and given to him by loved ones—when younger. His apartment is a mess, which only highlights the pleasures of when it is clean, and while he sometimes fears the slide from packrat to hoarder, he loves looking through his old ticket stubs and notebooks and other ephemera he has collected and kept over the years. He started painting again in the last couple of years, after not making any visual art since he was a teenager. He has written about this before, but he thinks often, and more and more every year, about how loving and supportive his parents were and still are, having always encouraged him to seek and follow passions and all those things in life that bring him joy, which he is hesitant to say he ever took for granted but will be the first to tell you he has only become both more aware and appreciative of as he has gotten older.
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I don't know if you're taking requests but your smut with Michael and virgin reader was MINDBLOWING and perfect and I wonder would you write a thing like that with Tommy, too? If not it's fine of course ;)
I kinda have an oneshot already like that, but here’s a little extra ;)
warnings: virgin reader, smutt (minors don't interact!), fingering, fluff.
The first time you saw Michael, it was in a club in London, your girlfriends dragged you in. They’ve been insisting since you were the only one left who never got drunk before turning 20 years old. And even though you assured them that you could have fun without drinking, you followed them and got drunk. The night was crazy and the drinks flowing. You looked for a partner to dance with and you saw him. Starring at you. And all of a sudden, everything went quiet around you. His piercing eyes sobered you up as you walked towards him.
“H-hello” you stammered.
“Good evening” he respond much more confident than you, taking your hand in his to lightly kiss the top of it. You watched him in awe, feeling little tickles where he lingered his lips on your hand.
“D’you want to dance ? With m-me ?” you managed to say.
“With pleasure”. He led you to the dance floor, pushing away all of the other dancers.
He stood before you and gently pulled you against him with his hand on your back. With his other palm on yours, he started spinning you two delicately, taking his time.
“What’s your name ?” he asked, his hot breath fanning your lips.
“Oh yes, sorry, I didn’t introduce myself... I-I’m Y/N” you felt your cheeks heating up, and you wished he wouldn’t see it.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Michael” he smiled.
“Michael” you repeated as if you wanted to imbibe it. You felt his body stiffening lightly.
“I like the sound of my name on your lips”. If your cheeks were not already pink, now they were definitely red. You both continued to dance while starring at each other, and smiling and feeling your heartbeats grow faster the more the other was talking.
“Y/N we need to go !” one of your friend interrupted.
“What ? What’s happening ?” you panicked.
“Mary is too drunk, she’s starting to go insane ! Let’s go !” she started to pull on your hand, as you reached for Michael’s.
“I’m so sorry-”
“It’s alright love, where do you live ?” he hastened to ask, seeing you slowly walked away, dragged by your friend.
“I just moved to Birmingham, find me !” you responded as you let go of his hand.
“I will” Michael muttered to himself. And he did. A couple of days later, he found you in your favourite boutique, shopping for a new pair of gloves. That’s when you knew that you both had something special.
Now it’s been eight months that you are in a relationship and everything was perfect. Well, almost. You never had sex with him. Or with anyone else actually. You keep pushing this moment because you feel too different from Michael. You know what he and his family do for a living, and even though it doesn’t scare you, you still feel like you come from two completely different worlds. So you thought that once you two will make love, he’ll go. Yes, it is silly, because if it was the case, Michael would have never stayed this long with you, and he would never say the sweetest things he says to you everyday, that make you feel loved and special.
But tonight was a big night. It was his birthday and you finally built yourself up to talk to him and maybe, if he agrees, have sex. You put your nicest gown - actually the one he bought you on your birthday - and joined him in the living room, where he was waited for you. Sipping on his beloved whisky, Michael turned to see you walking through the door. Suddenly, the room was more luminous, and his soul at peace, thanks to your presence.
“Y/N, darling, you look stunning” he complimented you, taking your hands in his. You smiled bright as he made you twirl to look at you.
“Happy birthday Michael” you softly said, deposing a light kiss on his lips.
“It really is” he smirked, sliding on the silk of your dress his hands on your lower back, and kissing you. “We should go, I don’t want my mum to murder us on my birthday” he chuckled and so did you.
The evening was perfect as usual. Full of champagne, good food, and excellent company. Michael never stopped touching you, wether it was by resting his hand on your thigh, or kissing your cheek, or lacing your fingers together. He simply couldn’t let you go.
The night came eventually to an end, and after wishing everybody a goodnight, Michael and you drove home. Your laughters broke the deadly silence of the house, as you climbed up to your bedroom. Michael held you in his arms kissing you.
“You looked so beautiful tonight, Y/N” he whispered against your lips, and you felt your heart beating faster. Your skin was hot and your mind going crazy. “You always look so beautiful” he continued, deposing light traces of lips on your neck, earning from you a whimper.
“Michael...” you exhaled. “I want you” he stopped his movements and looked at you in the eyes.
“What did you say ?”
Feeling suddenly very insecure you tried to brush it away “I-I don’t know, it was stupid, never mind-” you were cut by the crash of his mouth on yours and you fell for it again.
“Y/N, what did you say ?” he repeated his question. You understood that there was no reason to hide. Not in front of him.
“I s-said... I love you” you laced your arms around his neck and continued “and I want you. Like I never had you before.” You felt Michael’s heart knocking on your chest, his eyes glistening in the small lights of the room.
“I love you too, honey. Are you sure you’re ready ?” he cupped your warm face in his hands, trying to transfer all the love he has for you in his touch. And you felt it. You nodded confidently before kissing him again. This time, the kiss got heated, stronger and stronger. Hands sliding on each other body for the first time this way, discovering places they never been to.
“Did you ever touch yourself, love ?” he asked out of breath. You nodded shyly.
“Nights I couldn’t be with you... I was missing you and thinking about you, so I, um,.. tried things” Michael grunted at your confessions.
“And did you enjoy it ? What did you do ?” he attacked back your neck, sucking sensually on your sweet spot, causing you to not be able to answer for a couple of seconds.
“I-I slid my hands between my thighs and played with m-my...”
“Clit ?” he guessed. You hummed confirming it. “Um, good. Did you slid your pretty little fingers in you ?”
You shook your head no “I was too scared.”
After a few seconds, Michael cupped your face, swiping lightly your bottom lip “would you let me do that ?” exhaling a shaky breath you moaned, saying yes. “please, I need to hear it, loud and clear. Do you want me to finger you ?”
“Yes. Yes, Michael I want you to finger me. Please...” you whispered like a pray the last word.
This was all Michael needed to lead to the bed while taking off your dress and your bra. He laid you down gently, his lips never leaving your skin. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m already loosing my mind.” his hands slid past your breast after giving it a light squeeze, on your stomach, your waist and everywhere he could feel you.
He then reached your panties resting his fingers on top them. “Are you okay with this ?”
“More than okay” you moaned and he chuckled.
“If I do something wrong, I hurt you or you want to stop, tell me. Never hesitate. Do you hear me, baby ?”
“I will, but Michael I trust you.” you cupped his face and stared in his eyes with all the love you could possibly collect. He kissed you adoringly before taking off your panties, leaving you completely bare in front of him.
His fingers spread your lips and collected your wetness earning from you both moans and grunts. “Fuck, doll, I can’t wait to make this pussy mine”. Michael started to play with your clit just you can relax and realise how much of an expert he already is. You quickly turned into a moaning mess, holding onto his biceps. “That’s it, Y/N baby, let yourself go. I’m right here”
“Um, Michael,...”
“Yes, love ?” he kissed your cheek.
“You can.. can you put your fingers in me ?” you whimpered.
“Fuck, yes” slowly he guided his middle finger to your entrance and pushed inside. The feeling was odd first but than Michael started to pump delicately and it transformed in pure pleasure. “Love, you feel so warm and tight, fuck, I can’t wait to have my dick inside that pretty pussy of yours”
Michael played with both your clit and vagina in order to build your orgasm, which was quick to arrive. You felt this sensual sweetness coming, the same one you have when you were alone thinking about your lover.
“Mike, I’m gonna-” but before you could released your orgasm, Michael took his fingers away from your pussy. Confused, you looked at him with big eyes.
“Don’t worry baby, I just want to make you cum with you around my dick” he smirked. He took his clothes off, while you watched him in awe. He was magnificent. Slightly glowing because of the thin layer of sweat on his torso. He pushed his pants down, leaving him in just his underwear. “Do you want to take it off ?” he proposed. You swallowed and nodded eagerly. “Alright, come here” he chuckled.
You got closer to him on the mattress and he took your hands in his, to place them on his abs. He then let them do whatever you wanted. And what you wanted was to see him as naked as you were. So you pushed his underpants, freeing his shaft. You both stopped breathing, knowing what was coming next. Michael did the first move and leaned over you.
“We can stop if you want, darling. There’s no rush.” he whispered before kissing you. “I already had the best birthday ever” he chuckled and so did you. But your were determined (and horny).
“No I want this Michael, I want this so much” you responded pulling his face closer. He smiled and pushed you delicately on the mattress.
“You have the most beautiful body in the whole fucking world, princess” he worshipped you between kisses “I’m so fucking lucky”. Your hands wandered over his back and torso, discovering his body like you never did before.
“I think I’m getting addicted to you, Michael”
“That’s an excellent thing, darling.” he chuckled. He continued kissing before adjusting his position above you. “Are you ready ?” he locked his eyes on your and waited your response.
“Yes, baby” you said in a shaky breath. Michael nodded and slowly entered you. As he grunted and you moaned, you tried to not think of the slight pain. Michael didn’t move for a few seconds to let you adjust, but you thought that with movements the pain would fade. And it did. The pleasure replaced the discomfort and all you could think about was how full you felt.
“You’re so snugged around my cock baby doll, fuck, it feels so good” Michael grunted in your ear, sending you shivers. “So tight and wet, shit”. You couldn’t respond to anything, too overwhelmed by all those new feelings. Your heart grew bigger with every thrusts Michael made. You were so happy to share this part of you with him.
“I can’t believe I’m your first one, baby. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure to be your only ever.” he smirked and felt your walls clench. “Oh you like this idea don’t you naughty girl ? You want me to be yours forever uh ?”
“Yes !” you screamed finally abled to let out another sound than your moans. “B-be mine, and I’ll be -fuck- yours” his body tensed and his thrust became more frantic yet not rough, too scared to hurt you. Never the less, you felt your orgasm building in you. “Michael I’m-”
“I know love, I feel it. I feel you. Cum for me princess and be mine. Do it, I’m right here” you shut your eyes and digged your nails in the flesh of his muscular back, holding on to whatever you could. You let your pleasure wash over you, welcoming it for the first time. Your moans and whimpers pushed Michael to chase his on orgasm. He pulled out quickly but was careful not to hurt you, and started to pump himself.
“Can I cum on your stomach baby ?” he asked, his voice cracking. You nodded, eager to finally see him undone. His pumps became quicker until he released his load on you with a loud grunt. His seed landed on your belly and you jolted feeling the odd warm texture. When he finished you didn’t hesitate and collected his cum with your fingertips. Michael was panting as he watched you amazed by this new side of you. This side that was discovering what two lovers could do. You wrapped your lips around your fingers and tasted his juice. It was salty and like no other thing, but that only made you even more greedy for it. It was Michael. “You’re already starting to turn into a good girl, baby. I don’t know if it’ll be necessary for me to teach you anything” he chuckled before using his shirt to take off the rest of his cum from your body. He laid on the bed and pulled you close to his chest.
“Thank you for being my first Michael.” you whispered drawing circles on his peck as you listened to his heartbeat calming down.
“Truly my dear, it was my pleasure” he smiled against the top of your head. “Thank you for giving me that part of you. I love you so much”
“You have all parts of me Michael, I love you too.” you lifted your head and kissed his lips tenderly.
“I’m yours, Y/N, forever. I found you, I won’t let you go” he kissed you back before you both fell asleep, your bodies tangled, forming one soul, forever.
#Michael gray x reader#Michael Gray imagine#Michael gray smut#micheal gray#peaky blinder fanfic#michael gray request#ask request#Michael gray fluff#michael gray one shot
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𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐒/𝐎 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦
𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑎𝑙𝑐𝑜ℎ𝑜𝑙 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 (𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑖'𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔), 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡𝑦
𝐺𝐼𝐹𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑠
⩥ 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠
„Y/N pass me the bottle.”
Said the stern voice of your best friend Hongjoong, you were at a bar, with your other friends, celebrating Hongjoong's career success.
He finally got the chance to join a musical company and fulfil his dream of becoming an artist and a song producer.
Seeing your best friend happy that his dreams came true made you sincerely happy of course, but a small part of you was kinda sad about that.
Hongjoong has been your crush since you two were kids and now, that he is going to become a well-known artist, he'll for sure find some hot idol-model girlfriend and your love will go in the drain.
Maybe it was the alcohol in your blood, maybe the pent up rage and courage that made you confess.
„I have a confession to make... I-i love you Kim Hongjoong.”
Everyone looked up at you in disbelief, it was until you felt your stomach tightening from embarrassment, urging you to vomit, running out of the room to a restroom to push it out, without knowing Hongjoong was following you.
As he saw you scrunched and hugging the toilet he came to you, to hold your hair from falling into your face.
„I may like you too, but that's something we'll talk about once you are sober."
⩥ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚
„Oh, come on, it would be fun, trust me.” Bullshit.
Going out with your best friend Seonghwa and his crush "to support him" was never a good idea.
Not only did you have to observe the cringiness of Seonghwa's love blind actions, but also see his crush treating him so poorly since she clearly did not have any interest in him.
As the movie ended and it was time for you to go home, you stood in front of the cinema with Seonghwa as he bid goodbye to the girl.
„Bye, be careful on your way home and have sweet dreams, I hope we could go out on another date soon.”
„Ah yeah, sure, bye."
You sighed softly, how could he not see the disinterest. As he turned to you, to thank you for helping him overcome this evening, your words stopped him before he could even start.
„Seonghwa, please stop hurting yourself by loving someone who's clearly not interested, when I've been showing you affection and interest for two years."
„What? Yo-you like me?”
As you realised what you've just said, earlobes and cheeks turning red from the embarrassment.
„I mean... kind of.”
⩥ 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨
„Y/N, I'm waiting outside the house, come on, let's go.” said Yunho over a phonecall.
You were celebrating the end of the semester with your classmates, and since you've had some drinks in you and despite that, you didn't know how to drive, you had to call your friend and deep-down also crush Yunho either way.
Rushing out to finally see your crush, you were met with the breath-taking sight of Yunho leaning to his car, one hand scrolling through his phone, the second one chilling in his pockets.
„Yuyu, my love, you’re here.”
„Gosh, Y/N you’re so drunk, I’m glad you called me and didn’t try to go home on your own. I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened.“
„But nothing happened since I called that handsome guy I love.“
Yunho shook his head at your drunk talk, were you talking about him? Not knowing the sincerity of your words, but in the depth of his soul, he hoped the words that came out of your mouth were true...
⩥ 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠
„Happy Birthday dear Mr. Kang, happy birthday to you.“
Handclap noisier than the song of celebration for your boss, Kang Yeosang.
Although being a CEO, he was really warm-hearted and kind, not like the basic CEO type who’s cold and arrogant.
Being his secretary helped you to get to know him better over the years, but also made you grow feelings for him. You sometimes just zoned out and stared at his handsome face for hours, just like now.
„Y/N, can you please follow me to my office, I need to talk to you.“
You had no idea what Yeosang wanted to talk about, feeling only one emotion. Fear. Did he find out you like him? Did you do something wrong? Is he going to fire you? As he closed the door after you two, you couldn’t even look him in the eye, rather observing your high-heels.
„Y/N, what’s with you these days? You seem... different. Your mood’s been down lately, you’re impercipient. You know you can tell me anything, i want my most important employee to be happy.“
Employee. That’s all you were.
„I know you’re probably gonna get mad and I fully understand, feel free to fire me, but truth to be told, over the years I’ve been working for you, I grew feelings and I just can’t get over it... I-I love you, Mr. Kang.“
Yeosang’s face went pale, absorbing the words you’ve just said, mind going blank from the sudden confession.
„I don’t know what to say, Y/N. I mean... you’re a nice, young, hardworking girl, but.. I-I might need a few days to let it sink and think it over.“
⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧
San's hips moved to the rhythm of the music, his hands on the waist of some random girl, their sensual dancing just irritating you.
It wasn't like you and San were dating or anything, but you still couldn't stand the thought of him being with anyone else. An annoyed groan coming out of your mouth as you picked your glass and took a shot to drink away those thoughts. San taking the girl by her hand and coming your way.
„Hey Y/N I just wanted to say goodbye, since I’m leaving with Sora to my place, if you need anything you can call, but I don’t think I’ll be able to pick up, since my hands will have other work to do, so rather try Seonghwa.“
„Yeah, I thought so, just don’t forget to wear a condom when you get your dick wet, cuz it looks like you’ll end up with STD.“ you responded, rolling your eyes at him.
„Why are you so rude and foul today, are you jealous because I get some pussy and you’re left with no dick because no one wants to approach you since you’re so mean? Get your act together and we can talk tomorrow.“
„No San, you want to know why am I so cheeky? It’s because I have to watch the man I love fuck around with a random hooker. Go enjoy your dick appointment now, you must be busy.“ Without thinking of it any more, you left him there, your aura for sure full of pure rage.
⩥ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠
„Ew fuck no, Yeosang that’s nasty, I wish I could go back in time to five minutes ago when I didn’t hear this confession“ laughed Wooyoung at Yeosang’s confession in the game truth or dare.
Wooyoung took the bottle from Jongho’s hand, ready to spin the bottle and let it pick another victim of his stupid asks and dares. Spinning the bottle, it landed on you. Wooyoung's eyes already glistening from the excitement of daring or asking you something.
„So, Y/N, truth or dare?”
„Dare” a playful smirk finding its place on Wooyoung's face
„I dare you to kiss the person in this room, you have feelings for.”
You immediately started to regret telling him, that you like Mingi, the look in your eyes scolding him.
„Okay, but you all have to close your eyes.”
The 8 boys and your other 3 girl friends closed their eyes, as you hesitantly got up, making your way to Mingi, your crush of 5 months. Sitting on the ground next to him, your fingers landed on his jaw as your lips met his. Mingi’s eyes shot open as all your friends started applauding at your confession.
„I-I think i have feelings for you too Y/N...“
⩥ 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠
You were currently in the changing room, packing your belongings, to take from your workplace. You decided to leave your job as a makeup artist and stylist for the group ATEEZ. The reason was the fact that you liked one of the members and didn’t want to cause any problems to the groups, you knew it was inappropriate to like him, but it was irresistible.
You attached feelings for Wooyoung when you first started to work with them. All eight boys were absolutely amazing, but Wooyoung was just... different. He sparked a flame of interest in you, his personality, his talent, his looks, all those drew you to Wooyoung.
As you cleaned all your makeup brushes, the door to the changing room opened, as the figure of the aforementioned boy stood there.
„What are you doing Y/N? Why are you packing your things, are you going somewhere?“
„I’m leaving, Wooyoung.“
„What, why?“
„That is none of your concers.“
„It is, you’re my stylist, but more importantly, you’re my friend.“
„Yeah, that’s the problem Wooyoung, I’m your stylist - your colleague, that’s why I have to leave.“
„Why would you have to leave because you’re my stylist, what ar-“
„Because I like you Wooyoung, okay?! That’s why I can’t keep on working with you and mix my feelings into my job, it’s inappropriate, now if you excuse me, I’m leaving.“
The boy stood there as a column, without any movement. Should he go after you, accept your feelings and then you’ll keep on working with him and being his friend, or should he stay there and not go after you? Either way, it was already too late...
⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨
„So, what’s new in your life, Y/N? We haven’t seen each other for a long time because of our busy schedules.“ Jongho said as he sipped on his boba tea.
„Well, not that much happened in my life. You know how it is, a lot of work and stress, and lesser free time and sleep. I’ve bought a new notebook since my old one broke down and uhm... yeah well... I’ve been catching feelings for this boy lately.“
„Wow, really? I’m so happy for you Y/N, tell me more about it, I need to know what kind of a boy owns my bestie’s heart.“
„Well, he’s a really talented singer, he’s kind and funny, he’s more of an athletic type, hmm... and he’s really really strong. But he’s for real one of the nicest and best persons I’ve ever met, I like him, but I don’t know whether to tell him, because I'm not certain of his feelings...“
„Wow, he seems to be a nice guy, but don’t be blinded by your feelings, if he doesn’t like you, let it be, I don’t want you to get hurt, because of some stupid boy who won’t acknowledge the feelings such a beautiful and amazing woman like you has for him. Anyway, do I know him or who is he? I’m like really really curious right now.“
„It’s you Jongho.. you’re the boy i like.“
#ateez#ateez reactions#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez headcanons#ateez x reader#ateez hongjoong#ateez seonghwa#ateez yunho#ateez yeosang#ateez san#ateez mingi#ateez wooyoung#ateez jongho#ateez reaction#ateez fluff
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A weekend without Kara.
Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader.
Word count: 3300.
“AHHH!” You yell standing up in one movement, looking at the portal opening in front of you, right in the middle of your living room. “Holy shit.” You put your hand on your chest and watch the Flash coming out of the portal.
“Oh, hi Superkid!” He smiles at you and you give him a thumbs up, after the first scare. “Is Supergirl home?”
“MOMMA! Uncle Barry is here to drag you to another reality so you two can fight some…” You look at him raising an eyebrow.
“World-consuming alien.” He answers and you agree with your head.
“Some nonsense alien.” You yell again and you hear Kara agreeing from her bedroom, saying she’ll be right down.
“How did you know?” Barry asks, looking at you throwing yourself back on the couch.
“Please. Like you would just show up here to say she looks pretty on her dress or something.” He agrees with his head. You’re right.
“Hey, wanna race while she doesn’t come?” Barry smiles and you stand up again.
“Yeah, I’ve been training a lot. I think I can beat you now.” You walk to the front door and open it.
“One time around the block and here is the finish line?” He asks and you shake your head agreeing. You both get in position for the run. “Ready? Go!” Barry becomes a flash in your eyes, and stops next to you a second later. He looks at you standing by the door, furrowing his brows. “Wait! How are you here already? I’m pretty sure I just broke the sound barrier.”
“Well, I told you I could beat you.” You walk back into the house, and Kara appears all dressed as Supergirl.
“Kid, I’ll be gone for a while. Please text your mom to come stay with you.” Kara asks and you agree with your head, but you don’t move. She points at your phone in your pocket. “Now, come on. I want to see you typing.”
“Fine.” You grab the phone and pretend to send an audio message. “Hey guys, I’ll be alone for the weekend! Party at my house! Bring a beer keg!”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.” Kara is unamused while Barry laughs extremely loud next to her. She shoots him a disapproving look.
“Sorry. She’s hilarious.” Barry shrugs defensively and you smile.
You: Momma is going to another reality. World-consuming alien. The Flash. Probably another bunch of weird stuff.
Mom: OK! Do you want to meet me at the hotel, or should I go home?
You: Home, please.
Mom: Ok baby, see you there after work.
You show your texts to Kara, who shakes her head agreeing. Then looks at Barry next to her, giving him a nod.
“Ok.” He fumbles with the portal control, almost dropping it, then presses the button to open it. “Good to see you Superkid! Next time don’t let me race alone!” He winks at you and you smile.
“Guess you are smart.” You do finger guns at him and he goes into the portal. Kara walks towards you and kisses your forehead.
“Please, be good. If you need anything at all, call your aunt Alex. Be nice to your mom. If there’s an emergency and you need to save National City, please be careful.” She adds another kiss to your forehead. “I love you, little one.”
“I love you, mommy. Be careful out there.” You smile and she agrees, before walking into the portal and disappearing right after.
You look around the empty house and the clock on the kitchen wall. You’re not throwing a party, obviously, but what’s stopping you from having your girlfriend over? You text her, and it doesn’t take long until she’s at your door.
You have everything prepared when she arrives, and you both settle in the living room to watch a movie. She has her arms wrapped around you the entire time and you feel happy and bubbly about the whole situation.
“Hey.” She whispers on your jaw, and gives you a sweet kiss there. “I don’t want to ruin the moment, but can we talk about what happened today at school?”
You forage your brain trying to remember what happened, but nothing comes. You look at her with furrowed brows to show your confusion.
“What that girl said to you?” Maya adds when she realizes you have no idea what she is talking about. “Babe, you can’t possibly have forgotten about it.” She opens a little more distance between you two, shaking her head in denial. “She told you to kill yourself.”
“Oh! Ah! Yes!” You stand up, a little uncomfortable, collecting the empty popcorn containers, and soda cans. “That’s just, you know-”
“That’s just heinous it’s what that is.” She stands up again. “How can you not have told her to go fuck herself or something?”
“Oh no, babe. That’s not-” You turn your back to her, so she won’t see your face completely red. “Why would I do that? I can’t drop to her level.”
“Oh my God, are you serious?” Maya’s voice comes a little louder. You know she’s not fighting you, and that she’s not upset with you, but with the situation. Your heart still starts pounding in your chest, either way. “She told you that you should die because you have Luthor in your name. How can you put up with that and not say a word?”
She walks towards you, taking everything you’re holding out of your hands and putting in the nearest surface. She cups your face and smiles at you.
“I get that you’re the nicest person in the universe, but I can’t stomach the way they treat you in that school. And I don’t like that you put your head down for them.” She kisses your cheek lightly. “If you’re not going to fight them, I will.”
“I just don’t think it’s worth it. It’s not like they’ll ever stop.” You shrug, looking into her eyes. She sighs. “Besides, I’m used to it.”
