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wackatoshi · 3 years

Text

booty call

(time-skip) sakusa kiyoomi x reader

synopsis: (a lil alcohol, n.sfw themes obvs lol but nothing explicit) booty call or butt dial? sometimes, they can be one and the same.

horrible pick up lines, msby interactions, humour, sakusa’s a smooth texter... enjoy

When was the last time you felt the touch of another human being? Too long — which is why you’re marinating at home like a sad old sponge, deprived of affection, dousing your loneliness with a drink.

You tilt your head back, letting the last few drops trickle down your throat, fingers wrapped around the neck of a cheap wine bottle. It sends a buzz through your body, a sensation that pales in comparison to the magic of hands on hands, the warmth of someone’s skin pressed against yours.

Your bleary gaze lands on the phone — phones? you swear there’s two of them — propped on the coffee table in front of you.

Before you can think twice, you’re reaching out for it, fingers tapping through your passcode in a blurred hurry.

Before you can think twice, you’re texting your designated booty call.

At least, you think you are.

Sakusa Kiyoomi’s spending a casual night in with his teammates. He’s sitting on Atsumu’s couch, leafing through a book, when someone’s phone starts to ping with a ricochet of notifications. For the most part, he ignores it (because it’s half-past-nine, so it certainly can’t be his), until Atsumu glides over to the counter to have a peek.

“Oi,” he calls, a brow hiking up his face. “Omi. Someone’s messaging you.”

Sakusa furrows his brows in disbelief. Instantly, another six deafening dings burst through, making his phone jolt on the counter like it’s been shocked.

Atsumu drops his head to peer down at the messages. All of a sudden, his face breaks out into a devilish smirk, triggering all of Sakusa’s fight or flight instincts. He abandons the book, leaps to his feet and snatches the phone from the table.

He takes a single glance, and immediately blanches. His notifications are polluted with a string of raunchy messages, all from an unknown number. Even as he’s punching in the passcode, they keep coming, one after the other, an inundation of thirsty pleas clogging up his phone.

Frantically, he pulls up the chat and skims up to the top of the twelve new messages, each text horrifying him more than the last.

YOU: hey boo 👻

YOU: hiiiiiii

YOU: ☺️☺️☺️ feelin some typa way....you down...? it’s me. going

YOU: timber

What the hell. Sakusa scrolls on, in spite of himself.

YOU: where r u

YOU: i wanna [redacted] your [redacted] until u [redacted] ☺️☺️☺️ wkieowkskwiwk yes i do ahohga

YOU: rearrange my Guts like a scrabble board. desecrate my temple. plunder my down UNDER

YOU: please

He attempts to form a response, but your messages are incessant.

YOU: call me galileo coz im gonna make u see stars tonight 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩

YOU: name one thing wetter than the ocean

YOU: ;)

His face starts to burn. He’s not sure if it’s out of sheer embarrassment for your sake or something else entirely. He brushes the latter possibility away, because that would be absurd, he doesn’t even know what you look—

YOU: (Attachment)

Oh.

Okay, well, the face certainly doesn’t match the messages. He hates that his knee-jerk reaction is that you’re cute, even if the photo’s a blurry selfie bedazzled by a glittery Snapchat filter. Squinted eyes, puckered lips, adorable cheeks. He wonders, for a second, if you’re being catfished, until—

YOU: (Video Attachment)

And there you are, in all your ratty boxer-shorts-and-tee-shirt glory, making sweet love to your dispassionate carpet. Sakusa stares in abject horror. God, you must be completely off your face to be compelled to send something like this. He can just make out the faint sound of Nicki Minaj in the background, spitting a volley of encouraging rap verses while you flop around on the floor like a freshly-caught salmon.

If there’s anything impressive, he thinks, dryly, it’s your lack of shame.

“Oh?”

A voice beside his ear. One syllable, saturated in a knowing lilt.

With a start, Sakusa quickly switches his phone off, which only makes the whole situation look a hell of a lot more suspicious than it really is.

Atsumu, hovering close over Sakusa’s shoulder, can barely suppress his glee.

A tense moment passes between them. Sakusa stares him down, while his mind races, frantically searching for a way to disarm this ticking time bomb of a misunderstanding before it detonates into chaos.

Sakusa takes a deep breath.

“Don’t—”

“Sakusa’s got a booty call!”

Stunned silence descends upon the room. Heads turn, all movements frozen, and Sakusa can almost hear the rest of his team’s collective five-and-a-half brain cells lagging as they process the news. Before he can react, they’re all swarming around him like bees, buzzing with probing questions and teasing jibes.

“Who?” Bokuto demands, his eyes wide as an owl. “Who?”

Hinata’s over the moon.

“Congratulations!” he gushes, so sincerely Sakusa almost catches himself feeling bad. “I’m so happy for you! We all knew someone would come around, eventually!”