“Babe, that’s even more upsetting.” Maya puts her head on your collarbone. “What do your moms say about it?”
“Oh no. No.” You step a little further away from her, shaking your head. “They can’t know about the things they say. It would be very distressing.”
You hear a noise in the kitchen and you don’t even have to use your x-ray vision to know that Lena is home, making noises so you notice her there.
“Lena is here.” You say, and Maya holds your hand, when you two walk to the kitchen. “Hey mom.”
“Oh hey-” Lena raises her head from the grocery bags. “Girls.”
“Hello, Mrs. Luthor.” Maya answers and turns her face to you. “Walk me out?”
“Yeah.” Lena waves a quick goodbye at Maya, and you take her outside, closing the door for a little goodbye kiss without Lena being able to see it. “I’ll see you Monday.”
“Ok. Please, text goodnight.” Maya adds before turning on her heels and leaving your house.
You go back inside, and look at Lena putting the food she bought on the fridge. You help her, without saying a word.
“Please tell me you’re eating healthy.” Lena asks, knowing the answer by the things on the fridge. You shrug.
“Maybe you should come back home and make me.” You open a smile and she chuckles, holding your chin and looking at you lovingly.
“Funny.” Lena kisses your cheek and you hug her, laying your head on her shoulder. She strokes your back gently, and you sigh.
“I miss you here.”
Lena doesn’t answer. You know she misses you too by the way she’s holding you tight, and by the way her heart is beating. You know she’s hurt with Kara, and you wish there was something you could do about it.
“So.” Lena lets go of you, cleans one tear on her face, and looks at the things she didn’t put away. “You start on the salad, and I’ll start on the chicken.”
“Sounds good.” You two fall into a natural and comfortable silence while cooking together. It’s twice as fast without Kara around, but half as fun.
After you two finish cooking, she puts the food on the table, while you finish setting it up.
“You know I don’t have super hearing.” Lena says, while filling her glass with wine. You sit and wait for her to come closer. “But, when I got home, I heard you and Maya talking, and it sounded like you two were fighting.”
“Oh, no, we weren’t.” You deny with your head, and serve yourself. Lena finally comes back with her wine. She sits, crossing her legs, reclining on the chair and looking at you from the other side of the table.
“I know. I’ve heard.” She says and you look up to her, realizing what that means. “Baby-”
“Mom, I got it, ok? You don’t have to worry about it.” You sigh, putting food on your mouth, and giving her a thumbs up, because it’s delicious. “Let’s not ruin this perfect dinner with this conversation.”
“I’m sorry, babygirl. I think we should ruin dinner.” Lena says and you sigh. “What they do to you it’s not right. No one is supposed to hear the things you do, because of your stupid name. God, sometimes I regret giving it to you in the first place.”
“Mom.”
“No, I-I do. I should’ve known better. It’s too big of a burden to carry, and you are the opposite of what this name stands for.” Lena’s eyes are filled with tears and you bite your lip. “I actually thought people would forget about Lex. But he keeps coming back and dragging our names through the mud, all the time.”
You know she’s mad at Lex for mind controlling you still, so you let her vent. She’s been keeping this feeling bottle up for more than a week now, not having Kara to talk about it.
“And you, the sweetest, nicest person on the planet, keep paying for it.” Her tears fall, and your heart squeezes in your chest. You hate seeing her like that. “I wish you had nothing to do with this sick, rotten family.”
“But then I would have nothing to do with you.” You get up from your chair, rounding the table and going to her. “And you are the best thing in my life.” You smile. “And momma, of course.”
“Baby.” She cups your face with one hand, and smiles through the tears. “You are the best thing in my life. I love you so much.”
“Listen. You are right. I shouldn’t have to endure all the hate speeches, and all the teasing, but kids are stupid. I don’t think that half of them actually hate me because of my name, I think they hate me because it’s fun.” Lena raises her eyebrow at that. “It’s fun to laugh at the school genius, at least that’s what I see in every teen movie.”
Lena gives a little laugh and kisses your cheek.
“You’re amazing. Are you sure you’re just sixteen?” She asks and you shrug.
“You tell me.” You round the table again, going to your place. “You’re the one who made me in a lab.”
The dinner goes smoothly after that. The food is incredible and you know it’s only been a little more than a week, but you missed her food anyway. Lena’s presence feels right, like it always did. And you just wish she could stay more than just the weekend.
You two hang out a lot. It feels stupid when you think it hasn’t been that long since she left home, why were you missing her so much? Why were you missing her telling you to clean up your room, and help her with dinner?
After the conversation she overheard between you and Maya, she became Maya’s number one fan. It’s hilarious, and you didn’t see it coming. But every time you say Maya’s name, she just opens the biggest smile and it’s awesome.
You don’t want this weekend to end.
But it’s Sunday night, and your heart feels heavy even though Lena is still right next to you on the couch, talking about some experience that went wrong in the lab, and that one of the interns got so scared he’ll be blamed for it, he almost puked.
“Poor kid.” Lena adds, in the end, and you agree with your head.
“But you forgave him, right?” You ask and she agrees. “Then why can’t you forgive momma?”
“Baby, that’s not-”
“Mom, I don’t know what happened but, well, you once told me that we’re Luthor-Danvers, and that means that we might get upset, but we know how to recognize our mistakes and apologize.” You raise an eyebrow at her.
“I wish it was that simple.” Lena sighs, and you hug her.
“It could, if you two just stopped overcomplicating stuff and just talked.” Lena doesn’t answer. She kisses your forehead, and falls silent for the rest of the night, looking too lost in her thoughts.
When Kara comes back from another reality is really late at night. You and Lena are comfortable on the couch watching a cooking show, when the portal opens again in the middle of the living room.
“Lena!” Kara looks so surprised as if she didn’t make you text your mom in front of her to make sure Lena would come to keep you company.
“Oh, hi.” Lena stands up, fidgeting her fingers, nervously. You roll your eyes thinking this is very pathetic. Just make-up already! “Well, great! You’re home. I suppose other realities are saved?” Kara shakes her head, agreeing. Eyes looking at Lena’s hands, then focusing back at her eyes. “Then I should get going.”
“NO!” Kara says a little louder than she planned to, reaching out to Lena, but not really touching her arm. Damn, it was so close. “It’s late.” She guesses by looking at the sky. “You should stay. It’s-It’s your house.”
Lena raises an eyebrow, and they stare at each other for a few seconds. Do they even know you’re there or have them forgotten completely about your existence?
“You take the bedroom and I’ll sleep on the couch.” Kara points at it, and sees you sitting there. “Or with the kid.” Oh, so they know you’re there.
“I don’t know…” Lena bites her lips, and you open your eyes at Kara, encouraging her.
“Please. It makes no sense for you to leave. It’s late, and even if it wasn’t-just-yeah-please.” Kara is always so articulate. But still, somehow, that makes Lena agree with her head and she decides to stay. You smile to yourself, and whisper a ‘thank you’ when she sits back on the couch, and Kara goes to take a shower.
When you hear that Kara has finished getting ready, you go to your room, so you can leave them alone to see if they finally talk. They don’t. Seriously, what are you going to do about this?
“Hey.” Kara knocks on your door then puts her head inside. “Will you absolutely hate it if I sleep here tonight?”
“C’mere.” You open your arms, and Kara smiles, walking into your arms, and laying in bed with you. “How were things in the other dimension?”
“Hard. Maybe I’m getting too old for this.” Kara says making you laugh in response, and soon she adds. “Don’t you dare saying I’m 70.”
“But you are.” You say and she sticks her tongue out at you, and flop back on her belly next to you.
“How were things here?”
“Great. It’s really good having mom home.” You watch her expression when you say that. She hums in agreement, but doesn’t say anything. “So, are you going to apologize or what?”
“Why do you assume it was my fault?” Kara furrows her brows, and you ease her crinkle with your thumb.
“I don’t. I have no idea whose fault it is. Or even if it’s a matter of culpability, at all. All I know is that, it doesn’t matter.” You stroke her back gently. “You love her, she loves you. You guys have been through so much, and you have never ever given up on her.”
“I’m not giving up now, either.”
“Well, then do something about it.” You say and Kara breathes deep. You raise your eyebrow at her. “Now! Do something now!”
“Ok, yeah.” She stands up and goes to the door. Before she leaves, she comes back and kisses your forehead. “You’re the best kid in the entire universe. You know that, right?”
“Yeah. Now, go.”
It would be a lot easier if your power had just gotten out of control again, and you could blame your eavesdropping on this, but that's not the case. What is happening is that your heart is so heavy on your chest. You know they keep saying it was not your fault, but if this is true why is your guilt practically consuming you? So, you need to know.
“Hey.” You hear a knock on the door, and Kara’s voice right after.
“Oh, Kara. Do you need to grab something?” Lena’s voice comes a little surprised.
“No, I-Lena, I’m really sorry.” Kara breathes out, like she was holding the apology for days, which is probably true. “Of course, I believe you, and I don’t think there’s a world you would ever hurt her, but I got really scared. I saw the look on her face, and she kept calling me mommy, and I caved.”
So, it was your fault! Holy shit you knew it! Lena’s voice comes an entire minute later, which almost makes you faint in anticipation. Come on Lena, come on. You can do it.
“I’m sorry too.” OH, THANK RAO. “You were right, there were other ways, and she was in pain. But don’t think for a second I wasn’t scared too.”
“I know. I know you were. I know you ARE.” Kara says, and you lower your glasses to see if they’re hugging, and they’re still not. Goddammit Kara, do something! “It doesn’t matter how many times the world gets in danger and our existence is threatened. Every time she is the one in danger, I-It’s-”
“Yeah.” Lena’s face drops and you watch Kara coming closer. Reaching out with one hand. Fingers ghosting over Lena’s arm. Your heart is stuck on your throat the entire time, and it feels like it’s going to explode in anticipation. Go, momma, please.
But Kara doesn’t go to Lena.
It’s Lena who goes to her.
Lena hugs Kara’s waist tight and sobs on her t-shirt. You hear Kara’s heart skipping a beat, and a breath of relief leaving her mouth.
“We’re ok.” Kara kisses the top of Lena’s head, wrapping her arms around her head, pressing her further into her chest. “She’s ok. We-We’ll figure this out, love.”
Lena’s heart beats a lot faster and she looks up, gazing into Kara’s eyes. They don’t have to say the words, so you know what they’re thinking. But they do it anyway.
“I love you, Lena.” Kara smiles, kissing Lena’s head again, and it’s time for Lena’s heart to skip a beat. “Always have, always will. In a hundred lifetimes, in any alternative reality, in every world. I love you.”
“I love you, honey.”
You stop listening, because now it’s way too private and it seems like things are better. And since Kara doesn’t come back to your bedroom, you’re right to assume things are better than they were before. But your heart only truly eases, when Monday comes and Lena comes back home after work. That’s when you can finally breathe.
Notes:
@itzyourgirlnat prompted a week without Kara and I LOVED IT!
Also Kara and Lena are back together, so the angst is over, ooof! What a long ride!
#kara x lena#supergirl#kara danvers#lena luthor#supercorp#supercorpfamily#kara x reader#supercorp daughter#supercorp fanfic#lena x reader#reader insert
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Cradle | Sakusa Kiyoomi, Iwaizumi Hajime
Synopsis: First is love; in the forms over the years you come to know. Then second is grief and loss; and how the struggle that comes with it defines and reshapes you. And finally third is acceptance, where you realize that the awakening to love and life’s questions have always just been in the palm of your hand.
This story is for those who shielded themselves from love before it could even hit them.
Characters/Pairings: Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader x Iwaizumi Hajime | Seijoh 3rd years (friendship)
Genre/Tags/Warnings: Slice of Life, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Slow burn, Seijoh4!Friendship, Cellist!Sakusa, Musician!Reader, Hajime lmao, Mutual Pining, Love Triangle, Happy Ending!!, Character death, mentions of spiraling
WC: 17.5k
a/n: a month long wip! this one is all for you, mom. i broke my heart writing down these memories, but i hope you read this on the other side. + big thank you to @introvertedfangirlpower for the cello facts! really helped me :)
playlist: Message to Myself - Roo Panes
ko-fi | commissions
For you, love began in the unknown.
You say unknown because you don’t remember much of your childhood other than the flashes of residual warmth that came with the memory of your mother. For as long as you can remember, she always felt like that: warm and familiar—like home.
Her presence like the warmth that stays on your coffee mug long after you’ve consumed your drink. Warmth like sitting in front of a fireplace as you watch the last bits of firewood extinguish in the flames.
And your fondest memory perhaps—warm like the hands that cup your face and kiss your forehead every morning before you left for school.
The early years in your life meant days spent in planted gardens outside of a kitchen window where the pink and yellow flowers bloom in the spring, and jumping in the fallen leaves raked in a pile centered in the backyard in the late autumn.
Then in the winters, when it became too cold to lay in blankets in the backyard stargazing for constellations—you’d spend the Christmas nights listening to bedtime stories about her time traveling the world you have yet to explore. “You’ll fall in love with seeing what’s out there,” you recall her saying as she tucks you in bed with the green blanket she knitted for you when you were a baby.
Though you suppose even if you loved the winter months with her the best—you could never go wrong with sipping the iced tea she’d leave for you on the porch in the afternoons you spent outside in the summers. The iced tea she made was always the best: never too sweet, and never too bland either.
And for the most part of your childhood, your father was absent. You didn’t really care; his absent never lingered. So even when the bratty kid from the classroom next to yours would brag about the brand new jacket her papa bought her from a trip overseas—you didn’t care. The jacket you wore was still the same one from last year, and the scarf wrapped around you was the one she knitted two winters ago, but the way she wrapped you up and kissed your nose made the taunting escape your mind.
Your mother would tell you stories about the times when you were a baby and of how she’d tuck you in nice and snug in your blanket whenever she felt the room was too cold and then fan you out when the temperature rose. Apparently, when you were a baby you never cried too much so she was left to guess whether you felt comfortable enough with the room’s temperature or not. She always finished the story by saying you smiled at her either way so she supposes she guessed right every time.
You don’t question it because she guesses right every time.
During father daughter dances that were annually held in your school, your mother always made sure to take the day off of work early so the two of you would have dinner some place nice instead. Her jokes were better than the ones your dad halfheartedly chucked your way when he did come to visit anyway, so you didn’t mind.
Your father ringing you up three hours before the dance with the last minute classic excuse of “sudden meeting today, I’m sorry.” didn’t bother you as much as you think it should have when your mom was right next to you ready to tell you another story from her younger days.
Her “younger days” as she liked to call it was always a favorite topic of hers that she always returned to from time to time. At eight years old, it felt like there was so much of the world still to explore and despite her telling you to live your childhood to the fullest, you didn’t ask what it meant and requested to hear an encore of the story she just finished telling.
She’d smile and you’d hear her tell you that no, and that you should have listened, but you know during the “father daughter” dinners shared between the two of you, she was extra soft and that it would take nothing more than pleading eyes and one more “please” before she’d relent and tell the story again.
She was always enough; every second with her felt just right—and if there’s something you never regret during your childhood, it’s those times where you’d ignore the teasing of having “no dad to dance with” from your childhood bullies because you were more than content with the superwoman who raised you anyway.
-
If there was someone in your childhood other than your mom who never hesitated to hold your hands—it was the boy who lived right down the street: Iwaizumi Hajime.
“He looks a little scruffy,” your mom used to tell you and you’d shrug at her words because to ten year old you, she did have a point. Boys were icky.
His family didn’t move in your street until you turned ten years old, but according to the Oikawa family who lived next door—the Iwaizumi family had already been one of their long term friends. Tooru, the pretty boy who was your next door neighbor and often brought you the Christmas cookies you’ve come to love every December didn’t hesitate to knock on your door and ask your mom for permission to bring you out and play.
Tooru was okay, you thought; he had nice hair and a pretty smile even though he wore alien t-shirts every chance he could get. But, he was always kind enough to remember that you preferred almonds in your cookies instead of the cashews the recipe called for. So when your mother looked at you for your answer, you nodded shyly before running to your room to grab the jacket and scarf she reminded you to wear. The chill from autumn’s air has been settling in the region lately, so you let her wrap the scarf around you tightly before you left.
She did the same for both Tooru and his mystery friend, and you could only nod proudly when Tooru introduced his friend to your mother with, “This is (l/n)-san, she’s the nicest auntie here!”
You don’t notice the boy who walks quietly beside Tooru until the three of you reach the park. When you do finally notice him, you subconsciously find yourself moving a little closer to Tooru, your puffy cheeks hidden in the layers your scarf buried you in.
“Oh!” Tooru suddenly exclaims like he just had an epiphany.
“(Y/n),” he says as he turns to you and grabs the sleeve of your jacket, “—this is Iwa-chan. My bestest friend!”
Iwa-chan, the boy introduced to you peeks at you from Tooru’s left side and puffs his cheeks, “My name is Iwaizumi Hajime, nice to meet you.”
“Hello, I’m (y/n),” you reply and tentatively hold your hand out as an offer for him to shake, “nice to meet you Iwaizumi-san.”
His cheeks turn red at your words and you fight the urge to laugh at how silly it looks with his pout when he says, “You can call me Hajime. Nice to meet you too.”
Beside you, Tooru must have thought that his friend was taking too long to respond because he sighs loudly and grabs Hajime’s hand and clasps it on yours. “Iwa-chan, you’re supposed to shake her hand! Not stare.”
The red tinting his cheeks turn into a couple shades darker as he shakes your hand and turns his head to the side after muttering something along the lines of, “Baka-kawa.”
You smile at him when he faces you, and then smile even wider when the blush on his cheeks turn even redder. Maybe it’s just the cold air, you think, but none the less it suited him.
His hair was a little scruffy and he liked to wear Godzilla t-shirts under his jackets, but his cheeks blushed a pretty shade of red when you smiled at him so when your mom asks how your day with Tooru and the new neighbor went, you smile at her and say, “Mama I made a new friend!”
Hajime seemed nice, you suppose.
-
And you’re right because Hajime was always kind; he smiled in a way that had you smiling along with him in mere seconds. Though he was a little rougher with Tooru, Hajime always made it his mission to make sure he held your hand—if you needed it—when you needed to jump down a big step; the ever present blush on his cheeks when you’d beam at him stayed regardless of whatever season so you suppose you can’t blame it on the cold air anymore.
During your summer breaks, the three of you would spend the afternoons in your mother’s backyard sipping iced tea and catching cicadas. Tooru, along with you, would whine about how gross bugs were but you’d sooner relent than him when a pout began to form on Hajime’s face.
“You don’t have to,” Hajime says and takes a seat next to you on the swing next to the rosebushes. Tooru, from a far would yell triumphantly before tossing the volleyball he’d brought with him from home again. You, on the other hand could never have it in you to see Hajime upset so you’d pick up one of the three nets he’d brought with him and nod towards the garden.
“It’s okay!” you say and offer him a sweet smile when he’d look up, “as long as you keep the worms away from me then it’s okay!”
“I’ll keep them away,” he replies suddenly looking excited. Hajime jumps from the swings to grab another net and tugs at your hand to run towards the garden; he chooses to ignore the look on Tooru’s face when the latter shoots him a knowing smirk.
Bugs were never your thing and there was also never a day where you thought you’d be out in the garden running hand in hand with a boy trying to catch cicadas on a summer afternoon—when you’d much prefer to be sitting in a picnic blanket with the family dog who always nudged your hand for belly rubs. But then again, when you see Hajime, the kind boy with the infectious smile who always held your hand when you crossed the street or jumped from big steps, beam at you with his laughs ringing in the air—you conclude that it can’t be so bad after all.
When the sun would set and the three of you would let go of all the cicadas you caught, your mom would sit the three of you down for dinner and talk about your days.
“Ah, youth,” your mother would comment and you’d nod along, smiling because if this is what she meant by the beauty of youth—then you don’t ever want to let this go. If youth meant summer afternoons spent catching cicadas, festivals in the autumn, hot cocoas in winter, and picnics in the spring with Hajime and Tooru then you decided you really don’t want to let it go.
You think that especially when you look at the table across you as you smile at Tooru shoveling his dinner down and smiling at your mom because she was the bestest cook ever and laugh when Hajime’s always the one offering to pass the salt or the dish your mother asked for.
“Haji is really smart, mama,” you say looking up at the woman seated next to you and Tooru would whole heartedly agree then mutter something about “Iwa-chan” being really good at arm wrestling. Hajime would flush with the familiar shade of red you’ve grown accustomed to at Tooru’s comment but tell your mother a polite thank you when she’d clap her hands together and agree with Tooru’s compliment.
That night when your mother tucked you in for the night and moved to turn off the lights in the bedroom, she tells you that Hajime and Tooru are nice boys and that she’s glad you befriended the both of them.
You tell her goodnight and smile into your covers, feeling warm at the thought of your mother’s words, Tooru’s laughter, and Hajime’s kind smile.
-
High school was a strange time for the three of you.
Strange, in the sense that even though the three of you maintained the closeness of the friendship you’ve shared since childhood—certain things factored in the evident shift in some relationships.
Tooru was one example.
You would give up an arm for him in a heartbeat if it meant it would save his life, but at the same time, there are some moments where you wouldn’t hesitate to rip off his arm just to get him to shut up.
He’s always been perceptive, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise when he came to your house one day, plopped himself on the beanbag he claimed to be “his spot” at the corner of your desk, look you dead in the eye, and declare, “You have the hots for Iwa-chan don’t you?”
Internally, you wince at the statement but outwardly maintain the air of nonchalance you’ve mastered over the years. Tapping your pen on Tooru’s forehead, you click your tongue, “If you don’t finish your essay by today, I’m not gonna edit it for you.”
“You’re changing the topic, (y/n),” Tooru quips and if the conversation was about something different, you’d smile at the sing-song tone he was using.
“Changing what?” You ask.
“(Y/n),” Tooru replies, dragging out the last syllable of your name, “—you’re so obvious, even Makki and Mattsun could tell.”
“Could tell what?” comes Hajime’s voice from the doorway.
You let out a sigh because in a way you’re thankful for Hajime’s impeccable timing in entering your room. You turn your head and glance at him from your desk, offering him a lazy wave as a greeting.
“Iwa-chan!” Tooru exclaims and scrambles on the beanbag to sit up properly. “How much have you heard?”
“Were you talking about something important?” Hajime asks with a flat tone as he sits on your bed and pulls out his laptop.
“Your mom asked me and Oikawa to stay for dinner tonight, by the way. That cool with you?” he asks.
You look at him, the expression on your face quizzical, “Haji, you guys always stay for dinner. Mama and I love having you two around.”
From your peripheral vision, you could see Tooru look between you and Hajime back and forth and for once you’re glad he chose to stay silent.
But then when a familiar tinge of red falls on Hajime’s cheeks and you smile fondly at him, Tooru suddenly hollers, “(Y/n), that’s what I mean. You totally have the hots for Iwa-chan!”
Hajime’s eyes widen as you slap a hand over your face.
Today was one of the days where you decide you want to rip Tooru’s arm off.
-
Dinner later that night was, to put it bluntly, awkward.
You figured your mom must have already read the atmosphere by now but as of the moment all you could really do was shoot glares towards Tooru from across the table. Usually, the seating arrangement would be like this: you sat next to your mom, Tooru right across you, and Hajime diagonal from you.
Tonight, Tooru decided that it was time to “switch things up” and traded seats with Hajime.
“Ahh, this feels nice,” he says as he sits in the chair inches away from the chair where he sat for years.
“Boys,” your mother begins, “I heard you both got into the volleyball team.”
Tooru beams at her through a mouthful of pasta. “Yeth!” he chimes and Hajime elbows him on the side reminding him to eat properly before responding. You, along with your mother give a soft laugh at their interaction.
“How are you three liking high school so far? I expect the two of you to get rid of any boys who have bad intentions towards (y/n),” your mother says as she sips on her wine. Internally, you groan, because this was a conversation you would much prefer to not have. Especially in front of Tooru, you decide when he grins with an undertone of something you could only guess was anything but good. You shoot him a warning look; Tooru decides it’s a good day to ignore you.
Over the years, you made your appreciation known towards Hajime’s amazing timing. It was like he had a sixth sense when it came to either you, Tooru, or the both of you simultaneously. He had always managed to round the corner right as the passing university boys would spot you alone by the convenience store, catch Tooru before he did anything too drastic whenever he blamed himself a little too harshly for a loss from a particularly bad game, or like earlier that night—walk into a room interrupting a conversation you would rather avoid altogether.
This current situation was not one of those times.
Hajime took a bite. Your eyes were still locked on Tooru who did everything but look in your direction.
“I don’t think that’s a problem, (L/n)-san,” he said and leaned forward. Your mother next to you raised an eyebrow in question and muttered an, “oh?”
Hajime took another bite, still oblivious to the current conversation. You still looked at Tooru who smiled at you in a way that had you gripping the fork in your hand a little tighter.
“No scary boys around (y/n), at all! Isn’t that right, Iwa-chan?” Tooru exclaims and looks at his best friend next to him who was still engrossed in his plate of food. You hold your breath looking at Hajime as you wait for his response.
“Huh? Yeah. Anyway, this new recipe is really good (l/n)-san,” he finally says and nods towards your mother. Tooru clasps his hands together, smiling.
“Personally,” Tooru begins, “I think Iwa-chan and (y/n) would be the most perfect couple!”
You run your hands over your face, already feeling the heat crawling up your neck. Feeling your mother’s stare you let out a sigh and face her. “Mom-“
“Hajime! That’s great! I was wondering when the two of you would get together, it’s literally been years.”
You stare at her. Hajime stares at her; pasta sauce is smeared on the corner of his lips.
“I know, imagine being the third wheel this whole time!” Tooru comments.
-
“Hajime’s a nice boy,” your mother tells you as you join her in the living room after Tooru and Hajime returned home.
“We’re not, a thing, mom,” you say despite her laughing at your tone.
“I didn’t say you two were a thing.”
You open your mouth, but eventually close it when you come short of a response. She had a point.
“Mom,” you groan, “Haji is nice. Tooru is nice. Both of them are nice.”
“I know that, (y/n), you’re just being defensive now,” she laughs and you can’t find a retort so you huff in response.
When the room is dips into silence, you grab the familiar green blanket folded on the corner of the couch and take a seat next to her. She looks at you when you lean against her shoulder and drape the blanket over the two of you.
“(Y/n),” your mother says softly.
“Yeah?” you respond, looking up to catch her gaze—the kind where it’s steady and soft.
“Never lose yourself if you decide to give your heart to someone. I raised you well enough and no boy should ever make you feel like you’re taking two steps back,” you know she doesn’t say it to spite Hajime, but the message and advice in her words reach you anyway.
“Never in a million years.”
-
You know your mother means well because everything she’s done so far was because it was for your sake. Her credit of being a good mom was well deserved: a full time nurse and a full time mother wasn’t an easy feat but she did it—and not a day goes by where you felt like you had to fight for her time.
And because of that, you knew in your heart that Hajime knew the both of you enough to understand the dynamic you had with her; for that, you were always thankful.
True to Tooru’s words, it only took the both of you six more months of back and forth bickering in your room before you eventually built up enough courage to stand in front of Hajime with your confession written neatly in jet black ink on paper tucked inside the pink envelope Tooru had demanded you to use.
He was quiet, and staring at you long enough for your cheeks to turn as pink as the envelope you were holding that it had you beginning to wrack your brain for excuses to turn and walk in the opposite direction. Only, when you looked up, cheeks flushed and the “Sorry I think I have to be home early to put my fish to sleep,” at the tip of your tongue—you stop because Hajime’s looking at anywhere but you and because his entire face is red.
You still have the envelope awkwardly stretched out towards him so when you move in attempt to retract it, his hands are suddenly clasped over your wrists and he’s looking at you, red face and all, saying, “W-wait—“
The both of you must have been quite the spectacle for the way you’re staring at each other, red faced, and waiting for the other to begin speaking because you could definitely make out Takahiro and Issei’s snorting from some feet away.
“—shit,” Hajime continues and the way he’s still staying silent and going back to avoiding your gaze has you tugging your wrists out of his hold and sheepishly telling him, “Sorry, this is a little awkward isn’t it?”
You’re standing in front of Hajime with your hands holding the letter behind your back and an awkward smile on your face.
“(Y/n), this is really weird—“ he begins and you’re shaking your head automatically at his attempt to soften the blow by waving your arms—and the letter—in front of him saying, “Haji! No! It’s okay you don’t have to say anything, this was a really bad idea—“
“No, I mean—“ he cuts you off then pauses as he’s sifting through the contents of his bag and pulling out a slightly crumpled envelope, the color a disturbingly identical to your own.
You look at Hajime. Hajime looks at you, at his envelope, then towards yours that paused with your hand midair. Issei and Takahiro’s laughter can be heard even louder from the background when Hajime runs his hands over his face and exclaims,
“Oikawa you son of a bitch.”
-
Two years and some months ago, Oikawa Tooru—the self-proclaimed “love guru” between you and Hajime had declared to have pulled off his “greatest plan.”
Apparently, the original plan called for only you to confess to Hajime via the classic love letter—but Issei and Takahiro had thought that the shits and giggles were worth to have both of you confess to each other at the same time instead.
Tooru always retells the story in the fashion where he leaves out Issei and Hiro’s names out of the credits. On the contrary, you and Hajime don’t have in in you to react much.
In the beginning, Hajime the friend held your hand through many of your highs and lows.
From age ten, he’d always make sure to hold your hand when you’re jumping from steps a little too far for your liking. At twelve, he’s holding your hand as he leads you away from the worms that found its way near the picnic blanket. At fifteen, when the two of you accidentally confessed to each other thanks to your friends’ schemes, he held your hand as he pulled you in the direction opposite of Tooru yelling, “Iwa-chan, don’t forget I’m the best wingman!”
Hajime, the boyfriend, had continued to hold your hand as well as share a multitude of your first throughout the years.
Your first date where he’d always let you walk on the correct side of the sidewalk, and make sure to squeeze your hand whenever the two of you would pass by a group of boys who let their stare linger. Your first kiss—a quick peck after a game where he’d rushed to you, lifting you up and planting a kiss on your lips before either of you could even process what was happening.
A reassuring hand on your back in the train ride during rush hour, kisses on your knuckles when he thought no one was around in quiet libraries, and your favorite: the feel of his thumbs tracing idle circles on the back of your hand when you’re watching him review the game you recorded earlier.
You were each other’s first “I love you,” when you’re seventeen, which was said in the hours between the day and night on your walk home down a quiet street you’ve skipped, ran, and biked across countless of times. You heard it break the silence before you said it with your own lips, because the way Hajime said it was like he was just talking about the weather that day.
When the two of you stop in front of your house and Hajime’s facing you, he’s smiling in the way that has you blushing instead of him this time and he’s looping your scarf even snugger around your neck after muttering some comment about how cold it was that day.
“Haji, did you just tell me you love me?” you ask him when he’s zipped up your jacket and you’re peeking at him under the various layers of the scarf he secured around you.
“Yeah, of course, I love you.”
“This is the first time you’re telling me that,” you say with an almost bashful expression and your eyes are cast down so you don’t end up seeing Hajime’s eyes widen at the realization dawning on him.
“(Y/n), shit—“
“I love you too, Haji,” you cut him off and even if the expression in his face is still a little apologetic at the lack of climax of your first exchange of I love yous, he’s holding your hands and pulling you flush against him in an embrace, his proclamation of more “I love yous” fluttering against your ear in warm breaths.
You think about it sometime later when you’re clearing up the plates on the table from dinner and you ask your mom, “how do you know when it’s right to tell someone I love you?” and she looks at you with an expression that says she knows exactly what you’re talking about but humors your attempt at nonchalance as she replies with, “It just slips out as if you’re talking about the weather.”
And the way she says it has the second thoughts just automatically leaving your head. You tell her “I love you,” in the mornings before she leaves for work and you don’t really think about it—not because it’s a passing comment, but because you just simply love her.
The feeling’s there because what you feel in the moment is as genuine as it can get, so when you think about Hajime from seven years ago who blushed red when you shook his hand and the Hajime seven hours ago who told you he loved you like he was talking about the weather—everything dawns on you in the way that feels right. No second thoughts, deep analysis, or euphoric moment.
>> to hajibug:
>> 23:50: i love you
-
In college you decided to pursue music as a career choice. Music was one of the many things you and your mother had bonded over but watching you play in first chair always gave you the best view of her beaming from the audience.
Whenever somebody asked you why you decided to pursue a career in the field as vague and competitive as music—for a long time you fumbled with your words as you struggled to piece together a coherent enough sentence that would make it seem like you were chasing something for a “deeper” reason. Though, the truth is—you just happen to enjoy it.
The way the shoulder rest snapped perfectly in place with the violin, the weight of the bow in your hand, the smell of rosin during practice, the tuning before the concert started before hearing the eventual mess mold together into one harmony—you loved every second of it.
On the final concert of your first year in college, a week before Hajime’s move to California you stood in the orchestra room reading a text from your mother saying that she couldn’t make it this time because of a doctor’s appointment running later than usual.
You still sat in the first chair of the first violins section and even though you would have loved nothing more than to see her smile at you from the crowd—it was in the coda of the final song where your eye finally catches Hajime watching you from her seat. When the violins put their instruments down in the measures of rests, you glance over to look at Hajime while your toe continued to tap the counts remaining until you’d play again.
You bite back a smile because he looked a little uncomfortable from the high collar of the suit he put on. Tooru’s probably the mastermind, your thoughts chime in as you smile and tuck the violin back in between your chin and shoulder, your rosin covered bow hovering over the E string.
And when the final count of the rests came and went, you could only smile as you see Hajime physically hold his breath as the violins amplified the crescendo of the climax.
-
It was later that night when you finally made it home that you realize that perhaps your favorite part of the song was when you felt the emphasis of the dynamics in the pieces you played.
The moment of absolute silence as the conductor draws everyone’s attention to the tip of the baton.
“(Y/n),” your mother starts and your eyes lock on the slight tremble in her hands.
The seemingly collective sharp breath everyone takes when the tip of the baton begins to signal the final counts until the start. Your fingers pressed on the first note as your bow hovers over the string.
“What’s wrong?” you ask but you let your fingers only ghost on her hands when she holds her silence, refusing to meet your eyes.
Sometimes it begins with a quiet note—and you smile at those because it sounds like a whisper despite it ringing in the auditorium.
“I’m sick,” she says and what she says doesn’t register in your head.
Other times, the first note comes in forte and leaves everyone in a resonating silence while the following notes interlace and begin to tell the story.
“I have cancer, (y/n),” she tells you again, louder this time and her sobs echo so loud in the silence of the house that it suddenly makes you want to throw your hands over your ears.
The conductor is waving the baton; you’re closing your eyes as you mold yourself with the music and focus on nothing but your fingers flying across the fingerboard and making sure the timing of your bow matches the tap of the rhythm set.
“Mom, you’ll be fine right?” comes your assurance in question and she’s not answering because she’s crying harder.
First position to third, then fourth, then something else you don’t quite remember as the pressure from your bow presses harder and harder on the strings to climb with the crescendo the orchestra is rising to.
She looks at you, glassy eyes and trembling lips, then holds your face in between warm hands as she presses her forehead against yours.
Then as the baton drops and the crescendo overflows—the air around the room instantly changes. The shoulders relax and the movement of the bow shift from staccato to legato as the music continues to flow.
“I’m scared to leave you alone,” she finally admits and you finally break down and cry with her because you realize you have no one but each other.
You cry because she’s crying at the thought of leaving you alone when she never cried at all the times your father chose another family over her.
And as the music decrescendos into the whispers of pianissimo, you close your eyes as the gentle sway eventually lulls to a stop.
It’s half past ten and you’re still in your formal wear, but your mom’s fast asleep on the couch. The air from the AC brings you to a light shiver so you shuffle closer and pull the blankets tighter around her frame.
The last note drops and resonates in an almost infinite echo. Your eyes snap back open you feel yourself exhale.
For a moment the auditorium is in silence.
You sit on the floor next to her and listen to the sounds of steady breathing. You could pretend it was just another movie night where she fell asleep on the couch, but the telltale tracks of tears are on her cheeks and you hear her sniffling from time to time so you sigh instead.
Then, the audience erupts in an applause.
In your room, you put your palm over your mouth and begin to cry again.
-
“I love you so much,” is what Hajime said two years down the road when he decided to move to California to finish his studies.
First, he’d made a stop at your home and sat with your mother over breakfast as she wished him well on his new adventure. By the time he was at the door, it was the first time you saw Hajime cry for and with her when she wraps him in a scarf she knitted just for him. You watch softly, as he wraps her in a hug and parts with a promise to always take care of you despite the distance and wishes for her healing.
You’re standing at the border of the gate only Hajime can cross where he’s wrapped you in a hug with his chin resting on your head.
“I love you so much,” he says and you nod your head against his chest. He’s saying it as naturally as he always has and your reply is as immediate and natural when you say, “I love you too, Haji. So much.”
“(Y/n),” he starts when he pulls away from you and looks you in the eye; he’s suddenly serious and you’re afraid.
“If you ever feel like you don’t want to keep doing this, then we can take a break.”
Your brows pinch together as you reply, “Why would I want to break up with you?”
“I’m not saying we will, I just don’t want you to shoulder too much because I know how much you’re hurting right now,” Hajime explains, and his eyes are as genuine as the tone of his voice.
“Haji—“
“I believe in you, though, just—“ he pauses and his eyes soften before he continues, “take things one day at a time and remember that I’m here loving you every day, okay?”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he finishes and you only nod at his words because the fact that you’re going to miss him really begins to hit you. Hajime’s looking at you in the tender way where you know he knows you’re about to cry because he pulls you in another embrace before kissing the top of your head as he murmurs his parting I love you in the quiet tone only you can hear.
When Hajime crosses the gate and turns the corner, you can’t help but bite your lip to keep from crying. Only a couple more years. You could take it.
-
It’s in the next eight months where you realize that while Iwaizumi Hajime shared your first love—he was also your first heartbreak.
They always said that long distance was difficult and the fact that you and Hajime were even trying was commendable enough. But that was the problem—commendable sounded like you were in the relationship for the sake of a prize. Like you were suffering through the now for a prize. Like the good part was only a one-time thing reserved at the end.
It felt wrong, and looking back at it now—perhaps that’s where the downfall began.
As time passed, your mom’s illness worsened. Cancer was ugly and it let itself be known in as many ways as it could. Time and time again, you’d watch her hair fall in strands, then clumps, until she eventually decided to shave it off for good. She smiled at you and you don’t hear her tell you, “It’s okay,” over the buzz of the razor. You don’t think you have the heart to listen to the quiver of her voice that you know is present with her words, so you suppose the loud buzz worked out in the end.
What broke your heart the most was seeing her excitement when her hair grew back after a pause in her treatment—only for her to sit down and tell you that she’s “okay” when you’re shaving off sections of her hair again.
You didn’t let her see you cry because you wanted to be as strong as she was in this; because you knew the both of you broke down within enclosed walls away from each other. Though every time you were face to face—the front was always back up. And the front was flawless; like the edges of a chipped sword finally smoothened back into a blade. But at the same time, flawed; because like the sword—the sharpness always kills.
It was unconventional, but it worked. The momentary sigh of relief was still moments of relief at the end of the day.
Hajime, on the other hand thought differently though. The second you’d answer his call request on particularly off days, he’d tell you to cry. And you would; fat drops of tears rolling down almost as soon as he finished his sentence.
Then only a year of loving each other through a computer screen passed before you realized he became your pillar at the same time you began hardening.
“Never lose yourself in the pursuit of someone or something,” are the words from your mother you consciously make an effort to tell yourself everyday even as you sit in with your phone in hand waiting for the call Hajime promised you early this morning.
And you’re well aware you’ve developed an unhealthy habit as you’re lying in bed, fighting sleep with the time on the clock nearing 4am still waiting for Hajime’s call. It wasn’t the first time he missed a promised phone call—and you weren’t mad because you understand that he has as much of a schedule as you do and that time difference was a wedge the two of you needed to work with.
But still, you think, then sigh when you put your arm over your eyes as the clock clicks to 04:07AM beside you, this fucking sucks.
You know Hajime will text you an apology when it’s seven am for you and late at night for him, but you put your phone’s ringer on silent to convince yourself that you’re fine and you’re not dependent on his presence at all. That you’re handling yourself just fine and that the anxiety you have every time your mother comes back home from a checkup is something you can deal with by yourself.
You shut your eyes when the dull ache in your chest begins to grow sharper as your thoughts shift from school, to your mom’s illness, to Hajime, and to the fact that you want to cry at the heaviness of everything.
And the frustration is eating you alive because you hate feeling this helpless. Not when your mother taught you nothing but how to be strong your whole life. Not when all you should know is how to stand on your own two feet despite whatever the situation life throws at you.
So when the morning comes and you wake up to a plethora of Hajime’s missed calls and frantic texts asking if you’re okay—you text him an assurance that you’re fine and that he shouldn’t worry about it.
You face the day with everything you feel pushed to the back of your mind. You face the mirror and tell yourself that you’re fine.
-
Hanamaki’s a good friend, and a lot smarter than you give him credit for.
It didn’t fly past him when you left for phone on silent or chose to spend your break with him or Mattsun when you usually would utilize that time for Hajime. But at the same time, he noticed you spacing out in conversations a little more than usual, reject any plans they invited you in, and his least favorite—see you break down in the practice room when you thought no one was around.
Neither he nor Issei chose to tell Hajime or you about it; he could never understand what you were going through—but he understood that the way someone heals differs from person to person.
It took about a few more months of Hajime’s schedule piling up and your silent breakdowns for the both of you to finally snap and confront one another.
It started with Hajime telling you a round of an apology, “I’m sorry, I promise I’ll call you on time—I just,”
“—shit everything’s just crazy. I’m sorry, babe.”
Then you nod and absent mindedly twirl one strand of your hand as you force his apology in one ear and out the other. You were fine. You’re handling things well. You didn’t need Hajime as a support system, so you reply, “It’s fine. I got this.”
And you like to think it was going well, but he asks, “How’s your mom doing?” and your hands are suddenly gripping the edge of the table (where you know he can’t see) tight. You didn’t tell him that she cried from the results when she came home earlier and waved you off when you stood up to help her balance herself. That thirty minutes ago you could hear her yell at your father over the phone about something she didn’t tell you about and that at the moment, you’re thankful for the way your fingers were digging into your skin because it’s helping you re shift your focus into anything but what was going on.
Hajime’s not looking at you because he’s looking at the report he was typing on his laptop instead. So first, you hype yourself up by thinking about how you don’t need anyone to push you through things and that how you’re handling yourself and the situation was more than fine, then, you answer,
“She’s okay, too.”
You try to ignore how gritty it sounded; Hajime doesn’t seem to notice either.
You’re quiet after that and Hajime must have thought it was odd because he pauses his work to look at you and ask, “Are you okay?”
And he says it with such a gentle tone that you suddenly want to crumble and tell him about the heaviness that hasn’t left you since the day your mom began slipping. But a knock from Hajime’s door and a distant call of his name snaps you out of those thoughts. Hajime, on the other hand, ignores them and asks you the question again, which you wave off this time with a quick, “It’s okay you can call me when you’re done.”
He’s hesitant when he leaves and he shoots you a text seconds after his face leaves the screen but you don’t reply; you spend the rest of the night with your face pressed against the pillow while you will yourself to believe that you, alone, have everything under control.
And, really, you should have left it to end like that.
But you don’t; because when morning comes and you wake up feeling heavy, you’re left in a haze where everything feels muddled. And the feeling of screaming hits you so fast and so hard that the dam just breaks.
It’s seven am and you’re crying for reasons you can’t find a starting point to. The kind of cry where every heave hurts and makes you ball your fists because of an unsourced anger. It’s disorienting and frustrating because you’re not mad at specifically anything—but at the same time, everything feels like its swallowing you whole again. You wish you could blank out like the time she told you she was sick—even if it meant moving through your day hyper aware of your movements. But you can’t, because it’s one of those days where the heaviness just sits on your chest and forces you to face the fact that it hurts.
And you always say “it” because you don’t know where to begin. Because you never began; never sat down and looked at your reflection in the eye and asked yourself, “what was wrong?”
Because you’re fine.
Everything’s fine.
It’s still fine because when your phone is ringing, you answer with a fresh face and a smooth, hello.
Hajime greets you like usual, but then settles into a background that isn’t.
You don’t really care.
He asks you how you’ve slept, and you nod once as a reply. He’s chuckling and says something about you looking cute cuddled up in bed, still half asleep so you nod again to go along with his story. Underneath the sheets, you’re fisting the blankets as you count each breath you’ve inhaled and exhaled as Hajime begins to talk about his day.
Then someone, who you can’t recall you know, sits next to him with an arm casually draped over his shoulder and pushes her face near his as she waves a hello. Usually, you’re not much of the jealous type so something like that shouldn’t even be a red flag for you. Hajime was a friendly person all around, and time and time again he’s explained how different the American culture was from home.
Given that fact, on a normal situation it would have been fine. Understandable, even.
But before you could even begin smooth your thoughts back to rationality, you explode. Hajime’s facing away from you in a conversation where he can’t see, so you suppose that could have been a good thing.
Then, your anger comes out.
First, it trickles; you stay silent and opt to stare at him, seething when he finally begins a conversation. Hajime’s eyebrows shoot up just like that and he bids his friend a quick goodbye before rushing into an empty room.
Second, it pools. You tell him a series of things you don’t even think makes sense, but from the way his face morphs into a grimace—it wouldn’t take much to conclude that what you said was something ugly.
Third, you’re wading in waist deep. You’re sitting up and pointing at him, bringing up a photo you saw of him with his arms hung over someone’s shoulder. A classmate, you concluded last week; a lover, you accuse him of having in the moment.
Fourth, Hajime rushes to keep you from going in further. He doesn’t feed into your anger and instead tells you to take a deep breath before talking to him. And for a second, you relent and listen. He explains that she’s a classmate from his biology class and that you’re just overreacting over something that shouldn’t even be an issue.
Fifth, comes the struggle. Your anger flares at his words and everything you’ve felt and pushed underwater suddenly bobs to the surface. Hajime wasn’t at fault, and you know that, but he’s huffing in a way that tells you he’s inches past exhausted and it does nothing to quell your outburst.
“Maybe what you should do is listen to yourself and calm the fuck down,” is what he tells you as you flinch at his tone.
“Well, I’m sorry, for just wanting to talk to you Hajime,” is what you say as retaliation. Hajime’s hand that instantly flies up to soothe his temple doesn’t fly past you.
“We are talking, (y/n). Why are you trying to make me apologize for something I didn’t even do?”
“Why can’t you understand my point? This is exhausting, Hajime.”
“I told you from the beginning. If you didn’t want to keep doing this then we stop,” he retorts, anger steadily rising.
“You’re making it sound like you’re the one wanting to stop this,” you bite back.
“I don’t. But it’s like every time we talk nowadays it’s like you’re being too much, this doesn’t seem like you anymore,” Hajime finishes.
And as the silence settles, everything clicks. You’ve been too dependent, and he feels the same way. He’s right, this isn’t you at all. You shouldn’t need to cling to him to for crumbs of healing; because you’re more than fine.
Have been more than fine, really; so you blank and reply, “You’re right, sorry about that.”
He looks at you, confused, before the silence envelops the two of you again. You allow it to stay this time.
“Maybe we should take a break, (y/n). Just some time to cool off; I feel like we’re just too overloaded right now.”
“We should,” you reply, expression unfazed as you cut the call.
The sixth, is where you allow the anger to stay instead of recede. Your mother asks you how you’re feeling and you’re quick to answer that you’re okay.
Hajime doesn’t text you until an hour later, wanting to talk. You set your phone to silent.
“What made you decide to not get back together with dad?” you ask her when she’s quiet in front of you. Your mother looks at you for a while before she pieces the red eyes and silent phone together, then tells you, “I loved myself more.”
You nod, conflicted. Her eyes were as red as yours and you heard her weeping his name just the night before and she knows you’re aware. Your phone vibrates on the table again and you miss the way her eyes flicker to the device momentarily before focusing them back at you.
Both of you know, but neither of you ask.
“Never lose yourself, right?” you say quietly and she gives you a solid nod as she pours you a cup of coffee.
You never really liked coffee; then again, you never really liked the reality either.
But you take the mug and gulp in the bitterness anyway.
Then finally, the seventh is where you succumb under its waves. Hajime calls you later that night and you answer, expression honed into an almost natural state of indifference. He looks a little worse than you, but you ignore that.
“Is this it?” he asks and you nod curtly once, your fingernails already digging into your palms under the table.
“Are we going to hate each other?” Hajime asks you again and you sigh.
“I don’t have it in me to ever hate you, Haji,” you answer, truthfully and he gives you a halfhearted smile.
“I love you,” he says like he’s just talking about the weather, and stays on the line for a few seconds more before he eventually takes your silence as a response.
“I love you, too,” is what almost comes out of your mouth like second nature, but you bite your tongue anyway.
He can’t hurt you first this way.
-
Sakusa Kiyoomi didn’t really root himself in your life until nine months after your break up with Hajime. Graduation came and went like the unfurling of a leaf, and before you knew it, you’re suddenly in the real world.
Before that, you only knew him as the first chair cellist who you always accidentally locked eyes with in every concert you managed to snag the first chair spot in the first violin’s section.
Bumping into him during morning practice first led to string quartets, then duets during concerts, shared practice rooms—until eventually, he asked you out on a date.
He inserted the question in the conversation so naturally, too. After putting away the music stands, then shoving (in contrast to him neatly arranging) the sheet music into your folder—you were halfway done with loosening your bow when he asked, “Do you wanna get dinner later?” out of the blue.
To others who may have listened in to the conversation, it sounded like a natural invitation between friends, and Kiyoomi must have realized that because he was quick to face you after zipping up the case of his cello, and add, “—I meant dinner with me.”
You were still holding your bow and staring at him stare at you, so he filled the silence with, “Like a date. I’m asking you out on a date, (y/n).”
The two of you never really initiated anything outside the relationship between music partners, and the occasional friendly outing—but it had always been with others. Looking at him, you admit Sakusa Kiyoomi was a man who mastered hygiene. Which was always a bonus in your book. But you think back to Hajime for a second, then click your tongue quietly because you realize you shouldn’t be thinking about him when someone else was asking you out.
But you sigh and still offer him a smile when you reply, “Sorry I gotta watch my mom tonight. She’s not feeling well.”
Kiyoomi nods, and his eyebrows shoot up like he remembered something. “I heard your mom was sick? I’m sorry if I’m prying.”
You nod sharply once before internally groaning then thinking about how to steer the conversation away from the oncoming “I’m sorrys”, “It must be so tough,” or any sympathetic comments of the like.