Sakusa frowns. “What do you mean—”

“Wait, really!” Inunaki exclaims, bounding over. “Show me!”

“Dude,” Atsumu laughs. “Do you even know what a booty call is?”

“Booty call?” he asks, his face crumpling with disappointment. “I thought you said beauty haul.”

“Enough,” Sakusa snaps, mildly panicking because his phone is vibrating yet again, much to everyone’s intrigue. “It’s not a booty call. Someone’s just got the wrong number.”

“Sure,” Atsumu sings. “Omi’s got a lover.”

“I don’t,” he bites again, and swats the wandering eyes away before checking the latest string of texts.

YOU: ;)))))((((()((((

YOU: coming? ha

YOU: get it

Sakusa starts typing his message.

SAKUSA: you’ve got the wrong number.

A pause. He hopes this is the end of it, until those three terrifying little dots bounce up on the bottom of his screen once again.

YOU: lmaoooo what

YOU: stop playiniwijek277383$:893&!:$3898 o nwmmaj

YOU: that was my butt btw

He scowls.

SAKUSA: you’re texting the wrong person...I don’t even know who you are.

You start to type again.

YOU: ...

YOU: ok thanos 😓

The easy solution would be to block you. But for some convoluted reason, Sakusa is not interested in easy tonight.

SAKUSA: who are you??

YOU: (Liked Your Message)

YOU: i askjj myself the same think every day :&&’l

SAKUSA: I think you should go to sleep

YOU: without me? ;)))

He doesn’t even bother to point out your blunder. You’ve already made enough of a fool out of yourself in front of him, anyway.

SAKUSA: please stop

YOU: fine :(

YOU: ...

YOU: WAIT A SEXOND

Sakusa waits.

(And waits.

And waits some more.)

A second passes, a minute passes, but the chat stays silent. And even though there’s not single peep from you or his phone for the remainder of the evening, Sakusa, for reasons far beyond him, keeps checking.

The next morning, you are nursing a terrible hangover.

A pounding headache behind your eyes, a discomfort over your hipbones — you shift the fabric of your shorts down and see a blossoming bruise on either side of your hips. Huh, did you actually end up getting some, only to forget the entire shebang?

Groggily, you reach across for your phone and open up your messages. One new text.

UNKNOWN: you there?

With a frown, you scroll up the conversation. As your hazy mind works to translate the text to words, the words to understanding, you almost scream with horror.

The picture. The video. The memories come flooding back to you. It plays for a fleeting second, and you catch all but a glimpse of your limp body smacking down on the floor with relentless force, before quickly scrolling away. But the harm is done, your mind is scarred.

Well, at least that explains the bruises.

Somehow, it only manages to get worse.

YOU: kiss

YOU: 💋*

YOU: soz typo

YOU: let’s make music coz i got a set of congas that go RATATATATATA

YOU: you must be poseidon because MY—

You stop there, pinching the bridge of your nose to allay the wave of humiliation drowning your dignity. The poor person on the other end. Their horrified responses are probably going to be branded into your mind forevermore.

Maybe you should just sweep this whole encounter under the rug.

Or maybe, you think, as your fingers tentatively start to type out a text, you should apologise.

YOU: hi. it’s me again. you were right, I had the wrong number. I’m so sorry

You’re about to launch your phone into the sun when it dings back with a response.

UNKNOWN: yeah, you’re good. not at flirting though

Oh? Your fingers fly across the screen before you can think.

YOU: really? but I kept you intrigued, didn’t I?

UNKNOWN: like a child at a circus

YOU: damn what kind of circus u taking ur kids to?

UNKNOWN: idk, the kind where people make complete clowns of themselves i guess

You swallow down a laugh.

UNKNOWN: what happened to you last night anyway? did you just pass out?

YOU: i did <3 thanks for ur concern

UNKNOWN: lol

UNKNOWN: the price you pay for a free show

YOU: shut up omg

UNKNOWN: can’t lie, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look at a floor so lovingly before

Oh, they’re teasing. You fight off a smile from working its way across your face.

YOU: very funny. now can I just trust that u will delete all trace of this train-wreck from ur phone 🥺

UNKNOWN: of course.

YOU: if I see it going around...

UNKNOWN: I think if people wanted to see an earthworm so badly they’d just go outside

YOU: SHUT UP

UNKNOWN: :)

Shoot. Why are you blushing over a smiley face at ten o’clock in the morning? This is absurd. You need a coffee, stat.

YOU: sadly I can’t reverse the damage, but would a coffee suffice?

There’s a long delay, and you start to panic.

YOU: or I could just venmo the $ to you. either works!

UNKNOWN: are you asking me if I want to get coffee with you? when you don’t even know my name?

YOU: names are irrelevant now. u have seen too much :/

UNKNOWN: maybe, but not all.

Your face flushes. You pause, fingers hovering over the keys for a moment, contemplating a smooth riposte.