But Kiyoomi only nods in understanding, briefly turning back to loop his arms through the case, then looking back at you again saying, “Ah. Understandable. My grandmother had cancer and my mom made her this soup that helped with the aching; I can give you the recipe for it.”
Your eyes shoot up at his response and the rehearsed response of, “I have no choice but to be tough for her. It’s okay, though,” dies in your mouth so you close it again and only nod a yes.
Kiyoomi turns to open the door once you had your own violin set inside and stands by the opening of the door to let you out first. You smile; he was mostly reserved, but still a gentleman.
“(Y/n),” he begins when the two of you walk side by side in the quiet morning hallway. “I know you don’t want to hear the pity comments, but I just wanna put it out there that you’re doing well.”
Your steps halt with his when you reach the end of the hallway where the flooring splits into two different directions but you face him, the thrumming of your heart feeling making you a little more choked up than you expected and tell him an honest thank you.
He lifts his right hand as a goodbye while he shoves the other in his pocket after he settles his mask in place, then turns to walk on the opposite direction.
“Sakusa-san!” you call out and he stops a few meters in front of you to turn back in your direction again.
“Dinner!” you call out again, “this weekend!”
You know your cheeks are a little more red than you would have liked and you’re more than aware of how white your knuckles must be from grasping the straps of your case, but you ignore that and add anyway, “As a date.”
The mask covering the lower half of his face obscures the expression he has but you notice the miniscule crinkle on the corner of his eyes when he laughs and replies, “Can you say that a little louder? I can’t hear.”
You huff and action to turn around because the heat on your face was getting a little too uncomfortable, but you hear him say, “It’s a date!” so you nod awkwardly in confirmation before turning your back and walking the opposite way.
You can imagine the look he has on his face and just how much amusement he’s gotten from the interaction but before you walk too far you hear, “Just call me Kiyoomi,” from him behind you.
You smile and feel as if you’re flipping into the first page of a new chapter.
-
In contrast to the push and pull energy you felt with Hajime, after almost being in a relationship with Kiyoomi for a year, things felt easy.
Communication between the two of you didn’t feel like unraveling codes; plus, being in the same department also meant your schedules mostly linked up. Though, personally, your favorite part was that he was never too pushy with the things you wanted to deal with alone.
He knew not to pry when you walked in the practice hall with bags under your eyes holding a cup of coffee you swore to heaven and back you detested drinking; you always saw a parcel of your comfort snack with a note laid beside your violin case in the locker room, though.
And when he ate dinner at your house, he also kept his comments to himself and never let his eyes wander to the amount of pills you had to help your mother count out when the little alarm in your phone rang. Then again, you never needed to question his intentions when he showed up the next day with a thermos filled with the soup your mom said she enjoyed once as a passing comment.
He’s always been one to remember the smaller details.
Along with preferring to stay in his personal space, Kiyoomi wasn’t one to smile too bashfully, but you can’t help but notice that when she laid her hands on his as a thank you and asked him to take care of you—the smile that graced his face looked warm.
She said that Kiyoomi seemed like a nice boy, and you agreed instantly—because he is.
He never pushed past the boundary you kept around yourself despite entering into a new relationship. There was a mutual air of respect—and neither of you expressed the desire to breech it.
Being with Kiyoomi felt as natural and in order to the flow as it does when your hands move to automatically loosen your bow when it came to packing up, or beginning with the A string when the conductor motioned for you to begin tuning.
You liked to think you fit quite well together. Like the duet that an audience listens to and clap at as if they were the whole orchestra. Like the blend of the high and low notes written on a score that collides in perfect harmony.
And it feels like it too.
Every time you’re seated across each other on the stage and you’re staring straight at one another to climb with the crescendo then descend into silence—you know that your heart, along with his, are beating in the same rhythm, with the same frequency. You’ve always found that break from the real world when you picked up an instrument and you’re glad that Kiyoomi’s the one you’re entering into that dimension with.
The ten minutes on stage feels timeless. The rush from the music still resonates in an infinite echo—your fingers twitching, craving, to fly across the notes in an encore. You’re smiling because when you stare at him—he’s smiling too. Unabashed and sparkling where you have no doubt in your mind that even without the stage lights he’d gleam the same.
And even as the crowd’s still cheering as you stand hand in hand and bow next to each other, you don’t hear anything. When reality begins to trickle into your senses and the rush of intoxication wears off, you let your smile mellow into a soft curve. You face the front row and look at the seat that’s a little towards the left and try not to notice your mother’s absence. You know she was admitted to the hospital three weeks ago and she hasn’t been doing too well. Kiyoomi squeezes your hand and whispers a, “you did well,” which you nod at.
He’s still smiling even as you exit the stage and pack up your instruments so you decide not to tell him that the boy sitting in that specific seat reminded you of Hajime.
-
Hajime, on the other hand became the contact on your inbox that got pushed down further and further when the holidays passed. You meant it when you said that you could never hate him—because you know you never really could.
He still showed up on your Instagram feed posting photos about his weekend road trips to Malibu or the spontaneous trips to Vegas his new friends looped him into—and you were happy to see him glowing. More times than not, your finger would hover over the like or send button to the comment you always end up deleting and you know it shouldn’t be that way. But reality reminds you that it is.
Your reality reminds you that Iwaizumi Hajime is someone who was witness to your growth and decline and that he was someone you chose to leave in the past.
But at the same time, his passing hellos were never left unheard. Kiyoomi knew, and like always, respected that. You would think this is the part where he should be reacting a little more aggressively, but you knew him to be above petty actions. He was secure, and he let that security be known in the grip of his hand that remained steady against yours when either Hanamaki’s or Issei’s eyes would stare a bit too long. They too, let their hesitations be known when you first introduced Kiyoomi to the both of them.
Issei opened his mouth with what looked to be the beginnings of a retaliation, but Hanamaki cut him off swiftly with a resounding, “We’re happy for you,” that promptly ended the conversation at that.
Then again, it didn’t change the fact that it was after that night where Hajime’s texts to you eventually dwindled to the seasonal greetings.
You tell yourself you don’t mind.
Because you don’t.
Because you’re fine.
-
Your mother isn’t fine.
Even though she’s been hospitalized for the past four weeks now, the past week has been specifically the most difficult. In and out of consciousness where different tubes were stuck and different needles prodded at her skin every day. It killed you because the second you heard her cry from when she thought you were still asleep rang in your ears over and over again throughout the day that resulted in you missing rehearsals for that entire week.
Kiyoomi drops by after school along with Hanamaki and Issei to check up on the both of you, but eventually leave when visiting hours end.
Kiyoomi usually stays a while longer, though; sitting outside the hospital parking lot and talking over a cup of coffee became a temporary permanent for the both of you during those weeks.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, then scoots closer to you on the bench when you exhale a sigh and lean forward. When your elbows settle into a rest on your thighs, you turn to him, offering a smile. It looked more like a sad quirk of the lip but Kiyoomi must have appreciated it more than he let on because his posture relaxes with you as he exhales.
“It’s weird, Omi,” you begin. “I mean she’s been at the hospital for treatments and checkups before but this is weird.”
Beside you, he stays quiet, and despite the distant noise of traffic in the background your voice sounds a little more amplified than you would have liked. None the less, you continued, “I’ve always known she hasn’t been fine but the past week just happened so fast.”
Puffing out another breath, you watch as it leaves you in a cloud before bringing the rim of the coffee cup to your lips. You don’t take a sip. Coffee was never your favorite anyway.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks you and turns his body completely to face you.
You think about it, then sigh. You don’t; at least, not yet.
“It’s okay, she’s strong,” you tell him and raise your cup as you shoot him another smile.
“So are you,” he offers as a reply, then knocks his cup against yours softly, chuckling when your face grimaces at the taste.
“Why do you always order coffee when you hate it?” he asks as he watches you take another sip.
You laugh, then scoot closer to lean your head on his shoulder. “It’s just practical,” you answer. “It helps me stay up so even if I’d rather get the peach tea, I know that one will knock me out within an hour from all the sugar.”
Kiyoomi laughs at your reply before looping his arm through yours and threading your fingers together.
“You can loosen up time to time, you know,” he tells you and you smile a smile that strains both the muscles on your face and feeling in your chest.
“I wish I could,” you answer.
-
“Are you happy?” your mother asks you later that night.
The question catches you off guard and you take a seat on her bed next to her. You don’t look at each other and instead look at the wall that’s in front of you, so, tentatively, you reply, “Of course I am.”
And she’s quiet after that so you return her silence and continue to sit next to her.
The clock hanging above the door of her hospital room ticks slowly and for a while you’re comfortable. At this point you aren’t sure whether you wanted time to move faster or slower—because you knew the moments you spend with her are granted through borrowed time.
Time that’s borrowed from the prayers you kneel and voice out every night, the needles and tubes that poke and prod at her skin every day, and from the pills you help count out every time your alarm rings.
She began slipping the minute she told you she was sick—and along the years you knew she let herself slide along the current more carelessly every time she told you she was tired.
You’re looking at her when she touches your hand and you try not to flinch at how cold her skin’s gotten. She’s smiling when you face her and it makes you inhale in a way that hurts because the look on her face practically just tells you she’s tired.
But like the two of you had always done: you stay silent and mirror your smiles instead.
“I’m proud of you,” she says and your heart breaks as you will yourself to not cry. It occurs to you that she isn’t crying when she says it because her voice is resolute as it is soft. You want to ask her why she’s proud of you but you don’t because you realize when this becomes a memory you just want to leave it at that.
You want to leave it as a moment where a mother is telling a child that she’s proud of her.
So instead, you ask her, “Are you coming to see the concert with me and Kiyoomi in a few weeks?” just to make sure. That she’s still there; that she will still be there.
Her silence is your answer before she’s reaching out between the two of you and squeezing your hands instead.
-
On a Tuesday morning the next week she passes away at 3:08 PM with her eyes closed and face serene. The nurses tell you she opened her eyes to look at the world once more before she closed them and exhaled her last breath.
She was probably looking for you, they mean to say, but you bow your head in thanks when the medical staff offer their heartfelt condolence. You aren’t sure if you wanted to see her close her eyes for her last breath, but at the same time—you wonder if that thought was too selfish on your part.
When you’re in the car in the parking lot of the hospital grounds, you smell her perfume—lilac, so you close your eyes and tell her soul rest easy and I love you.
You text Kiyoomi to meet you in the practice room to go over the score once more after you gave yourself a few more moments to pull yourself together.
He texts you back with an, “are you sure?” so you sigh because he must have already realized what happened. Your fingers hover over the keypad of your phone as you think of an excuse to cancel plans last minute but Kiyoomi’s contact photo on your phone interrupts your thoughts in a call.
Despite your hesitation, your finger press the green to answer the call almost immediately.
“(Y/n?)”
“Hey,” you respond.
“Want me to come get you?” Kiyoomi asks and you notice how much softer his tone is.
“I can still drive, it’s okay—“
“—Are you okay?” he cuts you off and you nod your head frantically. It felt too automatic, and that thought didn’t fly by you, so you sigh.
Kiyoomi notices your silence over the line but he stays and for that you’re grateful. He isn’t really pushing you and you feel a sense of gratitude again because you don’t exactly know what to say either.
Before you could reassure him that you’re in a sense, “okay,” his voice breaks the silence over the line again.
“No one else is here, so I’ll wait for you if you’re coming.”
The smile that breaks on your face is one of relief, or at least you think it is, because your eyes are stinging and you hear yourself sniffle when you tell him a quiet okay, and thank you.
“I love you,” is what you think you hear Kiyoomi say as you cut the call and put the car in reverse.
-
“Sakusa Kiyoomi present here?” you call out with a slight chuckle as you push open the door and peek in the room.
His head snaps towards you immediately so you offer him a sheepish smile at best when you finally arrive in front of him. Kiyoomi’s eyes are softening in the way that has your heart constricting automatically so you cast your gaze down and immediately fidget with the zipper on your violin case. The steps he takes are heavy and audible in the wooden flooring so your heart hammers even more when you hear him cross the distance between the two of you.
“(Y/n),” he starts and you look up when his hands are on your shoulder. They feel warm, you think, much like the look you see in his eyes when he steadies his gaze towards you.
Kiyoomi joins you in your silence when you choose to remain in it and respond to him by only stitching on another smile. The palm of his hand is still warm on your shoulder but you try to focus on anything but the waves of his sympathy and presence because you know the second you step back in reality, you’ll break—again.
So when his hand squeezes your shoulder and he parts his lips to say the condolence you don’t know when you’re ever going to be ready for, you cut him off.
“Please don’t,” you tell him, and it’s said with a tone that’s clipped tight and with lips pulled into a straight smile—the kind where you can already feel the edges crack with every second that passes.
Kiyoomi sighs and stares at you, but backs down when he feels your body tense.
“I’m right here,” he reassures, as you cast your gaze to the side when you feel the sting in your eyes threaten to overpower you.
“I know,” you reply and with that he turns and takes his seat again.
The two of you are facing each other when you have your fingers on your respective positions and bow hovered over the string. The metronome in the background ticks and you close your eyes desperate to slip out and slip in to focus. The disconnection almost happens automatically because as soon as you hear yourself verbally count to start, your hand with the bow twitches and—
“(Y/n),” Kiyoomi cuts off and your movements automatically halt. The tone of his voice is solid and just like that you feel yourself begin to crumble; still, you try to harden, anyway.
“What’s up?” you say and open your eyes to look at him. The cello you thought was resting between his legs is set down next to his chair and his bow is on the music stand; he looks at you—intention transparent at this point.
“I love you,” he says. “Please talk to me—“he pleads, but you cut him off.
“Omi,” you begin. “I know what you want to tell me and I know you mean well, because you always do. But please—“you pause and look at him with as much intensity as you could muster before continuing, “—let me pretend like today is just a day where we’re practicing for the concert she could have finally gone to.”
Across you, his body leans forward before eventually halting at the sight of you tightening your grip on your bow.
“Just let me pretend this is a normal practice and I’ll be home later with someone still waiting inside the house,” you continue, volume rising but resolve shaking.
“Please,” you finish before tucking the violin back between your chin and shoulder and raising your bow to signal the start. Kiyoomi relents with a sigh and picks up his cello and bow before looking at you.
“Ready?” he asks when his bow is positioned above the string.
“Always am,” you reply and close your eyes as you slip back in focus and feel the bow glide into the first note.
The first note is an A, so you place your fourth finger on the D string and slip into your empty realm with a vibrato.
A memory flashes; you’re in the sixth grade again. It’s September, and you finally make it home with your new violin case in hand. Your mom comes home from work and smiles at you as you point at the strings and name them in the order your orchestra teacher had you memorize earlier.
“This one’s the A string,” you say and you see her smile like she’s proud of you.
The next note makes you climb to the third position, and you could recall that the dynamic changes around this measure, so along with Kiyoomi you’re pressing a little harder.
“We learned the third position today!” you hear your own voice say. It’s your second year playing and you’ve made it to the honors orchestra. Your mom sits in the living room, watching you with a twinkle in her eye that tells you she’s more than proud as you show her the arpeggio practice you learned earlier that day.
The next few notes fly across the fingerboard as the familiar crescendo builds. The depth of Kiyoomi’s strings blends with the octave you’re playing at as you feel yourself being swallowed and wading in your thoughts deeper and deeper until—
You stop.
Because with your eyes still closed, you suddenly see her from the night before. Your mother with the glimmering eyes and fragile hands, wearing the red beanie she said was her favorite ever since her hair fell out. And your eyes are still closed when you hear her tell you that she’s proud of you, her voice bringing you back to that night where you wanted to do nothing more but let your defenses down.
So involuntarily you do; your eyes are still closed when you begin to weep, but you can hear movement from the background before you eventually hear Kiyoomi call, “(Y/n),”
“I’m sorry,” you say and frantically wipe away at the tears and cough out the cries threatening to overflow and spill.
“(Y/n),” Kiyoomi says again and you look up.
His chair is turned so that he sits facing away from you. Your forehead scrunches with the peculiarity.
“Kiyo-“
“Just let it out,” he says then picks up his cello and continues playing from the measure you stopped at.
Then you do.
Like a thread snapping, a cry rips its way out of your throat as you finally, finally allow yourself to feel the heaviness that’s long settled in your chest. Your violin along with your bow set on the floor as you crouch down and press the heels of your palms against your eyes.
It hurts, you realize, when every time you close your eyes you still see her. You still hear her tell you her goodnight stories, affirmations, and reassurances.
It hurts, because you’re tired. Tired of living in the world trying to be the adult you know you aren’t just yet. You’re tired of going home and smiling with her when you could tell the reason why she has tear tracks on her cheeks was because of the call with your father you overheard from the night before.
Because you’re angry, you think. You’re angry at her illness. At your father for leaving and giving the weight of being a parent and provider at the same time. At the fact that neither of you were ever vulnerable enough to even cry in front of each other, and angry at yourself for never having the courage to tell her that it’s okay.
Because all this time you’re been struggling. Struggling to try to always be an adult when you never closed the chapter of your childhood. That you’ve always struggled to push past every affirmation that you’re okay and every single one of those moments were just bouts of false confidence. And it’s exhausting to put up a front to your own reflection.
Even when nothing has really been okay. You’re hurting even more when you realize that so you clutch your chest and cry harder.
This must be the consequence of pride, is the thought that comes to your head. You could build the strongest walls and wrap yourself in the most intricate barriers just to act tough but in time, you will break.
Like now; you’re sobbing into your palms for the years’ worth of pain you let pride push away while Kiyoomi is climbing even higher than the strongest dynamic you know the piece calls for.
You know he wants to let you know that it’s okay, and that you’re safe. His message resonates in pure clarity as he pushes on the strings harder and harder to swallow the sounds of your cries.
His back remains turned as you look at him, still crying, while your thanks bubbles out as incoherent as your cries.
It hurts, because you the only person you’ve cradled in your hands to heavens far higher than the ones you’ve known is gone.
You’re still crying and the pain in your chest is still stinging much like the pain from a reopened wound does, but you let him come to you as he lets you come to him in an embrace.
“Let it out,” he murmurs in your hair as you wrap your hands around his middle and cry into the fabric of his shirt. He’s probably a little uncomfortable at you sniffling right into his shirt, but the way his hands are rubbing circles on your back reassures you otherwise.
“You’re okay,” Kiyoomi says again and you cry harder because you want to believe him.
Five missed calls and seven texts messages all coming from Hajime lays unopened on your phone at 6:17PM.
-
“She asked me if I was happy,” is what you tell Kiyoomi as the two of you stand side by side peering over her casket some days later.
“Are you?” he asks and you smile at him in a way that tells him that at the moment you’re not.
“Will you be happy?” comes the question after that and you shrug.
The lines on her face are like always, and the mole between her brows look the same. Your mother lays still in the casket, cheeks pink from the blush they put on her and lips red. You think your mother’s friends told the funeral workers to paint them her usual color, so you’re thankful for that. She looks like she’s just asleep—and you don’t know how to feel.
You want to reach out and hold her hand but you know the skin will be stiff and cold; you don’t want to remember her touch like that.
To you, she’s still alive.
She always will be alive.
Kiyoomi’s hand grasps yours in a way that’s as gentle as his presence has always been. When you look up then right to meet his eyes: looking like warmth despite the depth that it has words rolling out of your lips before you could comprehend the situation.
“I will be.”
Kiyoomi smiles and you look back down without bothering to further explain your answer.
You know he always believes you. The sentiment is one you appreciate, but at the same time, you’re not sure if you even believe yourself at the moment. You have to be strong, you think.
And just like that your defenses climb back up.
-
Takahiro along with Issei make it to the funeral along with Tooru and Hajime skyping in from overseas. It wasn’t as awkward like you expected it to be, and you’re glad.
Tooru’s crying along with Hajime and the rest of you as you watch her return to the opened earth.
You’ve dried your tears by the time you face Tooru and Hajime on the laptop screen, the grief on their faces similar to the one on yours.
“(Y/n),” Hajime starts, and you nod, waiting for him to continue. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m okay,” you respond, gaze focused to the left side of the screen—Tooru’s side.
Even though all you could see was Tooru’s expression on the screen tearing up with yours, you ignore the telltale scrunch of Hajime’s forehead where you know confirms his disbelief over your words.
“I’m coming home next week. Got a job offer there,” Hajime’s voice cuts again and before you could respond Tooru’s voice thrums over the speaker as you feel Kiyoomi’s hand settle on your shoulder.
“You okay?” he asks you when you look up at him. Nodding your head, you shoot him a smile before turning back to the screen, one hand resting on top of Kiyoomi’s.
“This is Kiyoomi,” you introduce and feel yourself unintentionally holding in a breath as you sit and watch for Hajime’s reaction. He’s quiet; eyes steeled over and form rigid. Probably just a trick of the camera, you tell yourself, so you open your mouth hoping to find an excuse and end the call early but Tooru’s voice overlaps yours for the second time that day.
“Ahh! The boyfriend?” He asks and you smile as you see him leaning closer to his laptop’s camera. You had to hand it to him; you know that look. Tooru was someone who could craft a mask and uphold it for as long as he needs and every time it was flawless.
Which was why when Kiyoomi bows his head in a greeting and greets, “It’s nice to meet you,” in the tone he used with your mother, you know he hadn’t caught on to the fact that he was facing a façade.
“Likewise,” Hajime’s voice cuts through and you try to not shiver at the intensity of it.
“Let’s catch up when I get home?” he says again; this time, softer and you nod before you could think of a response.
“Take care,” is the last thing you hear from him before the camera on his side of the screen blinks back to black and Tooru’s face magnified and centered.
“He’s finally coming home, (y/n)-chan,” Tooru smiles and at the sincerity of his voice you smile along with him.
“He finally is.”
-
Hajime had always been, and always will be your first love. You found yourself choked up the second you see him wave at you from the arrival’s gate and you swore in that moment hugging him felt like coming home.
Which was because of nostalgia, you told yourself. There had been so many firsts and memories shared with him that you know just because you moved forward with your life—that didn’t mean you’d buried what you had with him in the past.
“Sakusa Kiyoomi?” he asks when you’ve settled in the grass next to your mother’s tombstone with him across you.
“Yeah, he actually played for Itachiyama back in high school,” you say.
“Volleyball player turned classical musician?” he asks and you nod with a resonating yup, your hand trailing down to the grass to pick on the blades aimlessly.
“He made it to nationals too,” you comment.
“Are you trying to just rub it in?” he asks and tosses some ripped grass your way. You move to the side and stick your tongue out at him which he laughs at. Hajime’s laugh reminds you of the summer afternoons in your childhood home where you’d chase cicadas and write memories in polaroids and you’re suddenly feeling nostalgic.
“Nah,” you say and smile as you look up at him. He’s facing his right and letting his eyes glaze over the gold paint of your mother’s name on the cement.
“I miss her,” Hajime whispers and you nod, your heart squeezing.
“I do too,” you reply and when he looks at you and meets your eyes, you catch yourself smiling because he has tears threatening to spill over the waterline too. “Every day,” you continue.
“You’re making me cry,” Hajime huffs and leans back facing the front after he wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie.
“Your fault for still being soft,” you laugh. Unlike you, he’s always been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve.
“I’m sorry,” Hajime begins after the moments of recollection passes. You look at him and smile, not really sure whether you even have the desire to push through with the conversation or not. “Why are you even sorry?” is what you want to ask him, but you hear yourself say, “it’s okay, Haji,” instead.
“We could have made it,” he says again, his voice cracking as he looks at you.
“Could have,” you repeat and offer him a halfhearted smile at best.
“Do you regret us?” Hajime asks and he seems hesitant with his answer; like he doesn’t want to know your answer. You shake your head no as soon as you meet his eyes and reach your hands out in the space between you.
“Never,” you say and squeeze his hands when he takes yours into his own.
“You’re going to make me cry, again. Shit,” he laughs and this time, you laugh along with him.
The afternoon, despite the September air feels warm. Almost like the summer afternoons back home. So when you close your eyes, you let your defenses down as you imagine sitting in the garden: the one with the yellow and pink flowers, shouting promises in the air with Hajime and Tooru as the three of you let the wonder of childhood guide your idea of reality.
You decide that for just a while longer, you’ll keep those same defenses down as you feel Hajime pull you to stand up with him and face the open field behind the cross of her name.
“Wanna see if we can find cicadas?” he grins and you laugh, replying, “What are we, twelve?” as you follow him and break out into a run anyway.
It was in that afternoon that you realize, Hajime’s always felt like home. His presence always meant that your thoughts jumped back to the days where you watched his hair spike and grow like flowers from a garden blooming and wilting. To the days where talks of the future were shared over a dinner rolls and laughter. To the days where telling someone “I love you,” felt as natural as if you were just talking about the weather.
Hajime reminded you of losing yourself in the kind of love that felt unabashed and boundless. Like running on fields where the sun remained in the golden hour indefinitely. He was the first love you’ve cradled with a heart that was still a stranger to the ways of the reality.
“Are you happy?” he asks you when the sun above breathes the beginnings of a goodbye. You recognize the question your mother asked you before she passed and in that moment you close your eyes and envision yourself in a different year.
“I am,” you whisper back earnestly and your heart flutters with every corner of the wall that crumbles down as you stare back at him.
He looks at you like he wants to ask a question but the thought of Kiyoomi flashes in your mind. Your eyes scan the flecks of emerald in Hajime’s as you close your eyes and feel yourself retreat along with the setting sun. The warmth in your chest remains as you think of Kiyoomi.
Kiyoomi who told you to let it out and let it go. Kiyoomi with the midnight eyes who spoke of the answers to the questions you have yet to discover.