UNKNOWN: sorry I’m walking, can’t text

A wave of disappointment slumps over you.

UNKNOWN: facetime?

Okay.

Okay okay okay okay okay okay.

You start to pace around your room, all too aware that you are still in pyjamas, your hair looks like a birds’ nest, and your voice sounds like you swallowed a brick the night before. It’s a disaster.

But so was last night, and yet this stranger still seems to be friendly.

YOU: sure

Your phone starts to vibrate, an unknown caller ID flashing across the screen. For a moment, you consider cancelling and blocking the number altogether, but the desire to put a face to the mystery behind the messages gets the better of you.

You accept the call.

His face pops into view — a masked man with black curls falling over his face like wisps of ivy, eyes dark as night, and two moles above his right brow, like the beginnings of a constellation. He raises a hand to shift down his mask.

“Hey.”

You hitch a breath. This man looks like he could be a reincarnation of Adonis, sent into the world as evidence that all those legendary gods really did exist once upon a time, and that some of them looked like this.

“Hi,” you reply, reverent.

He’s so cool, so collected. He brushes a few locks of hair from his face — a casual move that sends your heart skipping beats faster than you skip songs.

“I’m Sakusa.”

“Hi, Sakusa,” you breathe.

His lips twitch, almost imperceptibly.

He looks so familiar, but you can’t quite figure it out between your splitting headache and the way his gaze keeps flickering from you back to wherever he’s walking. Actor? No, surely you’d remember. Singer? That would be plain unfair. Model? You wouldn’t put it past—

“So,” he starts, wryly. “About that coffee.”

“Yes,” you rush to agree. “Coffee. It’s very good. Do you? Coffee?”

He laughs, shortly.

“You’re not drunk again, are you?”

“No.” You feel it, though, what with this man’s voice bearing a timbre that is downright intoxicating. But one long look at those coffee-coloured eyes would be enough to keep you up all night.

So you let him talk — he’s just like his texts, terse and concise, but isn’t brevity the soul of wit? He keeps you on your toes, with a dead-panned quip here and there, eliciting laughter out of your awful hangover. It turns out that you’re not even that far away from each other at all, a train station or two at most, which is some stroke of sheer luck. Sakusa starts to tell you about his favourite little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that nobody seems to have discovered yet.

“A coffee snob?” you tease.

He studies you, through the screen, and you almost feel the weight of his gaze as if he were right in front of you. He smiles, softly.

“I prefer to keep a low profile.”

And just before you hang up, with the details of a coffee shop date still fresh in your mind, you have the sense to ask for his full name.

“Kiyoomi,” he supplies. “Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

Rings a bell, doesn’t it? But when you tell him yours, he repeats it, and all you can think about is how your name has never sounded so wonderful before.

It’s not until you hang up, his name echoing in your memory, that you run a Google search for this man. Thousands of results. A plethora of pictures, teeming with irrefutable evidence of his good looks.

And oh, God.

You lift your gaze from your phone to stare at your closet door, where your brand spanking new work uniform hangs off the hook, bearing the emblem of a gold-trim eagle that blinks back at you, eyes narrowed as if to say—

What the hell have you just done?

#i love a good hot mess x together guy trope LMAOOO #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu x reader #hq sakusa #sakusa #ridiculous. do we still call these crack fics or is there a new term for it idk #PLEASE IGNORE THE MISTAKES I AM DOING MY BEST™

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hesther-mcg · 3 years

Text

chained

➥ pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

➥ summary: the one where two people are chained to one another, hopelessly in love but every bit of wrong for one another

➥ rating: angst, song fic, biker!bucky au

➥ warnings: explicit language, mentions of toxic relationship

➥ a/n: happy valentines day! in the name of irony i’m going to post this today, bc i can. this has been rattling around in my noggin for a bit now and i actually rlly like this. i hope u do too. i highly recommend listening to the song while reading, its also available on spotify.

chained :: elle king ft. cameron neal chained marvel m. list

We can run away, but we can’t hide for long

And all that lingers harms us

She’d tried it—moving houses, running away from the problems she was used to, changing things. She’d already tried it, and it had worked beautifully at first. The high of being in a new place, a place all to themselves, it was wonderful. And it had brought out the man she had started to believe was gone, the man she’d loved for so many suns and so many moons; years of her life having been spent growing alongside him, and she felt nothing short of complete satisfaction.

“Thanks for running away with me,” she’d whispered to him in the late hours of the night, head rested on his bare chest and his calloused hand running up and down over the delicate skin of her back.

“I’ll go wherever you want me to, babe,” was his promise, spoken softly into the dark with a tenderness reserved for her heart and ears only.

But all good things came to an end, and her life had brought truth to that statement. Things settled, routines came back and everything that lingered became visible. The issues that remained, the unspoken anger and unresolved conflicts rearing their ugly heads once again. She’d tried to pack up her life and her love and run away, but she was learning that she couldn’t hide for long.

I can lie to you, but the truth comes alive

Every time I die saying goodbye

Everything was a slow progression, the honeymoon phase wearing off slowly but surely; the conflicts creeping in where they weren’t welcomed. Again, everything was fine at first, they seemed to move as a team and it filled her heart with a warmth almost indescribable—they were so much of the same mind, in her eyes.

But then things drifted off course, the scales tipped in every which way except balanced—right where she wanted, and irritation grew to be the default when she saw his hands reach for the motorcycle keys. Betrayal became the default when she looked away from him and nodded her head, giving a flat and unconvincing ‘I’m okay,’ or ‘have fun.’ Hurt became the default when she bit her tongue until her mouth filled with the taste of crimson copper and her sobs shook her entire body, the sound of a roaring motorcycle engine filling the house.

She could lie, but he always knew. They had their problems, they battled through their conflicts, but they were still positive and negative forces magnetically pulling the other closer, two links in a chain stuck together for eternity.

Cause I don’t want to change

but I can’t stay this way

Love was a lot of things; sometimes she thought of it as something warm and familiar and safe, and other times she was convinced it was the chain that kept her around. She loved him, god damnit did she love James Barnes, but she knew that she was nearing her limit. Her heart could only take so much before she’d lose herself completely, and then she was done for beyond that point. Forever damaged; irreparable.

When Y/N thought about a life where she was on her own, miles upon miles away from the man she only wanted love and comfort from, her chest felt similar to how she imagined a sinkhole made the earth feel. The memories they shared, the laughs and the cries and the endless fun, it would forever haunt her if she were to leave—but one could argue that they already haunted her, already plagued her thoughts and dreams and every second she was breathing.

“What do you want?!” He’d screamed when she’d brought up her concerns, arms raised in the air and brows furrowed.

“Things can’t stay this way, James,” she’d stressed, fingers knotting her hair as they frantically ran through the strands.

And I don’t even mind staying chained, and thinking of you

Thinking of you

“What if I don’t wanna change?”

The breath had caught in her throat at his words, heart sinking to the pits of her stomach as her teary eyes bore into his, his figure blurry but radiating frustration.

“Then I’ll leave,” she threatened, the words burning her mouth as she spoke them. “I love you but I won’t let that stop me.”

But she always did—when he crawled into bed with slow movements and gentle hands, words soft, sweet, and oh so guilty. Apologies and false promises, admissions of love and sweet nothings, it mended her heart for the time being and she remained in the same place.

Is it up to me?

It’s always been up to you to find the peace we needed to

Strength had been dwindling, strength to fight for a relationship immersed in chaos. When things blew up, when the road grew rocky and dangerous and sometimes even lethal, it’d always been her to struggle putting the pieces back together. His words of affirmation and endless charm was the glue that only temporarily mended the cracks, but it was her will and her strive that got them there in the end.

Strength was dwindling, and she was starting to give up. “It’s always been up to me, James,” she’d told him, voice quiet, scratchy, and broken. “It’s always been me, but it’s on you now.”

He hadn’t responded, lips slightly parted as he took in the way that she didn’t even bother looking at him. He knew he’d been digging a grave, and he was starting to see that eventually he’d have to lie in it if he didn’t straighten up. The problems in their lives, in both him and her, they were deeply rooted and while she’d been trying to hack away at them, he’d only been watering them.

Is it said and done, is it carved in the stone?

How many days is it gonna take ‘til we get back home?

Most days, he did nothing but convince her that their fate was sealed—that their ultimate demise on the horizon and refused to move for anything. She’d tried and tried to tell herself that that wasn’t the truth, exalted all resources willing into existence the fact that they were meant to be—stuck together for the trials and tribulations that life undoubtedly bring them.

Things could change, and perhaps they would; nothing was said and done for them because only Y/N could write her story and only she could choose her ending.

But the harder she held on, the longer the path seemed to be. If what they had was a journey through struggle and strife, then the journey seemed years and years long—an endless battle to just make it through the days to even see the end of the road, and it more often than not left her wondering how long it would take before they would make it back home. How long would it be before they returned to where they started—sickeningly sweet, head over heels in love and willing to do anything under the sun for one another.

Cause I don’t want to change

But I can’t stay this way

If this was what growth was, then she wished someone had told her of how painful it was. It felt like scratchy throats from screaming matches, aching chests from nights spent clawing away at the burning skin, and so many more things that weren’t even worth listing. The point of it was that she was finally reaching the point where the door was opening, creaking slowly and revealing the outside world where she could escape.

Y/N didn’t want to escape, but she was starting to see that maybe it was what she needed to do. At one point she had loved her life because he had made the sun shine brighter every day and the stars twinkle a little more each night, and while she longed for that version of James he was not anywhere in sight—and hadn’t been for a long time.