“I have to be happy,” is what you tell Hajime again and the smile he gives you is soft. Like he wants to dive down your thoughts more but instead chooses to remain anchored outside your walls.
But you still lean into his embrace as he pats your shoulder when you tell your mother goodbye.
She must be happy, you think to yourself. Because today was an afternoon spent in the sun like she was alive again.
A text from Kiyoomi to you and one from Issei to his brings you back to the present. You wave goodbye to the photograph of her on the tombstone while Hajime leaves a yellow flower he picked under the sun by her name.
He smiles and you hear him say he’ll walk you home.
Your heart thrums; it’s almost like he never left.
-
Hajime won’t leave.
Despite your intention for him to not show up to your house being extremely blunt in your text message, he shows up thirty minutes after Kiyoomi’s parked into your driveway.
“Hajime,” he grins, introducing himself with a hand stretched out in greeting as Kiyoomi looks at it in contemplation. You watch the two of them, three feet away and anxious at their first time face to face interaction.
“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” your boyfriend says and reaches out to shake his hand. You could practically feel yourself sigh in relief.
“Haji, you didn’t have to come,” you say and shoot him a tight lipped smile. “Omi and I can handle the boxes, plus there’s not much left to pack up anyway.”
“So,” Hajime begins, turning around and blatantly ignoring what you just said. “Makki says there’s some heavier stuff in the attic? I can help you with that.”
Kiyoomi looks at you as you eventually sigh and nod at him to follow Hajime up into the attic.
-
For the rest of the day it went on like that. At every hint you dropped in regards to the lack of necessity for Hajime’s presence—he’s suddenly tuning out and changing the topic. It was like he couldn’t hear. You huff when Kiyoomi shoots you a look that hints his amusement towards your predicament.
Hajime’s time in California surely must have rubbed off on him.
“You two shared a lot of memories,” Kiyoomi comments after he sees Hajime point at a trinket and recall a story.
“We grew up together,” you reply and Hajime nods along with you, smiling.
“I knew she was gonna be a real one when she didn’t chicken out from catching cicadas with me,” Hajime laughs across you.
“You used to catch cicadas?” Kiyoomi questions, eyebrow quirking up. You had to fight the urge to smile at the way his two moles scrunched together.
“Used to,” you answer and grip the photo album in your hand before placing it into the box. It was one of your favorites, you remember. You spent your summer nights pasting stickers and writing captions into the photos your mom took of you, Hajime, Tooru and your dog. There were probably a few in there that were with her, but you decide you can put off the nostalgic trip for later as you shut the book and tuck it into a corner of the box.
“Sakusa,” Hajime initiates when the three of you stand back up, stretching then facing each other: Kiyoomi to your left and Hajime across the two of you. “Take care of her will you?”
“I plan to,” Kiyoomi replies beside you and you reach to squeeze his hand as you watch him offer Hajime a sincere smile.
“Can you give us a moment?” you ask Kiyoomi and he’s quick to nod.
“Thanks,” you say and lean into his kiss on your forehead before watching him grab the remaining box and make his way out the door.
Hajime stands in front of you with his hands shoved in his pockets.
“He’s a good guy,” he tells you and you smile gently, head nodding in agreement to his words.
“One of the best,” you reply, smiling.
“You’re happy right?” Hajime says more than asks, but before you could answer, he speaks again.
“I’m here for you, always,” he confesses quietly and you swallow thickly because you could already decipher the meaning behind his words.
“Who’s going to pull your scarf to remind you that it’s cold?” Hajime declares softly and you knit your eyebrows together as you tell him that you can do it yourself.
“I know you can,” he laughs and walks closer to you as he tugs off his own scarf and wraps it around your neck.
“I just like doing it for you.”
-
“Earlier,” Kiyoomi begins after he’s settled in the couch of your new apartment’s living room. You turn to face him, attention in focus then wait for him to continue.
“When we were upstairs Iwaizumi-san asked where you were moving.”
“Oh yeah? I forgot I didn’t tell him my new address, thanks for remi—“
“He asked again if we were going to be moving in together and I didn’t answer,” he swiftly cuts you off. You stare back at him, confused, then nod your head urging him to continue.
“I didn’t answer him at first because I wanted to see how he’d react.”
“Omi—“
“(Y/n),” he sighs. You blink back, confused.
“He still loves you.”
Kiyoomi says this like he’s just talking about the weather and because of that you’re suddenly aware of fast the room dipped into the newfound silence. Your heart hammers in your chest while you feel your hands curl into a familiar fist; fingernails automatically moving to dig into the flesh of your palms.
“Of course he does, I do too—“you reason, but his expression shifting has you revising your choice of words.
“I will always love him, Omi. Haji was my friend before he became anyone else,” you explain, softly, and reach out to take his hand in yours. He smiles at you and you mirror it, appreciating the way he didn’t pull out of your touch.
“Is that it?” he asks before you look at him, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.
“What else is there?” you laugh and shift your focus to his hand on yours.
“Are you really happy?”
“With this?” he questions again and sits up, taking both of your hands in his. Kiyoomi stares with baited breath, so when the silence buzzes in your ear even louder, you nod.
“With us?” Kiyoomi whispers and the echo it delivers rings loud. You hear his question ricochet from the walls to your ears over and over again while you stare straight into the plethora of questions he chooses not to vocalize manifesting themselves in his eyes.
Then, almost slowly, you nod. Because you are happy, though more so thankful. But that’s still happiness, the voice in your head reasons, so you relent and cup his face.
“You’re my blessing, Kiyoomi,” is the truth that’s spoken from your lips as you watch something living unfold in his.
“I love you,” is what he says and you nod, speechless, as he presses his forehead against yours because you feel everything in his words.
“Are you happy?” he asks again when you part and you smile, remembering your mother and Hajime’s words. The sentiment in his question is one of honesty, that in that moment, it suddenly fills you with newfound warmth.
“She asked me the same thing,” you answer, vulnerable. Kiyoomi always had a way that made it okay to feel vulnerable.
“Because I think she knows your answer,” he tells you quietly and what he says makes you think of his words.
“I’ll get there,” is what you planned to answer but before you could get the words out you’re suddenly widening your eyes as you see Kiyoomi shift and bend down on one knee in front of you, a ring in his hand.
-
Three years later | Italics in flashback
For the first time in your life everything felt connected.
From the pin that held your veil together, to the yellow and pink roses that bloomed along an aisle of white.
Everything felt like it was finally in place as Tooru took one look at you from behind the doors and teared up.
“Please don’t make me cry,” you tell him and smile as you loop your arm through his.
“This is payback for making me cry when you asked if I could give you away,” he laughed before dabbing at the corners of his eyes.
“Thank you, Tooru,” you whisper as he gives you one final look. The browns of his eyes reminded you that you are loved.
“Your mom would be so happy now,” is his reply as the doors open.
She would be happy, you think as you take one, two, then four steps forward as you grip your bouquet tighter. The pendant with her photo is surrounded in gold plating, and you find yourself thinking that nothing suited her better than gold.
To and for you, she had always been golden.
You feel Tooru part with you midway as he lets you walk the final stretch alone. It was supposed to be the other way around, Issei commented before, but Takahiro was quick to side with you and say it was fitting. Even if Tooru stood in your parent’s place to symbolize giving you away, a parent’s job is really just to walk with you to the halfway mark in life and let you walk the rest of the way alone.
You find yourself smiling at the memory.
The engagement ring on your left finger catches the light from the photographer’s flash as the first notes of a cello play.
“I would ask you to marry me but I know you’re going to tell me no,” Kiyoomi tells you.
“I don’t know you, yet, (y/n). But I know you just enough to know there’s some things you are choosing to not let go of.”
You watch him stare at you, eyes soft and understanding you’re suddenly overcome with the urge to cry again.
From the aisle, your eyes catch Kiyoomi’s as he stares back at you, beautiful and iridescent in the light. He’s always looked the most beautiful when he felt connected with music, you think. Much like now, as he presses harder on the strings and close his eyes to slip into the element.
“It’s okay,” Kiyoomi soothes, and reaches forward to wipe the tear sliding down your cheek.
“I don’t think I got to know you, just yet. I only saw bits of who you were under that exterior and neither of us know if we could work as well then if we lay ourselves bare now,” he continues and you nod, understanding his point.
“I love how resilient you are, (y/n),” Kiyoomi whispers and you smile because his voice isn’t cracking. He’s okay with this, and somehow, that lifts the heaviness in your chest. “I love how you never break despite the situation, but I’ve only known that side of you so far.”
“You deserve someone who’s seen you from the start. I can stay and we can work this out, but I don’t know if I’ll love you then. Iwaizumi loved you then and now, and I think you still do too. I could never take you away from that.”
“I don’t want to ask you who you are yet,” he says and you nod telling him you’re still getting to know yourself too.
“She’ll be proud of you regardless,” Kiyoomi finishes and with that you sob.
Kiyoomi opens his eyes and looks at you with a smile while he continues to play. Thank you, you mouth telling him, and he smiles as he plays harder.
“For what it’s worth,” you begin. “I know,” Kiyoomi finishes and the smile on his face is as sincere as his words. “Our time will always be a part in history that will be ours.”
You inhale, smile, and then cup his face in your hands. “It will always be priceless,” you add.
This was a piece you recognized from years ago, you recall with a smile. If you had your violin with you, it wouldn’t take much for you to remember the score and slip into a duet with him. The dynamics, you recognized too—and the way Kiyoomi’s playing only tells you he’s playing even louder.
Three years ago he played the same piece you would have played for the concert your mom would have finally made it to. The same day she died you sat in a practice room with Kiyoomi, crying your heart out as the he plays the same melody you’re walking to now.
Let it out, is what he told you and you did just that.
Let it go, is what he also wants you to know and you did that too.
All your life you’ve thought of love and thought it was lost when you lost her. Kiyoomi, you realize, is the love you were just beginning to learn. The love you’ve parted with before you tangled yourself in too deep; and perhaps in another lifetime you could chase each other bare bones and all, but in this life you know Hajime is the love you thought you closed the door to despite leaving it ajar.
One last look at Kiyoomi lets you see that he closes his eyes as you turn away and face forward.
And when you do, you see colors.
Green from his eyes, like the leaves on your bouquet and the grass outside your childhood home. A yellow flower pinned on his breast pocket; the color from the petals of a flower your mother loved to grow the most. Pink; like the color his cheeks turned into when you first shook his hand.
Then when he smiles at you—you feel a sense of home. When you see him begin to cry, you feel a sense of love that washes over you like the soft waves of the shallow end.
Steady, constant, and safe.
Love, like the words your mother wrote to you in a letter you discovered in an old journal. Where she wrote that even if she never had your father to love, she found her love in you. To be cradled in you so that was enough for her.
That she knew she was strong, but even more so because her strength was drawn from being with you.
Love, like the words from a friend as you remember Kiyoomi’s reminder that it’s okay to take that hand that just wants to pull you out of the deep end.
Love, like the awakening from the depth and seeing that Hajime is the hand that’s been there all along and you have yet to take.
Love, you remember like your mother’s voice.
Love, like the one that has been with you since the beginning. Because you were loved from the very start.
And Hajime—whose name spoke of beginnings.
for my mother whose love cradled me from the beginning. may you rest where the flowers bloom the most beautiful. i love you.
#haikyuu#haikyuucreations#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu scenarios#hq x reader#hq scenarios#hq angst#haikyuu angst#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa#iwaizumi hajime#oikawa tooru#hanamaki takahiro#matsukawa issei#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa kiyoomi scenarios#iwaizumi hajime x reader#iwaizumi hajime scenarios#sakusa x reader#iwaizumi x reader#sakusa kiyoomi imagines#sakusa imagines#sakusa kiyoomi fluff#iwaizumi hajime fluff#itachiyama#seijoh#seijoh x reader#iwaizumi scenarios
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Hi, can I request one where Levi and his fem s/o are invited to a party organized by the military police? Although she hates the military police, the reader decides to go to the party to spend time having fun with Levi and her friends to disconnect once from her duty, when the reader asks Levi to go to the party with her he refuses by saying that it is a stupid thing, the reader is sad and disappointed. The reader is invited shortly after by a friend of hers and she accepts. When Levi finds out he gets angry and jealous and tries to convince the reader not to go to the party but being Levi he is unable to express himself in the best way and ends up offending the reader. Levi decides to follow the reader and her friend to the party. Having noticed that Levi was following them, the friend of the reader suggests to the reader to go and clarify things with Levi and the reader decides to follow her friend's advice. Eventually Levi and the reader make up and are able to communicate better. Thank you so much and sorry for my bad English❤️
Levi X Reader | The Ball
Masterlist
Levi and you have been dating for a while now, one of the things that bonded you together in the first place was you two hating military police to your guts. But because of your posts, you two cannot really show it that often but initially you two spent a lot of time bitching about them. You still do that lol.
But since you two have been promoted, both of you have very little time to spend with one another, and the fact that you two feel so distant sometimes scared you. Lately, you have been noticing things a lot because of your overthinking self taking over you.
Even though you knew how busy he was, still your brain was convinced that he wasn't putting in many efforts into this relationship like you were. Which sometimes pissed you off but you being you, you never communicated it with him because you didn't want to "bother" him. To him, everything wasn't the best either but at least you two weren't on bad terms and understood each other's position.
When you ask him to go with you to the ball so that you two can finally have a relaxing night with each other, he refused. With a straight face and tried to convince you to not go there either. But this only pissed you off even more and you decided you were going anyways. With or without him.
You asked your friend to accompany you and she was hesitant first knowing that you were planning on going with Levi but why were you suddenly asking her? As you explained, Levi heard everything. He didn't say anything then since you were with her but he asked you once you both reached his home.
"Are you going to that stupid thing even after I told you not to?" with annoyance lingering on his face. You just said yes with a straight face and heading to the bedroom. Which pissed him off, even more, to come after you and he shouted, "You know this could be a trap right? And you're walking right into it!" To which you replied," Oh come on Levi! Why can't you just take a very simple thing as it is?! Why are you making a big deal out of it?! You are not going there anyway so why do you care?"
"Why do I-" he stopped mid-sentence observing you and said, "Fine, looks like you've made up your mind then, go by yourself! If you get in trouble don't expect me to come to your rescue like I always do!" He shouted the last sentence. It hurt more because it sounded as if he didn't consider you strong and capable of taking care of yourself anymore.
"Fine! And for your information, I have rescued YOU and hid your reckless deads a lot more than you have ever helped me! Don't EVER IN YOUR FUCKING LIFE THINK THAT I'M WITH YOU BECAUSE I NEED YOUR FUCKING PROTECTION!" You yelled the last part and left his house and headed to yours. You have never raised your voice on anyone. You even threaten people with a very silent tone. He stood there watching you leave because he knew what you said was right and how he said his part was most definitely not the nicest thing.
He knew something was going on inside your head that you are not explaining. He asked your friend about what time you guys will be leaving and hung up before she can ask any further questions. He was not letting you go like this. He loved you way too much to even think about letting you go so he decided to go to the ball too.
You got ready, obviously after a whole heavy crying session only because you shouted at him. You hated when anyone else foul-mouthed about him but this time it was you who screamed in his face. But still, the thought of him not putting in any efforts didn't leave your mind so you decided to go anyways.
As you were passing the hallways to the ball, you crossed Levi's room and just from a side-eye saw what he was doing and his face was buried in the papers. A piece of your heart literally broke knowing that he had gone back to his schedule without even bothering to talk to you.
As you moved forward to the ball you noticed him on first, second, and at many other turns following you. Your friend noticed him too and nudged you to go talk to him. As if you just needed a small push you turned and started walking towards him. He was about to say something but you hugged him. Tight.
He did the same to you too! You both knew that you two regretted what you two said. As you broke the hug he didn't let you go fully, still having one hand on the small of your back and not letting your torso leave. He noticed your red eyes and said, "I'm so sorry baby. I know something is bothering you for the past few weeks. Rather than talking about it, I lashed out on you." While placing his palms on your cheek to which you leaned your head on.
You just smiled at seeing his face again. For a second you thought it was over. "Also I cannot let that new brat put his hands on you, considering how beautiful my baby looks in this dress. Wait... is this-" before he could finish the sentence you nodded yes. He bought you a dress a while ago, that he saw in a shop while buying groceries, all because he thought that "it was made for you". His words, not mine!
You two went to the ball together had a lot of fun mocking the military officials among yourselves and once you were back home and in bed, he asked what exactly was bothering you. You wanted to give the, "Oh no it's fine" but you thought now is the perfect time to let it out. He heard you with full attention and wiped your tear as you cried a few times while explaining everything.
When you two finally lay down to sleep he whispered, "I know you're not weak." and hugged you tighter.
_______________________
Thanks For Reading!
If you liked it you can check out the masterlist too!
Asks are still open if you want to submit any ;)
#snk levi#levitan#levi x reader#levi headcanons#captain levi#obey me leviathan#shingeki no kyojin#levi attack on titan#levi x you#snk#aot#attack on titan#levi ackerman#daddy ackerman#anime#levi#ackerman supremacy#ackerman clan#aot imagines#aot anime#levi aot#aot icons#aotedit#aot headcanons
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Scottrospective: Scott Pilgrim Gets It Together! or Days of Summer
Hello all you happy scottaholics! Welcome back to those of you who’ve read the rest of this retrospective and welcome to those of you just joining us. This is the Scottrospective, my look at all 6 volumes of Scott Pilgrim, the game and the movie. It’s all the video game refrenes, slice of life story telling and boob punches you can handle!
It’s been three months since I left off with “The Infinite Sadness” , and while I intended to cover this one for Valentine’s Day, my schedule got away from me and with March being full up, this ended taking till April
I”m not too put off by it though as the hiatus between these two reviews is fitting for this one both in story and out. In story there’s a couple month time skip between books, while out.. this book got delayed a few times.
This is notable to me at least because this was the first volume of the series I bought when it came out. As i’ve brought up before I came into the series via the Free Comic Book Day Issue and the second and third volumes, picking one up later. I still have my original copies despite no longer really needing them thanks to having the color editions in general. Always will provided something dosne’t happen to them. So this was my first instalment that I got to read fresh and got to wait for and be hyped about and i’d saved enough money that I was able to pre-order it. So the experince of waiting and waiting for the book only to keep seeing it slide back is vivid in my mind as is the frustration I felt having the one thing I COULD NOT WAIT FOR, keep going further and further back.
So with this long wait and the fact I bought this one when it came out, as I would for the next two which didn’t get delayed thank god, this volume naturally means a lot for me. When I wrote Scott Pilgrim fanfiction, this volume’s status quo is what I based it on. It was the coolest to me and the one I loved to reread the most. It has the most contained story, the most character growth at the time, and the best art due to Bryan’s style having finally hit it’s stride. Not that the art for volumes 1-3 is bad mind you, but it’s very clear his style was changing and shaping into what it is now with each one and while it’d change a bit more, this volume is where the style and quality everyone thinks of when they think of this series and the kind you see on various art done from it comes from.
So as you can tell i’m excited for this one. Before we get started there WERE two shorter comics released between this one both for Free Comic Book day, the first of which, Free Scott Pilgrim, is the reason I got into the series and the second, the Wonderful World of Kim Pine .. was both delightful and sets up Kim moving in with Hollie for this volume. Originally I intended to cover these in this review.. but I realized they wouldn’t of helped the pacing and this review is going to be way longer than my standard as is.
So instead I came up with the compromise. I did review them.. but as bonus reviews on my patreon. For just one buck a month you can read them and help me reach my stretch goals which now include reviews of Lost at Sea, Seconds and SnotGirl, aka Bryan’s OTHER comics. You can find my patreon THROUGH THIS LINK HERE if your intrested in the exclusives or helping me reach my reviews. I also intend to do an exclusive of Monica Beetle, a short comic Bryan did starring Scott’s dad in the 70s at some point so keep your eyes peeled for that, as well as the three strips he did of Style, the comic that gave us the prototypes for Lisa and Kim.
I will talk about their connections and setups for this volume briefly: FSP sets up the next ex as a ninja, with Roxy having a bunch of posters come to live and pummel our boy, while Wonderful World has Hollie tell Kim she can move in with her. It’s not much, hence why i made these exclusives but they are good stories, so check them out. And with that JOIN ME UNDER THE CUT, as we enter Scott’s world once more as he grapples with the past, employment, and saying the L-Word... which might be Lesbians. I don’t know. Find out bellow!
So we open Two Months after Volume 3 with a beach birthday party! Complete with Kim in a swim suit!
But it’s for Julie who lobs a volley ball at Scott’s head when he and Ramona try to make out.
I also dont’ know if “Manfiesting out of all the world’s collectives sorrows” counts as a “birth” necessarily but whatever. I love a good beach story. It’s just a fun setitng for swimming, romance and battling a giant crab with the help of the bird what lives in your backpack.
So after the beach our heroes get dinner and Ramona sweetly calls Scott the nicest guy she’s ever dated. He responds with “That’s sad”. Blunt, but entirely accruate. Julie calls it pathetic and tries to counter Ramona RIGHTFULLY saying “who the hell asked you?” something that really should come after EVERYTHING Julie said with “Back off bitch i’ts my birthday”
So later that night Sex Bomb-Omb has a beach sing along, and I can’t help but notice Neil’s hairy legs.
I mean yes it does make since for a 19 year old to have leg hair, but of all the characters besides Stephen, the ONLY other character we’ve seen it with to give it to, why the character you specifically single out as “Young” it’s just a weird choice I never noticed before.
But anyways Julie has to whine about it because she’s Julie, she can’t stand other people being happy and complains the song...
One of my faviorite moments of the series. Knives puts a nicer spin on it, she’s here too and not over with Neil because, as we’ll find out later they broke up, but she just asks if Knives should be drinking. She shouldn’t but for fucks sake lady she was just trying to talk. I also do like that despite Julie trying to control Ramona’s love life, you know the thing the VILLIANS are doing, Ramona cannot stand her now.. and honestly probably never did.
But Julie, SOMEHOW turns out to be right for once as Kim and Knives have disappeared later that night, and Scott elects to go look for them. Also Ramona says she wants to marry kim while drunk after Julie asks if she does. The throuple is strong with these three... serioulsy that’s my one true pairing for all three now. I mean it ballances out their collective flaws, it’s cute and Ramona is just as into her boyfriends ex as she is her actual boyfriend even when she’s not hamered. Why the fuck not?
Scott instead finds the two making out. I will confess I shipped these two when I was younger.. but I don’t. Not because their gay or anything or because I found another ship for them but because the age gap is still just as wide as it was for Scott. The game did not get this memo and made them a couple which is... ehhhhhhhhh. I mean I wouldn’t mind either being bi, but it just brings up the same problems even if their both hammered. I also question why this scene exists. No really outside of one face punchingly dickish comment from Scott later, this never comes up again and it doesn’t effect Kim’s or Knives character any. Why have this? it’s clearly not fanservice, it’s just a thing that happened. And while Scott Pilgrim as a series does have some of those, as does life and that’s fine.. this is a bit too major, i.e. Kim and Knives, two of the main cast, making out, drunkenly or not, to just.. gloss over you know? I feel Kim would feel majorly guilty for this, as she has the most active moral compass of the main group, and Knives would be massively confused but it’s just.. forgotten because I dunno. In a story that’s otherwise pretty stellar this stands out as an utter waste of potential. I’m not saying have them hook up, gay or not it’s still not better than what Scott did, but have them at least talk about it and have both grow or something from it. Sheesh.
So we cut to.. another day. Maybe the next day I dunno but it’s August. Point is Scott and Wallace are grocery shopping and Wallace notes they can’t get fancy mayo as their barely in budget. I would’ve glossed over this scene... but @panur
pointed out back around the Infinite Sadness review that this scene reveals something very intrestng: Scott.. is kind of a fincial burdern to Wallace. Before this while Scott mooched off him it wasn’t all that clear that Wallace was struggling.
But here we notice that outside of some Havarti, it’s just the simplest stuff imaginable: turkey, bread, boxed mac and cheese ramen noodles... it’s nto BAD stuff, I have all of that in my house and it’s good stuff... but it’s not the kind of thing that you need to carefully budget for. Now granted part of this probably is Wallace as he likely spends a LOT on drinks, condoms and two 2 liters of diet soda a day.. but while he really needs to adress his alcohol issues, the rest is fair. He should be allowed to have as much sex and diet coke as he wants it’s his money. Same with the havarti. He earned it if he wants some really delcious cheese with herbs, seriously Havarati is the best, then that’s his bidness. But the rest of the time he’s barely managing to get a basketfull of cheap food.. because he has to provide for Scott. It’s clearly something Scott dosen’t get and something I can relate to not getting. It took me a while to get how hard it is to budget for a full family, let alone two people on one income like Wallace has to. But Wallace is working on a nice job... but still a call center or something. He can’t pay for everything and the finccial stress is about to give as their landlord wants to meet with them. And as we’re about to learn things were even worse than we thought.
Our heroes head home where we get a truly iconic conversation when, over margeritas (again proving my point that while Scott certainly isn’t HELPIGN wallace’s finacials, it’s not all on him)
This will be imporant later.. both the Lesbians part and Scott’s struggle saying it. he tried earlier on the beach but couldn’t get it out and Ramona clearly didn’t want to hear it as she kapt sshhhhing him.. playfully of course but still.