She knew she couldn’t stay this way, she knew it and felt like a complete idiot every time she saw her own reflection, but, much like the aforementioned growth, this change was just as painful. And pain was something she’d felt enough of.

And I don’t even mind staying chained, and thinking of you

Thinking of you

The doors had all been slammed, every single one had the unfortunate fate of being in the path of an angry James, and a few of them hadn’t survived and refused to close completely.

“Why do you want to leave so bad, huh? If you don’t wanna be here then just fucking leave!” The emotional torment was clear as day in his voice as he screamed to the top of his lungs, and it tore her heart to shreds.

“You know damn well why!” She’d shouted back, face beet red as her chest violently heaved. “I don’t fucking deserve this, Buck, and I’m sick and tired of it!” Her nerves buzzed under the surface of her skin and she could feel her pulse in her face, and the man before her only stared back with dark eyes.

“You won’t change,” she’d sobbed. “You won’t and you know it, and if you loved me you would.”

“Y/N—” he’d started, taking a step forward but she’d held her hands out, pushing herself against the wall to get further away.

“No.” Her words were shaky yet void of fear; actually, James could hear the grit that she’d developed after dealing with his shit for so long and he felt his chest cave in slightly. “You stay there and you listen to me.”

Will you wake me up? Will you shake me up?

Cause I’m losing my way in the game

The cracks and creases on her heart deepened greatly, and when they did so she felt every bit of it. The way his eyes bore into hers, as if he was searching her soul like he’d done so many times before, made her look away—for this time she couldn’t trust him to search with good intentions.

“I’ve tried for a long time to make this work, and you can’t tell me you don’t see it. You’re not stupid, James; don’t pretend to be.” She’d shook her head with her last statement, hair going every which way and tears almost filled his eyes because she was right. “But it wont work if something doesn’t give and I’ve given enough!”

He nodded lamely, because that’s all he could think to do. He knew she didn’t want his words, they didn’t matter right now.

“Are you even serious about this? About us? You know this isn’t a joke, this is MY life! It goes way beyond just you and your issues and your anger,” her arms waved around in the air. “James, I’m losing myself in this and you’re supposed to save me!”

The tears did fill his eyes then, stinging the blue orbs and causing him to blink rapidly. He felt like shit, and every bone in his body ached with guilt.

Even at our best, my love

Neither one of us was ever really good enough

The realization that some things truly weren’t meant to be, that some people really weren’t meant to be together, was a tough pill to swallow. Y/N felt herself choke on it multiple times throughout the years, but it was finally down and done with. She couldn’t say if they were never meant to meet, or just never meant to stay together, but either way she knew that they were a recipe for disaster.

Her chemicals and his mixed together didn’t make the love that lasted a lifetime, the kind that made it through the dark and the light of the rocky road through life. They made poison, a stunning and paralyzing formula of toxic traits and deep rooted issues. They weren’t a match; even at their best they were never compatible—just too blind and in love to see it.

“I don’t know why I can’t change, and I will always stay this way,” she sang softly, her heartbreak shining through under the bright lights of the stage in a bar miles and miles away from the man she loved. The band behind her kept up well, putting the raw emotion behind every beat and note that this song required, and for that she was grateful. It was a slight break in the constant dull that she felt, a break that she was beginning to believe she wouldn’t see in her lifetime.

“And I don’t even mind staying chained,” the drawl in her voice was nothing short of old soul and broken dreams, and it wouldn’t have fit in anywhere other than the rundown bar filled with folks of a similar kind. She’d worn heartache daily long before she walked away from that house, but now it never seemed to wipe off. It was never ending, and so was the thought of him. She truly was chained to him, and sometimes in the middle of tear filled nights she told herself that he was still chained to her as well. “And thinking of you.”

Thinking of you, thinking of you, thinking of you.

➥ send as ask to be added to the bucky tag list!

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ubemango · 4 years

Text

commission 4: slow burn/best friends/college au w/ jin

(+or: we’re best friends and you’re literally So Great and i suck at knowing what i want but anyway i’m starting to think i like you ??????? au)

note 1: For my very very sweet and understanding friend @yeuj who helped me out when I needed it most .... I hope you enjoy 🥺🥺💕!!!!!! And thank you to Micah + Clove for helping me with my questions—thank you for your thoughtfulness, insight, and love!!!!! 🌷🌷🌷

note 2: I tried to make ramen-making as unboring as possible but it really is just....water and spice. If you’re confused about eating ramen at convenience stores please search that up on Youtube, I’ve exhausted my link resource skills (except for when I want you to listen to songs.) Also, the songs I mention are titanic/the end by cehryl and Subside by Eloise. I actually listened to Sweet Night on repeat while writing this so if u wanna listen to that... ;_;

note 3: everything about this story is in medias res. I realized I had no proper beginning or conclusion and I didn’t wanna change the flow of the story by concretely adding one or the other... so if the story feels incomplete/fragmented then please understand that this was a conscious and intentional decision done on my part :,) It’s slow burn!!!! I Love you ha ha!!