So some time later it’s moving day! Kim is moving into Hollie and Josephs, and Scott, Stephen and Jason are helping. You might be wondeirng who the hell Jason is. He’s Kim’s boyfriend. I do not likes him. Not because he’s kim’s boyfriend, getting upset because a fictional character you fancy is dating is just patently stupid. I’ts like getting upset a celebrity crush is in a relationship: you had no chance anyway why. I wasn’t even bothered as a kid. I don’t really like him.. because he has no real personaliy and no real baring on the plot and I struggle to think why Bryan included him other than for a really annoying plot twist next time, which does not help my liking him knowing what’s coming.
But while our heroes help our heroine move in, and Scott is suprised Hollie is there despite Kim having told him a minute ago she was moving in with her, something I can relate to sadly, we get something vitally plot important; Stephen passes Joseph’s room.. and notices he has a small recording setup in his room. Stephen quickly begs him to record the band’s album and Joseph agrees if only because he finds Stephen hot. Eh i’ve seen better relationships start on less, fair enough. And yes I said relationship more on that in a bit.
So after a brief scene of Scott and Ramona having lunch where Scott fails to know her age and when Ramona says he could just ask.. hea sks and she dosen’t tell, not a bad scene character wise just not very plot important and probably should’ve bene swapped in order with the previous scene, we get to the next day. There’s a heat wave so Wallace orders Scott to go to the mall maybe find a job. He emphasises that.
Instead Scott just sorta bums around thirst but nto having any money.. until an old face shows up.
For those who forgot like Scott has, it’s Lisa Miller from the Volume 2 flashback, the girl who had a crush on Scott and was close friends with him and Kim. After a tackle hug and some panic Scott eventually remembers.... if in a curiously unique and self serving way
At the time this was just hilarous. Now it’s very clear foreshadowing for the big twist in Volume 6. The two catch up while Scott is very clearly attracted to her but very clearly dosen’t want to be, with Lisa wondering where kim is, finding about Ramona, etc, before offering Scott lunch as the two catch up and Scott is very conflicted about how he feels. It’s nice visual stuff as he’s blushing, something more clear in the color version and trying to desperatley sort things out. As for why Lisa’s here she’s moving to the states soon, but is staying with her sister for now.
So after an incdental scene with Wallace we catch up with Knives, who has broken up with Neil. And after some talk about Clash at the Demonhead, Tamra notes Knives apparently put a big x on her shrine of Scott... which baffles Knifves as she sure as hell didn’t do it and is still, sadly, obessed with Scott as ever. Granted Tamra isn’t at all helpful here claiming she did it even when she says she didn’t, is clearly confused and while yes we don’t know who else would care Tams, that just makes it all the more creepy. Stop gaslighting your bestie, she’s already got enoguh issues. She dosen’t need thinking she might have a split personality on top of the stalking, obession over a guy who has no intrest in loving her back, and attempted stabbings. Knives dosesn’t get a ton of focus in this one sadly. She kind of takes a back seat, and while sh’es not GONE from the volumle and someone close to her does impact it, she dosen’t really have any personal progression, negative or positive, like she does in every other volume, a shame since her personal jouney is one of the most intresting of the main cast.
Anyways that night Scott hangs out with Lisa, having not gotten around to telling Ramona she exists yet and plays a game of find the Kim Pine. She goes to Neil’ and Stephen’s place for practice, but finds no one there and Neil being a dick... get used to that it’s going to get about 80 times worse soon enough. Though we do get this classic panel i’ve gotten some use out of
He goes to Kim’s place, but she , Hollie and Satan’s Misterss have all left to Sneaky Dee’s, the local mexican place, for something to eat and Stephen is either high or doing.. something with Joseph.
Yeah i’m not hiding that Stephen turns out to be gay in the final volume or cheating on Bitch and a Half with Joseph. And even if I hate Julie with the power of a frozen sun, I still dont’ think cheating on her is kosher. He could’ve just broken up with her and while part of it was likely confusion, and he could also be bi and not decided which one he wanted to be with, it’s still a dick move.. and later makes him a hypocrite but that’s a rant for next volume.
So our heroes FINALLY find Kim, along with Hollie and Mouthface. And a nice thing I like is that Kim and Lisa are just.. increidbly close, happily catching up and making plans to hang before Lisa leaves, that despite Lisa having feelings for Scott the two ended up as close and She and Scott did and i’ts sweet to see. it’s also just.. rare to see Kim GENUINELY happy. I mean look at her
It’s not like she HASN’T smiled across the series but normally she’s just so miserable, likely because her best friends are a grumbly asshole who forces them to hang out with a raging typhoon of bitchiness, and an insenitive asshat who she never got closure with. This is the first decent human being whose not Ramona or Hollie, and that last one’s not going to last, in a while. It’s genuinely sweet to just see her.. enjoy the moment for once, honestly engaged with someone. Ramona shows up and finally meets Lisa, who apparently was on Degrassi.. I mean she says candaian show no one ever watched, and I watched that plenty but i’d like to think she was on there for a season or two. I liked Degrassi.. I honeslty miss it and think it could use some form of revivial and think porting it to netflix was a smart decision.. what wasn’t so smart was not having the other seasons leading into it on there. Need to watch more of it.
So the next day Ramona stumbles into Scott’s dreams and both are annoyed, with Ramona suggesting he get a job. This finally gets him to try. He asks about Wallace’s work but understandably, he dosen’t really want scott there and asks if he even knows. So Scott sets out to ask his other friends for jobs, while Knives shows up saying she’s “totally not stalking him” but someone is following HER, a mysterious spiky haired dude in a black leather jacket, shades and with a sword on his back. Whu-oh.
He tries Second Cup, with Julie annoyed that Stephen’s recording.. it’s hard to tell if she’s annoyed because she’s a bitch or because Stephen is both gneuinely annoying right now and clearly screwing around behind her back. My take?
But Scott realizes maybe getting a job at his Sister’s place of work who also works with his arch enemy might be stupid and backs out. He next tries Kim’s, but backs out of that too, admitting to kim it’d be stupid and Kim lists off all the reasons (His lack of resume, the fact them working together would be stresful and his ountain of late fees) why that’d be stupid, but in a jovial way. For once i’ts clear that while she’s still taking the piss out of them she isn’t mad at Scott.
In fact she genuinely helps him get a job, taking him to Stephen’s work since hers is dead right now anyway, a vegan place. While Scott naturally compares things to a job system as he’d start as dishwasher while Stephen taught him prep, Scott agrees to genuinely take this seriously and Stephen’s boss decides “eh why not” when he asks her to employ him. Scott is gainfully employed baby! God I miss that. Seriously i’m not pimping my patreon for shits and giggles.
But as he celebrates and Kim wishes she could punch his life in the face, they run into some trouble on the way home: Katana man who slices a motherfucking bus in half and chases them, with Scott reluctnat to fight because he has a sword and Scott does not, which is valid. He does escape though using subspace. He and Kim part awkardly and he returns home to Wallace throwing a party with two intresting charcters, a woman and a man of color, one of the few in the entire work, who are never seen again.
The next night is practice.. or rather recording, and we start to see Neil get edged out, with him unable to come due to exams and clearly not happy about it, and Stephen just kind of ignoring anything he cares about like the dickhead he is. It dosen’t get any better as “recording” ends up just being Scott, Ramona, and Ratfaced Knacker watching bored with Joseph and Stephen work. Eventaully Scott and Ramona decide to get out of there as things are getting tensed between thing one and thing bitch, and leave.. and take Julie with them for some reason.
So the three have dinner with Lisa, Kim, and Jason before The Mummies Curse thankfully leaves. Jason thought they were friends.
We also get this exchange.
I mean.. she is the better option. She his THE option. But before we can get the obvious answer of
Stephen comes in with Knives. He smuggled her in. This leads to problems when Scott returns from the bathroom to find Queen Bitch throwing a bitch fit about him having brought her and screechs at her when she dares to talk to him “How do you even know my name?” Well Ted Cruz, you see when someone is an actually thoughtful and likes other people, they keep track of things about them and don’t constnatly tear them down or assume their partneer is automatically bonking a 17 year old instead of you know, actually forming something of a friendship and not shutting her out sensing she needs this friend group. Some people are not vacous piles of vitriol who care about nothing but themself and seem to go off at the slightest thing.
Scott takes Ramona home but finds a drunken barely awake wallace so no sexy times. Not that he could anyway as the next day is the meeting with Peter their landlord.
Peter reveals they’ll have to clear out by the 27th as their lease was for one year and their paid up.. as in only the first and last month. The two part melacholy knowing this sucks and isn’t a great situation. Then it’s time for Scott to work work, angelica, work work, eliza and peggy. After grueling day, can relate, he runs into a wisp on teh wend and steels himself for a fight.. okay he bitches about it being too hot but it’s Scott. so it’s expected. He does get a hit in on his mysterious persuer.. and that’s when we meet Roxy.
Via boob punch, something Scott’s not proud of but in his defense, as Roxy keeps complaning about it, he was blindly struggling for a hit and din’t know the next Ex, or any of them, were female.. not that Ramona didn’t suggest it loudly enough by empahsising “exes” but scott’s a bit of a fuckwit. She mentions “everyone allways remmebers you”.. which is kind of ominus and tells me she tried to hook back up with ramona despite her having a boyfriend and she rejected her. Still on good terms though. But this confusing encounter ends with Roxy vowing she’ll get him next time gadget, next time.
So we get some assorted slice of life scenes with the band, lisa and what have you as Scott tries to get in touch with Ramona but she keeps avoiding him. THat’s not worrysome at all. And Lisa brings up high school while drunk and clearly hits on Scott. He sidesteps it with her drunkness.. but this clearly isn’t over or going to stop being a problem.
Speaking of problems Wallace makes Scott confront the truth: He either needs to find a new place to live or commit to staying, though Wallace is trying to nudge him toward asking Ramona to move into her place. Scott starts thinking it over, it being very hard especially since, as Stephen points out this was his very first place of his own.. but Stephen also points out these things are temoporary.. right before Scott ducks from katana guy.
At work Scott wonders who it could be, though it turns out Stephen’s met him before, as he’s brought his family in here. So he’s PROBABLY not one of the exes.. but it leaves the question why he wants to cut Scott in half like Dewey Cox’s brother. But it turns out he’s nto the only enemy Scott’s casually running into as Roxy is there too.. with Ramona.
The two talk, clearly about Scott and Lisa with Roxy trying to convince her he’s cheating and Ramona rightfully trusting Scott: while he IS attracted to her, he’s been fighting it every step of the way. Scott storms over to find out what’s going on and while Ramona is more distracted by his new job, she eventually realizes Roxy did attack him and he simply dscribed her poorly when he mentioned the incident over the phone. Scott is confused as he dosen’t get it. Is she with one of the exes what? After some hiinting from both parties, and Roxy rightfully mocking him for not getting the obvious... he finallyg ets it in the grandest way possible.
So Roxy gets ready to fight and Scott can’t because sword, and gets fired in the background as he hides in Ramona’s bag and Ramona prepares to step in. Roxy screams at her for trusting him and defending him when Ramona.. just dosen’t her boyfriend to be bisected by her ex. A fight insues and a damn cool one at that. I honestly wish the movie had taken more from this, but simply didn’t have time leading it to instead be more like the envy fight with a bit of the Winfried Hailey fight from Free Scott Pilgrim.
Roxy chases her and Ramona rightly points out Scott can’t run forever but takes him into Subspace.. where Roxy heads them off, having “taught you everything you know bitch” leading to a cool fight in the wintery version of subspace. Again why THIS wasn’t used instead I have no real idea. We also find out she’s a half ninja but she eventually leaves afer Ramona presses that button.. but Rammy is actually apologetic about it and Roxy’s “I hope you and your 24 children are happy together comment” is telling.
Upon this readthrough of the volume.. I realized Roxy is the most layered and intresting of the exes next to Gideon himself. None of them are out and out terrible, but most of them have pretty simple motives: to kill Scott, ???, profit. Or in Todd’s case to kill scott, bang around and be a dick. But Roxy.. genuinely wants Ramona back. She’s the ONLY one who does: Gideon kinda does, but only in the sense that he wants her for his collection. But Roxy geninely still loves her, admitting so during this fight. And it’s not like she has no chance: out of the 7 exes she’s the ONLY one who parted with Ramona on anything resembling good terms. While intrestingly we don’t find out WHY they broke up, Ramona didn’t cheat on her like she did everyone else she was with. The two have coffee and hang out and Ramona geninely dosen’t even consider until Roxy tries to attack Scott that she’d really try killing him and tries her best to talk her out of it. But what holds Roxy back is her anger: She’s so bitter about the fact Ramona is bi or pan, so dedicated to viewing Ramona’s very orintation as a betryal (though Ramona calling it a phase dosen’t help and the movie RIGHTLY has Roxie comment on it and fly into a rage over it), and so driven to make sure the woman she loves dosen’t get hurt again that it blinds her to the fact Ramona dosen’t love her the same way anymore, and that while Scott is objectively a dick, and a cheater, and a greasy buttcrack pooflap, he is not a terrible person. A meh one sure, but he’s got good to him. She’s so biophobic she simply can’t see he’s a harmless moron.. well harmless to Ramona even with the cheating. He’s killed two people at this point and will kill again. Also she apparently has issues with only being a half ninja but this is never adressed. Point is Roxy’s really grown on me and is now probably my faviorite ex.
Scott and Ramona talk it over on their way to Sneaky Dees and Scott finally asks to move in and gets a yes. His response is downright adorable.
So at Sneaky Dee’s Young Neil is just a bit absolutely irate with Scott.. which isn’t fair as them not playing things is entirely on the blocky face asshole. Yell at him.. which he does, pointing out that they haven’t played shows in forever, and that the lady who owns Sneaky Dees not only runs shows, in the upstairs space, but has been asking them to play. Kim is rightly curious about this and to both Stephen just keeps saying “We’re recording right now.” And some of you may of wondered why I hate him. Well while he’s not exctly stellar in the first half in the second Stephen becomes goddman insufferable, slowly destroying the band for his affair and not giving one iota of a shit what anyone else wants. He’s a selfish, egomanical cheating prick. And yes I get it their recording an album.. but doing live shows would give them extra practice, MONEY, even if likely not a lot and exposure for said album. I get professoinal bands stop touring for a bit to do an album but you are not a professional band, and said bands still often iron out the album on the road. God you suck.
But while Scott sidesteps this argument he walks into another where Ramona confronts him about lisa about liking her.. and he rightly says if there was anything, which there was not it’s in the past. And while yes he is a cheater, she does not know this yet. This plot honestly would’ve worked better if she learned about the knives thing sooner, but instead she just comes off as paranoid for listening to Roxy about something that isn’t happening. Yes Scott’s been shown to be attracted to her.. but he’s been ashamed of it, fighting it and in denial about it, and is clealry all in with Ramona. Being attracted to someone else on a phsyical level does NOT mean your relationship is doomed.
Things get worse as he goes home to ruminate.. and instead sees a man’s Penis. And Wallace..is at his second most unsymapthetic, not letting Scott get a shirt or a bus pass or something like a decent human being for no goddamn reason. Usually when Wallace is a dick to Scott, Scott’s earned it and badly needs a slap in the face. Here he’s just being a prick because.. the plot needs him to? I dunno it dosen’t work for me. It’s in character, I just don’t have to like it.
So with no other options.. Scott ends up at Lisa’s. And so we get the last temptation of Scott. Lisa admits, embarassed that she’s been wearing sexy dresses and what not specifically to attract him, with Scott also mentioning how things are rough, Lisa tries to fight it herself pointing out he’s with ramona.. and when Scott points out they didn’t do anything in the past Lisa points out they should’ve.. and maybe they should now.
We fade to black as Scott ends up in a dream and finds Roxy, who naturally has the same skill and tries to Freddy Kruger him before he wakes. He finds Lisa but they didn’t do anything: Scott pushed her away and babbled about how much he loved Ramona instead. As i’ve said.... his heart was never with LIsa... and even when he was so close to giving in he couldn’t. It’s a tangible sign of growth: He screwed around on Knives with Ramona, and given how bad things were getting with Ramona, it would be oh so easy to once again ditch a relationship the minute he found something else and oh so understandable. But... he dosen’t. He loves Ramona even if he hasn’t said it, he wants to make this work, and he’s changed. She’s changed him. He’s not quite a good man yet.. bu he’s getting to be good enough. Love turned him from a skeezy dumbass into a far more loveable dumbass. Ramona’s gotten him to stop dating a teenager (even if again he cheated), face his past with envy to finally move on and now get a job. He’s realized just hwo much she means to his life and world and so he goes to tell her.
Riggghtttt after going to get his job back and works a shift, with steven wanting to punch his life in the balls. Stephen shut the fuck up. Just because Scott is lucky and your stuck dating satan’s scrotum does not mean you get to punch his life int he balls. Kim does, because he’s put her through more shit but not you.
He goes to second cup to talk to Stacey.. only to end up at the wrong one where Knives also now has a job... and we finally get an answer to who the mystery katana guy is...
Yup turns out wielding giant weapons in vengance runs in the family. As for how he knows about Scott her aunt mentioned her boyfriend, everyone freaked out and obviously while her mom was mentioned as knowing in volume 1, they did not tell her dad whose brain turned into an engine of vengance and defaced the shrine. While part of it is apparnetly racisim for Scott being white the fact is he clearly saw Scott’s photograph. The guy is 5 years older. I get him being protective. Still dosen’t justify cutting off his head. His balls maybe but not his head.
And then Scott ran, once agian finding a subspace entracne.. and this time we see inside ramona’s head and well...
Yeah.. that’s.. kind of fucked, and Ramona isn’t happy scott saw that, though she backs down once Scott explains..a nd then gets upset over him staying at Lisa’s but before SCott can tell her he loves her it turns out Roxy stayed over. So yeah, Ramona might of cheated, she tells him to alk it off and he runs around in a psycadelic haze of emtoinal confusion. And meets.. someone new...
Scott snaps out of his funk and ignores his doppleganger heading back for Ramona... whose fighting Mr. Chau. Scott left the door to Ramona’s head open and he followed him through Subspace. Scott lures him into the house and away from her only to run into Roxy. This leads to both of his attackers fighting and her wondering if Gideons ent him “Why does no one ever belivie in me?!”
She soon realize no i’ts just unrelated and calls Scotto ut on hiding behind not having a sword and behind her being a woman, caling it a flimsy excuse. I mean she’s tring to kil lhim. It’s okay to hit an enemy combatant. Scott realizes he has to stop running... and get real with ramona leading to a truly epic, romantic and heartfelt speech and given how far he’s come and just how heartfelt it is it’s a real sign of how deep he feels. Sure we’ve seen genuine chemstiry between the two.. but htis moment is a shit.. from a simple relationship.. into true love.
I may of only had a few but Relationships are not easy, They take work, they take time, they take patience and theyt ake love.. but if your willing to work with someone, look past some flaws and help them with the rest.. then it’s worth it. And Scott has finally realized it and for the first time in a while is running TOWARDS something difficult, actually working on this relationship and talking with his partner instead of running finding someone else or wallowing. He’s truly grown up. While he still has miles to go.. he’s taken about 50 steps forward with this. And as such given the kind of unvierse we’re in, as Ramona is genuinely touched by it he levels up a glowing sword with a heart shaped hilt coming out of his chest.. and realizing what’s happening he pulls it out....
So Scott faces off with roxy and in an awesomly short battle, their sords clash.. and he bisects her.
Scott then honestly talks down Mr Chau who leaves after a nod, and Ramona tells Scott she loves him two. The two make out and all is well.
One make out fades into another, as we cut to Scott moving in with Kim and Blockhead’s help. Well kinda they only had one box but they owed him one. He and wallace comiserate over the end of their time as roomies. They’ll always be friend but it’s truly the end of an era. Also Wallace gets off another bit of dickery as he’’s very glad it all worked out for scott...
Now there’s the Wallace I know and love. Dickish but just the right loveable kind of douchebag with that swagger.
Back at Knives house she’s apparenlty into somebody though who I have no idea, Mr Chau give sher his blessing and she.. apparenlty doesen’t know chinese. I dunno. As I said her subplot this go round was her weakest overall.
And so we end with the whole gang gathered to see Lisa off. It’s a REALLY nice shot, and one of the only times Wallace is seen with the Sex Bomb omb side of the group. Oh sure he goes to their shows and what not, but generally their never in the same vincinity so while there’s no interaction I still find this neat. Seriously the whole main cast is there, it’s a really lovely shot
Also Jason and Hollie.. who are getting awfully chummy. Whu Oh. And of course Craphole and Mouth Face are as likeable as ever.
So we jsut get a genuinely nice sene. Except Stephen and Julie reconciling. Fuck that. Please move on. And as everyone fondly wishes Lisa adeu and wish she stuck arond the res tof the series we end on Scott and Ramona snuggling, Scott asking her her birthday and finding out she’s 24, and they both will be come september. Scott wishes this moment could last.
They probperly snuggle as the volume ends on a high.
Final Thoughts:
Yeah.. Gets it Together is, on rexamination, DEFINTELY my faviorite of the 6. Besides personal value i’ts hte best contained story, contaning lots of character development, great character moments, jokes, and EASILY the best art so far, with goregouness and creativty abounding.
There is a problem here or there: Stephen and Julie’s subplot feels underbaked, and not just because I hates them, and there are several scenes that don’t further plot or character stuff. Ther’es also stuff that could’ve been expanded on.. but given this is still a pretty meaty graphic novel, it’s understandable why it wasn’t.. though it is why I’d love a streaming series since while the movie is excellent, a full series could expand on stuff from the books more Brian simply didn’t have time for. Knives also didn’t get a lot to do.
But their drowned out by tons of great decisions: Lisa was a wonderful additoin to the cast and I genuinely wish she’d stuck around, adding in some energy, blending well with the Sex Bomb Omb crowd, and having great dynamics with everyone and her arc with Scott is heartbreaking,knowing she can’t have him but wanting him anyway having never gottne proper closure on the man she’s always wanted. She’s a heartbreaking character and its nice to see her end in a decent place and on good terms with Scott, having let him go for both thier sakes.
And while Lisa is a highlight everyone is on their a game here for the most part apart from knives, girl hitler, and captain dumbass: Scott grows signfigantly but is funny as hell, Wallace has an intresting arc trying to nudge Scott out without being overt about it, scared to really confront him, Kim is in a happy and serene place for once and it shows. The villians are also intresting: While Mr Chau is a tad underbaked, he’s sitll a cool imposing presence. I do think he shoudl’ve had more to do with the plot.. but is still just so freaking cool it papers over that and him just.. disappearing after this like poor Lisa.
Roxy is far more intresting, having clearly more going on than we see and while I wish we’d got her backstory, she’s easily the most engaging of the exes, being the only one to actively compete with Scott (All her and ramona end up doing is making out a little it turned out), and have bigger stakes than just “The glasses wearing douche asked me to beat up my exes boyfriend and I was like alright.
All in all Gets it Together is really magical, the series high point, and just damn fun and it was a pleasure to go through
Next Month on Scott Pilgrim: It all falls down as we take a look into what once was my least faviorite Album, vs the unvierse. Two perfect assholes try and murder scott with Robutts, his relationship and band crumble and things get sad so very very sad.
Next on this blog: More LIlo and Stitch! The Proud Family come to Kauai and get into a fight with our heroes. Also wizard kelly... who if nothing else is now far more tolerable now i’ve had to spend another volume with the wicked bitch of the west. Touche universe touche. See you at the next rainbow.
#scott pilgrim#ramona flowers#wallace wells#roxanne richter#knives chau#stephen stills#julie power#mr chau#stacey pilgrim#neil nordgraf#young neil#comics#oni press#scotrospective#lisa miller#kim pine#jospeh
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meeting the team
you’re just meeting the team, you thought to yourself. it’s not like you’re meeting jj’s family or anything.
except that was the thing. the bau was practically jj’s family.
wc: 994
pairing: jj x gn!reader
warnings:
gif credit: google
a/n: i’m possibly thinking of making a jj x gn!reader series, starting with this one. let me know your thoughts!
you paced the length of the bedroom you shared with jj, looking at yourself in the mirror. this wasn’t too much for an outfit, right? you had pulled on your nicest pair of jeans, a blazer (which might have been jj’s? you weren’t sure whose shirt was who’s anymore) and tied your hair out of your face. a pair of white vans sat next to the front door downstairs, ready for you to pull them on when you were about to leave.
but you weren’t sure if you were ready. this was probably going to be one of the craziest moments of your life. jj had always talked so highly of her team, and it felt like an honor that she was bringing you to meet them today. but why were you so nervous?
thoughts of everything that could go wrong flew through your mind, and it took everything in your power to not just put your jammies back on and hide until jj got home. you had promised her you would be ready by the time they got back from minnesota, since they were all going to rossi’s house for a team dinner that night. the significant others were all invited too, since it had been a while since they had a full extended-bau family dinner.
you’re just meeting the team, you thought to yourself. it’s not like you’re meeting jj’s family or anything.
except that was the thing. the bau was practically jj’s family.
“hey, i’m home!”
jj’s voice flew through the house, the pitter patter of the boy’s feet following shortly after as they ran downstairs to see their mom. you took a deep breath before you walked out, a pair of no-show socks in your hand.
“mama mama i put on my nicest polo.” henry smiled widely, proud of himself. “do i look okay?”
“you look so handsome. both of you do.”
“y/n looks really nice too.” michael started. “we helped them pick out their outfit.”
“you did?”
“ya-huh.”
as if on cue, jj looked up to see you coming down the stairs. “hey.”
“wow.” she looked you up and down, smiling wider than before. “you look absolutely dashing.”
“i wasn’t sure what to wear. i hope this is okay.”