(i)

The library is open twenty four hours. The convenience store in the student centre is not.

“Please use your car,” you assert.

Seokjin huffs. “Then pay for my gas.”

It’s an empty threat. He’s got no business driving hard bargains when he has capital in the form of a rich CEO dad. He ignores your glaring, calmly closing his laptop, shoving it into his bag. Closing up shop after a derivative crisis you’d called him up for because he lives on campus, plus he never sleeps early. You appreciate that he gives into you so easily.

“Fine.”

So you go, searching for a convenience store that has those instant noodles you suddenly came up with a craving for this late at night. Seokjin’s used to it by now. You get things done when you want to, even if it means making a home of the pillowy chairs in the library you’d claimed for studying purposes.

The mathematical theory of chaos. You don’t want to think about it, and you click your seatbelt with a yell, throw your bag in the backseat with as much strength your anger allows for. “I hate school!”

“Please don’t scream in the car.”

“I hate it!”

Seokjin slots the key in. “Can you look up where the convenience store is?”

He tosses you his phone to unlock. You jab at the screen with more grumbling and colourful cursing, pulling up whatever Google Maps says is the nearest store open.

“Plug in the AUX cord,” Seokjin urges next. He merges into traffic, which is really only one car and the late night bus. A quiet night for your suffering.

“Can I play my—“

“Nope.” You sneer. Tapping open his playlists, you pass under orange lamp post after orange lamp post and scroll in silence before Seokjin groans. “I made a new playlist, pick that one.”

“What’s it called?”

You can see that he’s stiffened up. You don’t comment. “The one with the three heart emojis.”

Simple enough. You don’t care to sift through the songs, and the first one plays with one more indulgent tap of the screen.

Why don’t you tell her? I think you should. You know how you’re feeling, you can’t fight the truth…

Google interrupts the soft voice with the indication of the next right. Seokjin eases on the gas pedal. You watch him nod his head to the softness of the stereo. “I can’t pay for your gas.”

“I know you can’t.”

“I can pay for your ramen,” you suggest. Seokjin makes a quiet noise, like he’s amused by your generosity, or maybe he just thinks you’re dumb. You think it’s the latter.

“I don’t want you to pay for my ramen.”

“Then what do you want?”

The lamp post light striking Seokjin’s face gives way to the harsh red of the stoplight. In the stillness, he sends you a hard look. It makes you feel weirdly vulnerable, like he’s stripped you bare.

To make things worse, Seokjin says:

“Nothing you don’t want to give me.”

He doesn’t heed your confusion because he presses on the gas, looks straight ahead. You do too, and you try not to contemplate the cool brevity of his attention you suddenly want back. You push your uncertainty aside.

(He has a handsome face, you think.)

Seokjin interrupts, “So why’d you wait till now to study?”

“You know me.” Procrastination. The complete and utter mistake of underestimating the allotted time needed to get a successful grasp of concepts for your midterm. In not so convoluted terms, this class sucks ass.

“Yeah but that was—a lot of notes.”

It was. You probably pushed five weeks of material in the span of three hours. You can feel the very tips of your nervous system frying up as you pass through gas station-lit intersections. But there’s a real answer to his question, and you have the intense need to curl in on yourself in this leather seat.

“Well I would have started yesterday, but I was busy,” you counter.

“With what?”

“So you know Hyukjae from Psych?”

Seokjin pauses to listen to Google’s instructions, and immediately makes a left onto another main intersection. “Sure.”

“We went out yesterday,” you admit.

He hums a tight sound, tapping on the wheel. “Hm. How’d it go?”

It wasn’t bad. You shared butter tarts and laughed at his anecdotes and Hyukjae-from-Psych paid for your Uber home. He gave you a very weak hug before you slipped into the car. It was in that seat you’d decided you wouldn’t be sending him an I had fun! text that night.

“It was okay. Like, nice to me and stuff. But nothing…”

“…Worth revisiting.”

“Sure,” you mimic, and you wonder why he’s right.

“The guy’s okay,” he says. Almost like it’s with relief. “It’s—not to sound rude, but. Uh. I think it’s, uh—good. That you weren’t… interested.”

You think he’s gripping the steering wheel a little too tight. “Why?”

“Can’t trust guys with bad handshakes.” Seokjin chances a glance at you, and laughs at the confused scrunch of your eyebrows. “I met him during that networking conference in third year. Limp-wristed me. Like a chump.”

“Ew.” You can’t say he’s wrong. That hug Hyukjae gave you really was weak. The dude has noodles for arms. “But yeah, I guess you’re right. Wasn’t really my type.”

“Hm,” is all Seokjin comes up with. You watch him pass right through the turn Google tells him to take. “Oh shit. Sorry. I’m just. Thinking. About… limp… men.”

You snort. “What?”