“it’s perfect, darling, don’t worry.” jj placed a kiss on your lips. “and besides, that shirt always looked better on you than it did on me.”
a blush covered your cheeks. “you flatter me too much.”
you all piled into the car, putting the radio to the boy’s favorite station as jj drove to rossi’s house. your nerves seemed to multiply as you got closer, barely registering jj’s hand resting on top of yours as she pulled into the driveway. before you knew it the four of you were at the front door, waiting for someone to open it.
jj grabbed your hand as you went inside, smiling as the boys ran to go find jack and hank. she turned to face you, concern on her face.
“darling, are you okay?”
“just nervous.” you sighed. “i don’t want to make a bad impression.”
“you won’t, i promise.” she placed a kiss to your cheek. “come on, they’re all in the kitchen.”
the two of you walked into the kitchen, you trying to hide slightly behind jj as everyone looked at you.
“everyone, this is my partner, y/n. y/n, this is everyone.”
before you could get a word out, someone bought you into a hug. “ohmigod! i’m so excited to meet you. jj’s told us so much about you.”
“penelope, let y/n breathe.”
the woman, penelope you now figured out, backed away. “oh yes, breathing. that’s a thing. oh! what are your pronouns? jj’s only referred to you either by your name or by partner, so i want to make sure i use the right pronouns for you.”
your heart swelled. “i go by they/them, thank you for asking.”
“overall, six-in-ten americans say they have heard at least a little about people preferring that others use gender-neutral pronouns such as “they” instead of “he” or “she” when referring to them, including 22% who say they have heard a lot about preferences for such pronouns, according to a pew research center survey.”
“you must be reid.” a chuckle fell from your lips. “the boys rave about you.”
“they do?” his face lit up.
“they continuously ask when the next time they’re going to see you is.”
“y/n, do you drink wine?”
“oh, i’m currently not drinking.” you felt jj squeeze your hand as a secret signal to tell you they didn’t know you were trying for another kid. “lent, and all.”
“lucky for you, i also bought sparking cider for the boy genius over here, as well as non-alcoholic rosé for savannah. feel free to take a glass of whatever you like.”
“thank you, sir.”
“please, call me rossi.”
“thank you, rossi.”
the rest of the night went by without a hitch, you falling in perfectly with the group. you got along great with savannah and kristy, the three of you falling into conversation about anything and everything. you could feel jj watching you throughout the night, but knew it was only out of concern. dinner was absolutely fantastic, and you couldn’t believe that jj hadn’t bought home some of rossi’s cooking for you before.
by the end of the night, they boys were practically begging not to leave as you picked henry up, both jj and you making your way towards the door. the one who you found out was hotch stopped you, pulling you to the side before you left.
“y/n, i just want to thank you. you’re good for her. you bring out a side of her none of us had seen until she started dating you. keep her happy, yeah?”
you smiled. “that’s the plan, sir.”
“good. because i don’t know what i’d do with her if you two broke up.”
#jennifer jareau imagine#jennifer jareau x reader#jennifer jareau one shot#gn!reader#criminal minds#criminal minds one shot#criminal minds imagine
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The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 31
A/N: Bubble chapters incoming.....!
July 18th, 2020
Aberdeen Bloom was getting frappucinos with Kasha.
She was happy she and Kasha were on the same page – that they would get tacos for a late dinner and bring them back to their place to eat. Neither were comfortable with dining in restaurants, even though it was allowed. It just wasn’t something they wanted to do just yet. So they’d take the tacos back to their apartment, sit on their balcony, and have a romantic date night with the frappucinos and – if Aberdeen was being honest – a bottle of rosé between them.
Kasha had to run to an ATM, so Aberdeen was left waiting for the tacos herself. It was a Saturday night, so the streets were somewhat busy – not as busy as they would have been during normal times, but busy enough that it made Aberdeen uncomfortable. What was everybody doing out? Where were they going? Who were they meeting up with? Why weren’t they staying at home? It was all very weird to her. Last summer she wouldn’t have even batted an eye; now, she was hyperaware of the people around her, hyperaware of standing six feet away from the other people ordering tacos, either in line or at the restaurant, and was clutching on to the strap of her bag so her hands didn’t fidget with her mask or touch anything else around her. She was getting tested every day at work, and thankfully she was lucky to have them always come back negative. She was being extra cautious. She didn’t want to���
“Aberdeeeeeen? Is that you?!” a voice suddenly called out from down the sidewalk.
Aberdeen looked to her right to see Saylor walking down the sidewalk with a posse of girls equally as glamourous as she was. Aberdeen looked down at her outfit and gulped. Leave it to Saylor to show up when she was waiting for a boatload of food and in clothes she just threw on to appear presentable in public. “Hey Saylor,” Aberdeen half-waved. More than anything, she was surprised to see Saylor in the city – from what she’d seen on Instagram, Saylor had gone back to Lake Forest during quarantine. Kasperi had joined her.
“You’re wearing a mask outside? I thought you didn’t have to here.”
“I was just inside,” Aberdeen pointed with her thumb to the restaurant. Not that she had to justify wearing a mask anywhere. The world was still in the midst of a fucking pandemic. “Just waiting for my food…and my friend.”
“These are my friends – Gina, Amanda, Jen, and Sadie,” she pointed to each girl. Aberdeen gave them all a quick nod. They couldn’t seem less interested in her. “Girls, Aberdeen works for the Leafs with Kasperi.”
Suddenly, all of their eyes shot forward. “Really?” the one identified as Jen asked. “What do you do?”
“I—I’m Brendan Shanahan’s personal assistant,” she revealed reluctantly. She didn’t want to tell these girls anything, let alone her job.
“Kasperi told me you’re going into the bubble next week,” Saylor said before the conversation could go any further.
“I am,” she nodded, hesitating to even confirm the news to Saylor. After their last altercation in Los Angeles, Aberdeen was fine with never seeing her again. She was almost positive Saylor felt the same way, but apparently not.
“He said you’re going to be the only girl in there.”
Saylor was right. Aberdeen would be the only woman in the bubble for the Leafs. She was sure – well, she fucking hoped – that other women from other team staff would be at the hotel too. It would make the experience a lot less fucking awkward, that was for sure. “Yeah, that’s true.”
Saylor’s friend Gina snorted. “We all know what you’ll be used for.”
Aberdeen’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. Now she knew why Saylor didn’t just ignore her and walk by her on the street. She wanted other people to do her dirty work for her. She wanted to re-live what happened in Los Angeles, except this time, it would be five against one.
“Not yet,” Saylor smiled wryly. “Not until she gets her nose job.”
The other girls laughed. Aberdeen narrowed her eyes at Saylor. “I fucking love my big nose, alright?”
“I’m sure you do. That’s very homely of you,” Saylor rolled her eyes. “And I’m warning you now, you better stay away from Kasperi in that bubble.”
Aberdeen snorted out loud. Actually snorted. “Oh my God, is that was this is about?” she asked indignantly. “You’re…Saylor, you’re joking right?”
Saylor didn’t look too pleased that Aberdeen was laughing at her. “Stay away from my boyfriend.”
“I wouldn’t touch your boyfriend with a ten-foot pole. I wouldn’t even touch him wearing a hazmat suit.”
Saylor took a step forward, trying to intimidate her. Aberdeen was laughing too much to care. The whole thing got so ridiculous so quickly that the only thing she could do was laugh. Saylor was completely out to lunch. “It’s so obvious that you’re so jealous of me,” she said.
“Saylor, I don’t even think about you at all.”
“We ready to go? I got our tacos,” Kasha’s voice suddenly interrupted the confrontation. Aberdeen looked behind her to see Kasha holding the bag up slightly, eyeing the situation. Aberdeen wondered how much of the conversation she’d heard. “Who’s this, Aberdeen?”
Aberdeen took a slight step back. “This is Saylor. Kasperi’s girlfriend.”
Kasha nodded once. “Have fun,” she said to the group of girls before linking her free arm around Aberdeen’s. As they took their first step forward, Kasha looked at Aberdeen. “Kasperi? Is that the one that DM’ed me?” she asked. Loudly.
Aberdeen didn’t turn around to see Saylor’s reaction. She didn’t need to. She knew she would have never seen someone turn so red so quickly in her entire life. And as they walked down the street, the wry smile on Kasha’s face grew. “Was that okay?” Kasha asked.
“You’re brilliant,” Aberdeen said. Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do – okay, it definitely wasn’t the nicest thing to do – but God did it feel good. Kappy had never DM’ed Kasha before in her life. Aberdeen wasn’t even sure Kappy knew who Kasha was even though he met her at the Halloween party. “I might get a phone call later, but it was brilliant.”
“If you get a phone call, I’ll let them know that she said you weren’t hot enough without a nose job,” Kasha said.
“So you heard that?”
“That’s when I came in. The guy was calling your name and so I grabbed the food and lingered.”
Aberdeen smiled. “I love you, bitch.”
“Love you too, bitch.”
***
Message from: Kasperi Kapanen
I heard u ran into Saylor tonite?
Yes
Why did Kasha say I slid into her DMs?
Must have had to do with the fact that Saylor told me I wasn’t pretty enough for any of you to fuck in the bubble unless I got a nose job.
***
minskatt
what did saylor say to u tn?
Nothing important because you love my nose and that’s all that matters
can i call u
No
I’m with Kasha
minskatt please
It’s fine Willy
I don’t care
She’s dumb
She thinks I’m jealous of her
And she told me to stay away from Kappy in the bubble
She thinks I want to sleep with him
I mean 🤣
omg
Please don’t worry about it
I’ll see you tomorrow
i love u
I love you too
I want you to cum down my throat tomorrow
Okay?
🥴🥴🥴
***
July 25th, 2020
Aberdeen and William promised each other they would take it slow because they wanted to make the moment last as long as possible.
They were both fully packed. Aberdeen’s suitcase was packed back in her bedroom. A two-month supply of food and cat litter was bought for Minerva so that Kasha wouldn’t have to go get any, just in case the Leafs went all the way (which meant, at the end of August, she’d be getting on a plane to Edmonton, too). She had organized outfits – work and casual. She made sure to bring entertainment. The Louis Vuitton duffel bag they all got her for her birthday definitely came in handy. William had packed some clothes and shoes. Made sure to pack the basic necessities. He’d texted guys on the team to see what they were bringing in so he didn’t forget anything. He wasn’t the best packer.
Now, all that was left was to spend time together before they couldn’t anymore.
William didn’t want to go straight into sex. There was no point. The sex was great but what he wanted, more than anything, was intimacy – to be able to hold Aberdeen and feel her body pressed up against his; to be able to take in her scent as he always did and be calmed by it as he always was; to be able to bury his face in the crook of her neck and graze his lips along her skin there so delicately it made her shiver; to whisper ‘I love you’ over and over again to her while “Quitting You” by the Arkells played on a constantly loop quietly in the background of their time together. This is what he would miss. Florida was different – they were a country away from each other, and it was hard. But to have her working with them, in the same bubble, while everyone was around, on the same floor, and not be able to get her alone, go to her hotel room, even hold her hand? It would be torture.
He laid his head on her chest, hearing and feeling her heart beat as she ran her fingers through his hair. His arms were wrapped tightly around her and buried underneath her – he was sure the circulation would cut off soon but he didn’t care. He closed his eyes, and pictured them holding hands. Openly. Aberdeen was smiling. He pulled her into him and kissed her. They were in the team locker room.
“What are you thinking about?” Aberdeen’s soft voice broke the silence.
“You,” he said simply. “Us.”
“What about us?” she asked.
“Holding your hand,” he said. “Kissing you in the locker room.”
When he shifted his head to look up at her, she was smiling. “Do you hate me because we can’t?”
He shook his head. “I could never hate you, minskatt. You know that.”
“It’ll happen soon. I promise,” she said. “You won’t have to do anymore waiting.”
“Shhhh…” he cooed, moving up and nuzzling his nose against her jawline. “I’m not waiting for anything when you’re here with me, am I?” he asked, placing the lightest of kisses on her jawline.
Aberdeen sighed happily. “When I write my first book, I’m dedicating it to you. It’s gonna say ‘For William, for waiting’,” she said with a slight chuckle.
He chuckled too. “I look forward to it. Your second book can be dedicated to Siena or Cam or your parents.”
“Second book? I’m writing a second book, am I?” she smiled.
“Mhm,” he nodded her. “You’re gonna write a bunch of books, minskatt. And they’re all gonna be amazing, and you’ll be all literary or whatever, and everybody’s gonna buy your books.”
Her heart was growing a thousand sizes. “You think so?”
“I know so. You’re gonna be a famous writer, minskatt. I’ll just be in the background.”
She curled around and shifted her body into his. Their lips came together tenderly as they began kissing each other, Aberdeen slipping her tongue into William’s mouth easily. His hands wandered down her body to cup her ass before he helped her hook her leg over his torso. They lay kissing for a while until their lips were red and swollen and their breathless gasps the only sound they could hear in the room. When William pulled away quickly to take a breath, Aberdeen shifted to lay on her back. “Willy?” she asked, her voice breathless.
“Minskatt?”
“Make love to me, Willy. One last time before the bubble.”
He picked her up and brought her to his bedroom, setting her down on the bed gently before crawling over her body and continuing their kissing. With some trusty hands, William’s hoodie was off, then Aberdeen’s top, then Aberdeen’s pants, then William’s pants. He kissed down her body, but she pulled him back up. “Willy—”
“Minskatt—”
“I just need to feel you inside me, Willy. Please.”
Somewhat reluctantly, he kissed his way back up her body, paying attention to her breasts for a while before he put on a condom and she wrapped her legs around him and he entered her slowly. Everything was so slow and gentle and intimate, and he’d buried his face into the crook of her neck again to kiss the skin there. When he came back up and looked at her, it was very clear to him that there were tears welling in her eyes. His mind immediately went into overdrive and his body seized up. “Aberdeen? Aberdeen why are you crying?”
“I’m not – no – no no no, it’s not you, it’s not you,” she let out quickly, cupping his face in her hands. His entire body had stopped moving as he hovered over here. She felt a few tears escape down the sides of her eyes, powerless to stop them. “It’s just me. It’s me.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I just love you so much,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “You believe in me, Willy.”
“Of course I believe in you. I’ll always believe in you. Where is this coming from?”
“It was Florida. Sixty-one days away from you,” she explained. “Now in the bubble we’re going to be together but we can’t be together, and I want you to know how much I love you. You know that, right?”
“I do,” he nodded.
“Whatever happens in the bubble, I believe in you and I’ll always believe in you like you believe in me,” she said.
William’s heart panged at her statement. He craned his head to continue to kiss her, and she could feel tears – not her own – on her cheeks as well. His slow and steady movements, passionate and thorough and pleasurable all at once, reminded her of that love they just spoke of. They made love with everything they had in them. And when they climaxed, and William collapsed on top of Aberdeen’s body, she held him close to her, unwilling to let him go.
He shifted slightly to move out of her, but she tightened her legs around him. “No,” she pleaded. “Stay. I want to feel you inside me for as long as possible.”
“Are you sure?”
“Please Willy,” she almost begged, although she knew she wouldn’t have to. “Stay. Let’s just stay like this.”
***
July 26th, 2020
Aberdeen’s family had made it to the staff send-off before they went into the bubble. Camden and Siena came along too. Camden made her a card and gave her a crossword puzzles book he’d bought her at Indigo. When Siena hugged her, she said “Make good choices!” jokingly. Their parents would always say it to them before they got out of the car when they were driven to parties or the like.
If Siena only knew.
Once her family left, Aberdeen had the fantastic tasks of preparing the buses and organizing significant others to be far enough away from each other so everyone was still social distancing. Everybody’s significant other was there, save for the single guys like Auston and (to everyone else) William. As she stood off to the side, she couldn’t help but watch.
Bee McTavish was crying. She wasn’t wailing loudly or anything like that, but Aberdeen could see her glistening cheeks from her tears as Morgan couldn’t stop kissing her and she couldn’t stop wiping her eyes. He looked pretty torn up about leaving her, too. She knew all the guys would be. They were excited to play hockey again but they weren’t too sold on the concept of the bubble. Everyone was going to hate being away from their families – Bee and Morgan were no exception. “Call me whenever you want to,” Aberdeen overheard her tell him. “And if a single thing starts to hurt you please don’t play. You need to be healthy, Morgan.”
Frederik Andersen and Aleida Casillas couldn’t stop kissing, either. Aleida was getting emotional, although Aberdeen knew that Aleida didn’t want to show it. Fred’s new wedding ring glistened in the light. Aberdeen could only imagine what it was like to leave your wife on your one-month anniversary.
Jace was giggling at his dad’s kisses. John had spent the last five minutes holding and kissing his baby boy, with Aryne smiling and cuddling them too. Aberdeen could see Aryne’s small bump peeking out through her t-shirt and realized John was going into the bubble while his wife was pregnant and having to take care of a one-year-old. Her heart ached. She saw the smile on John’s face as he cooed at his son and Jace kept repeating “Dada” over and over again and she could feel a rush of emotion flood her face.
When she saw that Jason had his four girls in a giant bear hug, Aberdeen had to hold in a giant sob. He was crouching down at their level, kissing them all multiple times and whispering things to them as Jen looked on, looking like she was on the verge of tears herself. Jason wouldn’t let them go – couldn’t let them go. Aberdeen had to look away so she didn’t start crying right then and there. It was too much for her to think about.
“You okay, Aberdeen?” Auston’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and she whipped her head towards him.
“I’m fine,” she said, trying not to think about the scenes she just saw. “Do you need me to pack your bag in the bus?” she asked.
“I’m not gonna make you pack my bag, Aberdeen,” he said like it was the most absurd thing in the world.
Aberdeen looked at Auston, but could only see right past him. Behind him, she could see Kappy and Saylor saying their goodbyes. Saylor was hugging Kappy but giving Aberdeen a death stare. Aberdeen focused her attention back on Auston. “How much does Saylor hate me?” she asked.
Auston shrugged. “Wouldn’t know. I don’t talk to her anymore. But from what I hear, a lot.”
“Good to know. What have you heard? Because she thinks I want to sleep with Kappy.”
Auston smiled. “Something like that.” Aberdeen rolled her eyes playfully, smiling back at Auston. “For what it’s worth, she thinks everybody wants to sleep with Kappy,” Auston said. “You know, because he’s just so good looking.”
“You ready for the bubble?” Saylor’s voice suddenly surprised them from behind Auston. Because of their conversation, they hadn’t seen her approach. Auston jumped slightly. He noticed that Saylor was staring directly at Aberdeen.
“As ready as we can be, I think,” Aberdeen said.
“Just remember what I told you!” Saylor said in a playful tone. “Stay six feet away from my boyfriend!”
“Just for you, Saylor, I’ll make it ten,” Aberdeen winked. “I’ll put a pole between us if that’d what you prefer.”
***
There were cameras everywhere covering their arrival. Naturally, of course, since they were the Toronto Maple Leafs. Aberdeen only hoped that she wasn’t caught in any of the photos. She’d already had enough of a time with her identity and stalkers showing up outside her apartment. She didn’t need people to be lingering outside of the bubble gates for her as well.
They checked in. Everything was eerie. They could only go up the elevators two at a time with their suitcases after they got their welcome packages and key cards. Aberdeen was situated at the first room to the right side of the elevators. The equipment staff, trainers, doctor, and coaches were in the wing as well. Kyle and Brendan had their rooms opposite each other at the very end of the hallway. The social media person was across from her. A few more of the equipment guys were on “her” side of the hallway. To the left of the elevators were the team rooms. William was the second room in, in the middle between Auston and Mitch. Jason was in the middle of the hallway. She knew these things because – as the executive assistant to perhaps the most important executive there – she got a copy of the room allocations and floorplan.
When she walked into her room, it was set up like any normal, swanky hotel room. There was a queen-sized bed and a big, beautiful window that looked directly out onto the CN Tower. The bathroom was big and immaculate. Things were practically shining. She hauled her suitcase onto the bed before going to the window to push the curtains open. If she was going to have a view of the city, she was going to milk it for all it was worth.
When she walked back to her bed, something on the nightstand caught her eye, and she walked over to it. Once she realized what they were, her breath hitched in her throat. She didn’t know who was responsible for this. But it made her so emotional. There were three frames with pictures in them, each more sentimental than the last. In the first frame, there was a mashup of two pictures: one of she and Siena when Siena attended the game in Ottawa, and one of she and Camden when Camden visited right before lockdown. The second picture was the group shot of the outdoor practice, where she was freezing her butt off but having the time of her life. The third, and perhaps the one that hit her the most, was a picture from the Night With the Blue and White. In it, she was posing for a picture with Brendan, Jason, and William, with a champagne flute in her hand. Her smile took up half her face.
She let out a sob.
It wasn’t that she looked so happy. It wasn’t that she could still remember the way William smelled that night. It wasn’t how less than ten hours after the picture was taken, she and William had sex and admitted they wanted to be in a secret relationship. It wasn’t that they had followed through with that promise now for months. It was that the picture depicted normalcy. Her job. Brendan. Jason. William. It depicted life before masks, before social distancing, before hand sanitizer being more readily available than water, before lining up outside of grocery stores. It depicted a life that seemed so far in the past. Giant gathering. Group photos. Seeing someone teeth when they smiled. Putting your arms around another person for a hug.
Now, she found herself alone in a hotel room, within an artificially created bubble, for a hockey team, with no physical contact with the outside world. Nothing about this was normal. Nothing.
***
William decided to call Aberdeen. Everybody was holed up in their rooms unpacking everything they bought, and the hotel was eerily quiet for so many people staying in it. He figured it was because the hotel was old, and its walls were solid – none of this new construction, shitty craftsmanship. These building was built by fucking donkeys, as evidence by the photographs in the lobby. Donkeys and stone; so these walls were thick. Some of the boys had checked up on him to make sure his PlayStation set up had gone smoothly. It did. But William could care less.
“Hello?” Aberdeen answered her phone.
He could immediately tell she’d been crying. “What’s wrong, minskatt?”
“These damn pictures they put up in my room,” she admitted immediately – no need to beat around the bush. “They framed the one we took with Jason and Brendan during the Night With the Blue and White.”
William understood completely how and why that would affect her. “Yeah, I get it. They put a bunch of pictures of my family. Well, my parents and my sisters.”
“No Alex?”
“He’s too ugly to be in a picture,” William deadpanned. He heard Aberdeen snort slightly on the other end. He found solace in the fact that he was able to make her laugh. “The pictures really got to you, huh?”
“It wasn’t just that,” she said. “Just seeing all the families say goodbye to each other. I watched John say goodbye to Jace and it made me emotional, but then I saw Jason saying goodbye to his girls and I absolutely lost it,” she revealed. “I kept it together for the bus ride but the second I got in here and saw these pictures, it was, like, a tidal wave.”
“How can I make it better?” William asked. He knew this would be hard on her – being in the bubble – and although he cautioned against it, Aberdeen made her own decision at the end of the day, and he respected that. It didn’t mean the bubble experience would be any better for her, but at least she made the decision herself and she came into it knowing what she was getting herself into. Aberdeen wasn’t a stupid girl. Far from it.
“You wanna just stay on the phone with me? So I can hear your voice?” she asked timidly.
“Of course,” he answered, equally as softly. She could practically see and feel his smile through the phone. “Want to practice your Swedish with me, minskatt?”
***
July 27th, 2020
“A girl?!”
Aberdeen’s ears turned red as she heard the gasp from behind her near the conference room where the Leafs were designated to eat all their meals. She was apparently a novelty. Because they had to stay holed up in their hotel rooms for most of the day, unless it was a pre-planned excursion or meal, she hadn’t seen any other women. It was awful. And now this.
She looked behind her as discreetly as she could. She saw two men – boys – wearing New York Islanders t-shirts staring at her. She recognized them immediately as Mat Barzal and Anthony Beauvillier. She glared at them.
“Is she here delivering the food?”
“She has a badge, you idiot.”
“You’re telling me she works for the team and they brought her into the bubble?”
She wanted to scream at them. But she didn’t have to. Kyle Dubas appeared out of nowhere right beside her, clutching a coffee and a banana. “Miss Bloom,” he greeted her formally, and loud enough so Mat and Anthony could hear. “Shanahan is going to need those CORSI stats for Matthews and Tavares after we eat.” He glanced at them quickly. “Boys,” he nodded a greeting.
They scurried away.
Aberdeen looked at Kyle. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“Does Shanny really need those CORSI stats?” she asked.
“No,” Kyle shook his head. “I said that so they wouldn’t fuck with you.”
***
July 28th, 2020
Aberdeen was waiting for the exhibition game to start. Yet again, she was experiencing her second exhibition game for a hockey team she never thought she would work for, let alone for this long. She was in their usual box with Kyle and Brendan, but it felt different. No fans. No other personnel. The only other people around were the extra players sitting in the seats below them. The media was around somewhere, but nowhere near her. The boys were warming up on the ice.
“You okay?” Brendan asked as he looked at her.
Aberdeen nodded. “Are you?”
“As okay as I can be,” he shrugged. “I don’t get nervous about exhibition games.”
“Did you think I’d be here long enough for two sets of exhibition games?” Aberdeen asked, wiggling her eyebrows slightly.
He huffed, giving her a joking look. She began giggling. “To be honest…no.”
“Yeah, me neither. Don’t worry.”
***
Thirty-three seconds into the first period, Ilya Mikheyev scored off a pass from John Tavares that Aberdeen had seen one hundred times in training camp. She smiled wide.
Hockey was back.
#william nylander#william nylander imagine#william nylander fic#william nylander fan fic#toronto maple leafs#toronto maple leafs imagine#toronto maple leafs fic#toronto maple leafs fan fic#william nylander blurb#toronto maple leafs blurb#nhl#nhl imagine#nhl fic#nhl fan fic#nhl blurb#hockey#hockey imagine#hockey fic#hockey fan fic#hockey blurb#the president wears prada series
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"So, I was thinking": a modern college!AU:
Johnny is bored. He has already finished all of his crosswords; all of his friends are busy minding their own business and won't pick up their phones.
Classes won't begin until next Monday. Johnny arrived at his dorm last night and he doesn't know when his roommate will be there. All he knows about this person is his name: LaRusso, Daniel.
Wondering about this mysterious boy could set Johnny free from his boredom. Is he a nerd? Or a drama kid? Johnny hopes he won't sing all the time. Of course he likes music (who doesn't?), but musicals... he isn't ready for them yet.
It would be nice to have some common likings with him. Maybe horror movies or breakfast for dinner (well, Johnny is so broke that he eats it for all meals, basically).
Remembering the old times, which weren't good, not at all, tugs at Johnny's heartstrings. He doesn't miss arguing with his parents all the time, but he certainly liked not having to iron his clothes himself. And he misses messing around with Tommy, Jimmy, Bobby and Dutch after school.
Oh, and Karate! Johnny misses it so much that it hurts. He couldn't find a Karate club to join (is this a thing? In Johnny's opinion, it should be. There are clubs for everything in this campus. If he can't find one, he'll form one). Maybe he can practice with Daniel and he could be the second member of the Karate club.
"Hello! I'm Daniel!"
Johnny stares at the boy. He's short, dark-haired and has round brown eyes.
"Johnny", the blond boy gets up, approaches Daniel and shakes his hand. "Can I help you unpacking?"
"Please", Daniel sighs and rubs his neck. "My mother just dropped me off and turned the car around. I barely had time to say goodbye. Can you believe it? I think she wants to rent my room while I'm gone, but I don't think I'll be going home anytime soon. How about you?"
Obviously, the first thing Johnny learns about Daniel is: he's a chatterbox. Second thing: he's from Jersey. He lives with his mother and would love to learn martial arts, but her mother wouldn’t let him because she’s afraid he will get hurt.
"I know Karate", Johnny confesses with a little smile.
***
Sometimes, Johnny regrets having told Daniel about his passion for Karate, because the kid didn't stop begging Johnny for some classes until he finally gave up.
Their dorm is too small and they would destroy it sparring there, so Johnny decides to have the class outside, behind the gym. Daniel said he would meet Johnny there after dinner (and yes, Daniel also has breakfast for all meals, since he is just as broke as Johnny).
December is on the way, so Johnny is wearing as much sweaters as he can (including his Cobra Kai jacket). He leans his back against the red brick wall and puts a cigarette between his lips.
Daniel shows up some minutes later, carrying a heavy messenger bag on his shoulder and wrapped in hoodies and coats (he has lots of cool hoodies; Johnny loves to borrow them and he is using the baseball one right now).
"Ugh", Daniel puts the bag down, massaging his shoulder.
"Are you ok?", Johnny asks with a worried look on his face.
"Perfect. Let's do this."
They get on fighting positions and spar for a while. When they get tired, they walk back to their room, peacefully talking about the day.
"Let me carry this for you", Johnny picks the messenger bag, even though Daniel has already bent to pull it.
He places it over his shoulder and Daniel walks beside him, ranting about his lame Calculus professor.
"I couldn't convince Mrs. Warter to postpone the paper's due date", Johnny complains when Daniel asks about his day. "I'll be lucky if I get a C on it."
"Do you want me to help you?"
Yes, please, he almost answers. Johnny enjoys having Daniel around. They don't have many common likings besides Karate and breakfast food, but he really enjoys staying up late with him, sharing their only desk (Johnny begun to work as a cashier in a store near the campus and Daniel writes other people's assignments for money and they are saving money to improve the place) and laptops on study sessions. Or to spend rare and lazy Sundays in their room, doing crosswords (Daniel bought some magazines and gave to Johnny). Or to share breakfast meals in the middle of the night because they can't sleep.
"Are you free tonight?", he asks, his voice sounds desperate, just as his eyes.
"Is this a study session or a date?", Daniel replies jokingly and raises an eyebrow. "Sure. I can help you."
Johnny opens his laptop and shows Daniel what he's working on.
"I mean, it's not bad, but could use some adjustments here and there. Let's get to work."
Daniel presses the keyboard keys hard with strong movements that emulate a pianist, but with perfectly tied hair. His brain is formulating what should be in the text and getting rid of what shouldn't be read by Johnny's professor.
"I think we're done here", Daniel declares.
"Thanks. I'm gonna buy you a coffee tomorrow, with extra cream."
"Much appreciated", the boy winks and Johnny's heart skips a beat. "So, I was thinking..."
"What a miracle", Johnny teases, smiling to distract Daniel from his blushing ears.
"Anyway, are you going home for Christmas?"
"I don't think so. You?"
"Also no. I don't have enough money for a ticket to Parsipanny."
Daniel looks at Johnny for a moment. His blue eyes are usually shiny, but now... he's more than just sad. Johnny looks depressed and scared.
"Are you alright?", Daniel reaches for Johnny's hand. "You can talk to me. I'm here for you."
Johnny doesn't talk. Instead, he goes for a hug. A big and warm hug. He clings onto Daniel as if he was the only thing keeping him from being blown away.
He doesn't want to cry. However, he can't fight the tears anymore. Daniel holds Johnny, trying to keep him together only with his bare hands. He doesn't try to whisper comfort words in Johnny's ear, he just stays there, providing his roommate all the support he can.
That night, Johnny falls asleep in Daniel's arms. He has never felt this safe before.
The next morning, Johnny rushes to the closest cafe shop to get the nicest cup they have. He drops by the dorm to put the coffee on the desk with a note: To the best roommate ever. Thank you for everything. Love, J.
He sends the paper to Mrs. Warter as soon as he takes a seat in the computer lab for his first class, hoping Daniel's help can save his poor ass from failing Warter's class.
A few hours later, Johnny is waiting for the last class to begin so he can get to work. Not that he likes standing up by a counter telling old people where they can find raisins, plum juice and other things old people buy. But at least, he gets to listen to his music and does little pieces of homework between a client and another.
There is something Johnny can't do at the store: see Daniel. Too bad they don't take many classes together, because every time Johnny sees Daniel entering the classroom, the world changes. It becomes brighter and more beautiful. He knows it's cliché, but Johnny is tired of pretending to be the perfect son, athlete... he just wants to be Johnny.
And Johnny is brave.
"So, I was thinking...", Johnny says when Daniel sits by his side.
"That's unusual", Daniel lets out that amusement air through his nose. "What is it?"
"Do you wanna go out? With... with me?"
That is really unusual. Johnny never was this reticent before. Not even when he noticed he had a crush on Ali Mills.
“Yeah, sure. When?”
“How about Friday? My shift ends at 5:30.”
“Sounds great.”
***
Johnny spends Christmas in his dorm, with Daniel. They curl up on Johnny’s bed, wrapped in Daniel’s hoodies, solving crosswords puzzles and drinking tea while listening to Johnny’s music. Neither of them wants to talk about their families.
Growing up as an only child, Johnny never had to share his things. He wouldn’t even allow Ali to read his poetry (he wrote some about her, tho), or let his friends go through his Spotify playlist. Not because he's embarrassed to like these songs, but because the lyrics describe him so perfectly that he's not comfortable with someone listening to it in front of him.
When he met Daniel and found out they could be good friends (maybe more than that? Johnny certainly hopes so), he felt an urge to take the boy on a journey through his world. First, they shared Karate, then crossword puzzles and went on and on, discovering little things about one another.
“Huh… I couldn’t get you anything for Christmas, so I wrote you a poem. Wanna hear it?”
Daniel doesn’t say anything, just gets closer to him as Johnny clears his throat and searches his notebook for his newest composition. Once he finds it, he puts the paper in front of his eyes (he was brave enough to ask the boy out, but not to have that lovely brown eyes gazing at him while he reads his feelings out.)
“I loved it, Johnny. Now get ready for your present.”
Johnny doesn’t close his eyes when his lips are pressed by Daniel’s mouth. It feels so good that they do it again and again until they fall asleep, holding each other.
***
Graduation is almost here. Most students have moved from the dorms or plan to do it soon. Daniel and Johnny, on the other hand, haven’t mentioned the matter yet. As you can imagine, they don’t want to live with their families again. The only thing Johnny wants is to stay with Daniel and he wonders if Daniel wants the same thing.
“Hey, Danny”, it was supposed to be a nice and quiet study session before the finals, but Johnny can’t hold this down any longer. “I was thinking… do you wanna live with me?”
“Are you kidding me? You’re never getting rid of me, blondie.”
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Because You're Beautiful
Word Count: 1264
Pairings: Lucifer Morningstar x Plus size Reader
Warnings: fluff, angst, possible trigger
A/N: Request from Wattpad, nearly all of my stories are made to fit pretty much anyone's body type and or ethnicity, as I try to keep the reader's description as vague as possible, however if you'd like to directly address a certain aspect, like this story, feel free to ask!
“Loving your body is about being comfortable in your body, and only you get to set the parameters of that. Only you get to decide what that looks like, and only you know where the finish line is. Never let anyone make you feel ashamed about what you decide, or don't decide, to put on your body.” — Brittany Gibbons
Summary: You hadn’t really wanted to go to Lux, to a crowded club, with so many people. But Lucifer had looked so hopeful when he asked you to come, and you never could say no to him. When the night quickly turns sour though, your loving devil is there to remind you just how much he truly loves you.
.................................................................................
You stared at yourself in the mirror, dawned in the nicest dress you owed. Well truthfully the dress you had bought just for this occasion. You shifted nervously as you begun to second guess yourself the longer you stared.
Was this dress the right color for you?
Was it the right style? The right length?
So many doubts began to cloud your mind. You were thicker than most girls and although you were happy with yourself, your insecurities still reared their ugly head from time to time. The abrupt knocking on your door silenced your runaway thoughts. You took one last dissatisfied look before moving to answer it. The familiar smile of the handsome man on the other side quieted your insecurities just a little and you smiled back, albeit rather stiffly.
"My darling you look stunning! Is that a new dress? I haven't seen it before." He smiled approvingly as his eyes roamed over your figure.
You shifted from one foot to the other under his intense gaze.
"I just bought it actually, I figured I should look nice for tonight."
Tonight being the first night you'd agreed to accompany Lucifer to such a crowded place. The first night you allowed him to proudly show you off as his girlfriend. You were normally more reserved in your relationship with Lucifer. You'd seldom agree to go anywhere too many people would see. You had told him it was simply because you were shy but in truth you felt almost ashamed. The women Lucifer used to date were stunning, perfectly sculpted, and much, much different from you.
So, despite your anxiety, your insecurities, your fears, you'd agreed to come out with him tonight. Agreed because he'd asked you so sweetly, agreed because he'd been so eager to show you off.
You, his beautiful girlfriend, as he put it.
And him, the gorgeous man, far out of your league.
"Well I think it’s beautiful on you, shall we?"
Lucifer held his arm out and you wrapped your arm around his. His smile was almost blinding, and he led you to his car, beaming in pride.
The ride to Lux was mostly quiet, at least from your end, Lucifer however had no problem chatting away. Even if it was more of a one-sided conversation. You caught every other word he said, mostly trying to psych yourself up for the evening ahead.
When the two of you had finally arrived you were a puddle of anxiety and stress. He must have sensed your internal dismay and gently placed a hand on your thigh, his smile encouraging and his eyes filled with worry.
"You'll be fine my dear, and if it gets to be too much, we can always sneak out." He winked.
You let out a breathy laugh, a bit more at ease and you nodded. Lucifer leaned over, kissing your forehead.
"My beautiful love." He murmured.
~
The night although a bit stressful was going wonderfully, you were actually having fun. Lucifer was showing you off to anyone he could, a proud and somewhat smug look on his face the whole time. His introductions often started with 'my beautiful' or 'my lovely' and once even 'my goddess', you'd elbowed him for that one. Lucifer's affection for you made you feel like you were on cloud nine and your worries melted away.
Until he left you alone to refill your drinks.
You'd been standing at a table, glancing around at all the people when a woman approached you. She had silky black hair, and porcelain skin and her dress clung to her slim figure in the most flattering way. Her expression held no kindness and you frowned a little.
"You're Lucifer's girlfriend?"
It was a seemingly innocent question but the way she'd said it, with such distaste and disbelief, made it clear what she really thought.
"Yes..."
You really wished your voice hadn't come out so quiet.
"Why?"
She looked you up and down, a disapproving frown on her face.
"Look at you."
Her words stung and you visibly flinched as if she'd slapped you.
"He's just..."
"Is this a sort of pity date? Is he doing you a favor?"
Her questions made you feel small, so insignificant.
"I'm sorry but who are you?"
You tried to sound indifferent but your voice faded off.
"Lucifer and I used to hook up now and then, he broke off our arrangement whenever he started dating though. I just didn't know it was for someone like you. You're not nearly as skinny as the girl's he usually goes for."
She curled her lip in disgust and you cast your eyes downward, suddenly ashamed and fighting back tears.
"You don't belong with someone like him. Look at you! You'll only weigh him down." She smiled cruelly pushing past you.
You stumbled back when she intentionally bumped her shoulder into yours. A hand on your back steadied you and you watched as the woman took a step back. Her vicious smile gone.
"Lucifer... I-I didn't see you there..." She said.
You looked up at your boyfriend, whose expression was dark and furious. His hand moved from your back to your waist, and he pulled you close to his side.
"Clearly."
The tone of his voice sent chills down even your spine and you weren’t the one on the receiving end of his anger.
"I was just-"
"I heard what you were doing Molly. Now leave my club, you're no longer welcomed here." Lucifer snapped.
The woman, Molly, gaped at him in disbelief, and she stuttered out a protest.
"You're kicking me out! Over her!? How could you choose someone like that over me!"
Lucifer gave her a vindictive smile, and he held you closer.
"Because her beauty isn't skin deep, and quite frankly my dear, you're as shallow as a puddle, I prefer someone with a little more depth, which you lack entirely. You may have your looks, but you're a truly hideous human being."
Lucifer waved the bouncer over and led you away as you listened to Molly screech as she was escorted out.
~
Lucifer had taken you up to the penthouse, encouraged you to take off your heels and had gotten you a slightly stronger drink than you'd had before.
"I'm sorry I left you alone for so long darling, are you alright?"
You forced a smile, waving a hand dismissively.
"I'm alright Luc, it's nothing I didn't already know."
He frowned at your words, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.
"I'm sorry?" He questioned.
You averted your gaze from his.
"She wasn't wrong, sure her words hurt, but she had a point."
Lucifer felt his heart ache at your words.
"What did she say Y/N?"
You stilled refused to look at him, instead choosing to pick at the fabric of your dress.
"That you were out of my league, I would only weigh you down, that I'm... I'm well I'm thicker than most girls. Just reminding me of things I already knew." You mumbled.
Lucifer was quiet for a moment, and you couldn’t bare to look at him. But in the next second your drink was plucked from your hands and you were being pulled into a crushing embrace.
"Oh love, don't you know I think you're perfect how you are? You're a kind and wonderful person. You light up a room just by walking in, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
You blinked back tears, holding him tightly as he kissed the top of your head.
"Darling I wouldn't change a thing about you." Lucifer muttered.
"Even if I'm heavy?"
He chuckled pulling away to cup your face in his hands.
"Especially that, besides there's just more for me to love, and I do love you, very much."
................................................................................
Tag List: @sallyp-53 @mizzezm @adira-secrets @we-are-all-alittle-strange-here @gingernarwal @im-just-along-for-the-ride @lifeshortbro @measure-in-pain @emiwrites3reads @stubby-toe-589331 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @kelly-n-russell @krispyalpacaduck
#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer morningstar#lucifer morningstar imagine#lucifer morningstar imagines#lucifer morningstar one shot#lucifer x reader#luciferonfox#luciferonnetflix#lucifer fox#lucifer netflix#lucifer morningstar oneshot#lucifer morningstar x you
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helping hand ☆ joshua bassett
requested by: @differentplaidpalacehorse tysm for ur submission !!
when y/n gets into a little accident, all she wants and is her best friend to take care of her
warnings: fluff
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
“Why did you think it was a good idea to go ice skating if you have never skated in your life?”
Although you couldn’t see your mom through the pillow you smothered on your face, you knew the smirk she had across her lips, and the way she would be leaning against your doorframe trying not to laugh at your injury.
“My friends invited me and I thought it would be fun.” You answer embarrassingly.
A small giggle left her mouth, making you groan into your pillow. Her footsteps grew louder as you sensed she was walking towards your tired body lying down. The once dark vision you had from your eyes being covered now burned, as your vision was now bright from the sunshine shining right onto you through your window. She took the pillow and carefully lifted your right leg, trying to minimize the discomfort you felt as your tightly bandaged ankle now rested on the cushion.
“You’re lucky it’s a small sprain, or else I would be making fun of you more.”
“You know, I appreciate your help, but I don’t appreciate the insults I’m getting right now.”
Your mom’s laughter grew at your comment. “I know, just trying to lift the mood. I’ll get you a new ice pack.”
She leaned down to kiss your forehead, and you whispered a small ‘thank you.’ Before she left your room, she made a small gasp and turned around to look at you and smile.
“By the way, Josh is on his way here. I told his mother what happened and he insisted on coming over.”
And with that, she left you to be alone in your room to soak in all the pain in your ankle. Of course, it didn’t take long before you heard familiar footsteps coming up the staircase leading to your room, but what surprised you was that it wasn’t your mom bringing the promised ice pack, but your best friend, Josh.
“Hey, Y/N!” He greeted excitedly.
In his arms, he held numerous items you assumed were for you. From what you could tell, he held a bag of your favorite candy, two water bottles, a small bottle of advil, and an ice pack.
“Hi, Joshy. I didn’t expect you to be here so quickly.”
You watched as he pulled the chair from your desk right beside your bed and gently placed all the goodies he had on your bedside table. He sat down on the chair and helped you sit up and lean back against your headboard, and gave you the ice to put on your leg.
“When I heard that my best friend was being an idiot and broke her ankle, of course I get here as quickly as possible.”
You lightly punched his arm, making him laugh. “I didn’t break my ankle, I sprained it. And I’m not an idiot.”
“Then why did you decided to go ice skating when you have never skated before in your life?”
“Ok, I get it!” You annoyingly huff, leaning your head back and squeezing your eyes shut.
His laughter erupted in your ears, making you feel more calm. “Sorry, it’s just funny.”
You turn to look at him and notice his smile, making your frown disappear instantly. His eyes widened as he grabbed the candy and water from your table.
“I bought you some candy to make you feel better, and some water to take with the advil your mom told me to bring you.”
You grabbed his hand from his lap, squeezing it in your own, not noticing his now red face. “Thank you, Joshy.”
He winked at you before asking, “How did you even sprain it?”
You sigh, “Well, my friends wanted to go out and ice skate, and when I told them that I didn’t know how to, they offered to help me. They held my hand for a while and I somewhat got the hang of it, and when they let go of my hand, I immediately slipped and twisted my ankle, so we went home.”
“Well at least they were nice enough to take care of you until they dropped you off here. And you’re lucky to have the most amazing best friend in the world that I am now your servant for the rest of the day.” He announced proudly.
You rolled your eyes playfully at his remark. You eyed the orange hoodie he was wearing, making your smile grow wider. He noticed your face, shaking his head and laughing as he pulled at the collar and bringing the piece of clothing over his head, throwing it at your face once it was off.
“Thank you, sir.” You grin as you slip on his hoodie, immediately smelling the familiar cologne he always wore.
“Anything else for my lady?”
You turned to look at your bed, noticing the empty space. You opened your arms, “Cuddle?”
His eyes widened slightly, his cheeks blushing harder than before. He messed with his hair lightly before standing up and climbed over you to the empty side of your bed while you lied down.
While climbing over you, his foot kicked at your iced ankle, making you squirm at the instant pain you felt. He felt it immediately, checking your ankle as you bit your lip to try and not scream.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s ok, I’m ok.” You groan, “Just cuddle me, please.”
He lied down next to you, moving his arm under your neck for you to use as a cushion, and opening his other arm to wrap around your shoulder. You snuggled into his chest, holding his waist tightly. The absolute comfort you felt was indescribable, as this was the nicest feeling you’ve had since you left the house this morning to go with your friends.
Josh was always a gentleman, not just to you but to everyone he meets. You admired the way he could be so caring and respectful to everyone, no matter what their attitude towards him is. Anytime he was with you, you felt so carefree and happy. That’s just the kind of light that Josh brings to every room he entered.
Even after the three years of friendship you had with him, nothing ever changed between you. It was always you two against the world, and nothing could ever change that. Not even the playful teasing both your parents make about you two being a couple or liking each other, which you never saw. You were sure that you would always be just friends, even if everyone else in the world told you otherwise.
“You really didn’t have to come over and take care of me.” You mumble into his chest.
“I wanted to, you know I would choose to hang out with you in a heartbeat.”
You smiled against his body, nuzzling your head further into him and squeezing his waist tighter against you. He did the same to you, his arms tightening around your shoulders.
Josh looked down at you, smiling to himself like an idiot as he couldn’t help but get goosebumps at how close you were. He could see your eyes slowly flutter shut, and lightly chuckle to himself as he saw you try to stay awake. Soon, you heard his soothing voice sing into your ear. You couldn’t tell what he was singing at this point, just that it sounded like an angel. Within seconds, you fell asleep in the safety and warmth of his arms.
➢➣ ➢➣
You jolt awake, only seeing the black shirt that Josh was wearing. You look up and see he’s still asleep, quietly laughing at the soft snores coming from his mouth. As you gently turn your body, hoping not to wake him up, you grab your phone from the table and check the time. It had only been about an hour since you fell asleep, so you put your phone back down and turn around to face him again. His eyes were slowly opening, and you instinctively move the hair covering his forehead.
“Good morning, sunshine.” You joke, watching as he was slowly waking up completely.
“Is it really morning?” He asks, his voice slightly raspy. He rubbed his eyes, stretching his arm out a little before holding your body against his again.
“We only slept for an hour, but we should get up now before we sleep for the rest of the day.”
“What if I want to sleep here for the rest of the day with you?”
You raise your eyebrow at his question. “Why would you want to?”
He sits up slightly, resting on the side of his body. His arms trailed down to your waist, tracing small circles on the small exposed part of your skin from where his hoodie rode up. You felt tingles travel through you, confused by the new sensantion your feeling. Just the way he was looking at you, a smile barely present on his face, made your cheeks burn up.
Maybe you never really focused on his features until now, like the way his eyes would shift to a gold hue when the light from outside your window shined perfectly on him, or how his brown curls perfectly framed his face, or the way his pink tinted lips looked so plump and smooth.
Maybe you never noticed the way he made you feel, like how he would always be the one to pay attention to you when no one would, or how he always stopped everything he was doing just to help you when you hurt yourself.
What you did know was that this new feeling made you a little nervous. You never thought of him as more than a friend, why would that change?
You shifted your gaze away from his, staring at the small designs on his shirt, as you knew that the more you stared at him the way he was at you, your face would be on fire.
“Y/N?” He mumbled.
You held in your breath lightly before looking up at him, but before you could do anything else, you felt your lips being attacked by his own. You were surprised, not because your best friend was kissing you, but because you kissed back. His hand squeezed at your waist as his other hand held your head tenderly, your hands moving from his sides to cup his cheeks. It was nothing like you have ever felt before. He was definitely more experienced than you, the way he was needy to be closer to you. You turned your head to deepen the kiss, hearing him groan quietly.
When he pulled away, you smiled at how his lips matched his red cheeks, and he could say the same thing about you.
“If you couldn’t tell, I really like you. I have for a while now.” He said breathlessly.
“I can’t tell, could you help me figure it out?”
He smiled widely as he crashed his lips against yours roughly. Your lips moved together quickly, feeling desperate to feel each other again. It was more passionate than the first one, if that was even possible. His hands, both now at your waist, pushed you further into the bed as he hovered over you. The movement was quick, and you both forgot that your ankle was still in a lot of pain until Josh’s foot kicked at it again. You pulled away, wincing at the harsh pain that stung your leg.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry Y/N!” He cried as he moved away from you.
You sat up and grabbed the ice that fell off your bed during your heated session with Josh and put as much pressure as you could on the bandages before it grew worse. He sat up beside you, rubbing your back as you tried to calm down from the pain.
“Some servant I am. I’m really, really sorry.” He apologized.
You turned to look at him, holding his cheek in your palm and sent a small smile. “It’s ok, we both got caught up in the moment.”
“I still feel bad.” He mumbled.
“If it helps,” You start, pecking his lips softly, “I really like you too.”
A/N - another late request , so sorry for coming out with it so late ): a few more to go then i can open your my inbox again . but i hope u guys like it , as of right now i feel like shit and writing this made me a little bit happier so i hope it does the same to u guys !! love y’all xx
taglist - @love-joshy @mzzjads @seaveyssparkle @iamveryborrrreddd
#ricky bowen imagine#ricky bowen x reader#ricky bowen#ricky bowen blurbs#ricky bowen fluff#ricky bowen angst#ricky bowen oneshot#joshua bassett x reader#joshua bassett imagine#joshua bassett#joshua bassett oneshot#joshua bassett blurbs#joshua bassett fluff#joshua bassett angst#hsmtmts imagine#hsmtmts
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