“Like a man. A limp man. Hyukjae. Not me,” he clarifies fast—proudly— “just. Anyway! Back to you saying what your type was.”

“I wasn’t,” you accuse.

“Yeah well now I’m asking because I don’t wanna think about limp men. Your type, please.”

He sounds weirdly inquisitive. Demanding, almost. You chalk it up to the near-delirium of being awake past 1AM.

“I—don’t know,” you start. Somehow you feel like you’re messing something up. “He was kind, I like… kind. And soft. Sweet. You know Kim Taehyung? From Neuro? Like, almost big shoulders but not really. I like big shoulders. Yeah. Guys like Kim Taehyung-ish.”

Seokjin just hums again. There’s another song playing, and you don’t know how many you’ve rotated through in this playlist. You didn’t think it’d take this long to get to the store.

Google says it’s just two minutes away now. Seokjin says, “Cool,” and then sings along to the stereo.

You got me losing sleep over you… I usually sit still but now I can’t help but move… When I see you, I don’t know what to do…

(ii)

“Spicy or not spicy?”

“Whatever keeps my stomach lining intact,” Seokjin says.

You don’t say anything more and grab two of whatever ramen packaging isn’t scarily red. The convenience store is void of any customers, and the cashier rings you up with a very sour face for interrupting the show he’s got playing on his phone. His face shrivels up even more because all you can pay with is coins. Seokjin laughs behind you when you apologize for clattering the dimes too harshly on the counter.

“Enjoy,” the cashier announces, and he doesn’t mean it one bit.

The hot water machine at the back is a very intimidating thing next to the tiny display of cookies. Too many buttons and knobs you don’t understand, so Seokjin takes on the chivalric role and prepares everything for you. He rips the plastic open with gentle hands. Dumps the powder with too much conviction.

You both watch the water stream hot into the noodles. “Do you like macadamia nuts in your cookies?”

“I guess,” you say.

“Wanna split a cookie?” He hands you chopsticks to stir the ramen with, gestures at the cookie display with a jut of his chin.

“Are you paying?”

“Can you imagine if I made you pay after I asked to split,” Seokjin spits at you. “Yes I’m paying.”

“Then I want chocolate chip.”

He freezes, then jabs smartly at his noodles for a tense ten seconds.

“You make me mad,” he finally answers. “Should we eat in the car?”

“The bowl is too hot to hold.”

The counter at the window it is. You’re sad that you didn’t buy pickled radish, but your coin purse has weeped all its coinage out. Seokjin leaves you as Noodle Guard, going off to pay for that bonus cookie with a crumpled five. In the next second you contemplate the evaporation of ramen soup, the cookie is duly dumped right next to you, and Seokjin takes a huge bite of what still appears to be extremely hot noodles.

He promptly chokes, and makes sputtering noises.

“Holy shit,” Seokjin cries.

You take a much, much slower bite. “You’ll be fine.”

“I thought I could be cool for you,” he cries some more.

“You don’t need to be cool for me. Who eats ramen in a cool way?”

Seokjin nods his approval, that tear of theatrics sliding down his cheekbone. He eats carefully. A noisy car roils on outside, and passes quickly outside your periphery.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you remember to say.

“I love standing at counters and eating things hot,” Seokjin retorts. He dodges the fist you aim at his abdomen with swift ease. “It’s no problem.”

“I—“ You don’t really know why but you need to talk. “You know—you’re really, um, kind.”

Foolery. Absolute foolery that sentence was, and the cashier probably heard that foolery, and Seokjin definitely heard that absolute foolery, and he’s laughing. Like really laughing, caught with the noodles dangling from in-between his teeth. That’s all you had to say? The guy drove you out to get cup noodles out of his own volition. That’s kindness maxed out, and he deserves better than you fumbling between your teeth. Your nerves have fried up so bad, you guess.

Seokjin’s giggles dwindle down. “Thanks,” he says, smiling small.

You blame the heat of your cheeks from the heat of your soup.

Neither of you are desperate to get to that last quarter of noodles to broth ratio. The knots of your shoulders loosen with the sound of your slurping combined, and silently you are reminded of Seokjin’s warmth, standing so close to you.

The easiest path to a nice ending involves a happy belly and Seokjin driving you home with nothing more than a goodbye and a thank-you as you slam the car door shut. This is not unknown to you, because you and Hyukjae-from-Psych took that easy path yesterday.

You just don’t do this often, contemplating all the routes of romance. When is it appropriate to laugh at a joke, to wipe your mouth on the napkin? To smile and peel at your heart and grant that person access to all your inner workings? You belatedly notice that Seokjin did not bring napkins.

(The moment in the car—nothing you don’t want to give me—you want to laugh at his jokes, and smile, peel and peel and peel at your heart, but slowly. Slowly, you put your chopsticks down.)

How funny it is to come to very sound conclusions within a split second, because all you know is that it feels good, being with him like this.

Seokjin, in your quiet realization, takes it upon himself to decide the cookie-eating rights.

“Want the first bite?” He asks, propping the chopsticks horizontally on his bowl.

You nod. Desperately you try not to look at him because you might make more realizations, and you don’t think you’re ready for any more unleashed and unknown emotions. “Please.”

He gives it to you. The right side decidedly has more chocolate chips, and it’s a very nice explosion on your tongue. So nice you groan into it. “Oh that’s really good.”

He snatches the cookie away before you can take another bite. “I get bigger bites because I paid for it.”

“That—? Uh, that’s not how sharing works.”

“Yes it does,” Seokjin argues. But he just takes as normal a bite as ever. You can’t say you don’t focus on his mouth for too long, though—

—And you immediately seize up at the thought. Horrified, you shriek: “Actually just—have the rest of it!”

He looks alarmed. “O…kay?”

“You’ve got a nice mouth,” you blurt out next.

An absolutely awful feeling settles heavy in your stomach. Because almost immediately you realize that this is a kind and soft boy with nice anecdotes that have yet to be uncovered this night (he likes telling you stories) and he’s got wider shoulders than Kim Taehyung and you’re not sharing butter tarts but you’re sharing a cookie with him.

Another realization: does Seokjin have limp arms?

He puts the cookie down. (His arm looks very strong, doing that.) “I—thanks?”

“I think I’m losing my mind,” you note.

He watches you slump over the counter. Purposefully burying your face in your elbows to muffle your betraying mouth. “It’s late,” is all he says.

“Did that make you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all.” You don’t think you’re breathing. Your lungs have evaporated, like those steamy ramen noodles you just ate. Seokjin probably notices you’ve stopped moving, so he says, “Really.”

“Okay.”

“Did it—did it make you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all,” you say.

“Cool. Do you wanna go—“

You stand up straight, grab all your garbage before he finishes. You don’t look at him. “Yep, yep, please.”

(iii)

He puts the key in the ignition, and doesn’t budge.

“Somehow I feel like you wanna say something else,” Seokjin says.

You curl your hands into fists. “It’s late.”

“I’m aware.”

“I’m—I’m sorry.” You are acutely aware of how garbled you must sound. It’s starting to get on your nerves, how flimsy you’re being. “I’m not… thinking.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re being pretty articulate for someone with an empty brain.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Seokjin sighs.

The seat squeaks where you tense up. “I don’t want to think about your mouth.”

“Do you wanna know what I think?” You nod. Jesus. You’ll just let him do the talking from now on because your tongue can’t be trusted this early in delirium, late in the hour. “I—I…”

Seokjin struggles some more, then deflates. He starts laughing.

“I… don’t drive just anyone out to convenience stores at two in the morning for ramen. You have to know that.” He clears his throat. His eyes are shiny with the harsh glare of neon signs. “I guess I just—wanna know… what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking…” Your lips part. Searching for words feels like a physical thing—your stomach is swimming with what feels like a billion thoughts but nothing comes up for air. “I’m thinking I—don’t want to say the wrong thing.”

Seokjin turns to look at you. “I won’t make fun,” he whispers.

“I think. I think, you look—um—really… Good. Um. R-Really… good, right now.”

“Thanks.” He looks up like he wants to say something but his eyes harden where he gazes, locking in on the dust motes of the windshield. Your lungs swell small in the quietude. “I think you really look good, too.”

If baser compliments already have you burning then you don’t know what you’d do if he tried anything more romantically complex. Some people are meant for loud love stories and grand gestures and you—all you can do is think too much and you want to say more but Seokjin understands. He understands your silence, your ineptitude.

In a fit of controlled passion, you reach over the console, grasping at his knuckles till he flips his palm right into yours.

“Feels… ”

You wait for something to come to mind. A phrase, a proper thought to give utterance to, all the failures and successes of the night. Faithfully, nothing comes.

It just feels.

And Seokjin seems to agree. He holds tight between the grooves of your fingers.

“You’re very pretty and it hurts,” he says, and he doesn’t try to meet your gaze, and one feeling comes resolute: it feels right.

#bts scenarios #seokjin scenarios #jin scenarios #bts #jin #seokjin #ubemango fic #f: commissions

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selfcareparker · 3 years

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(lovely anon) ok so this may sound so dramatic but; let me paint you a picture: i’m responding to your latest message, sitting on the edge of the sofa. i type in “lovely anon” into the search and see this longgg post come up and i’m like uhhh... i scroll down and see the people you tagged and literally. when i saw @ lovely anon. i . cried . like full on tears. my brother goes “what are you doing” “she tagged meeeee” and he continued what he was doing and didn’t care LMAOO but i was so emotional? i love and appreciate you too and aAH IM CRYING!! you’re just really sweet and i didn’t expect it at all and it was really lovely to be a part of something :’)

the kermit pic sent meee but yes yes yes!! when you start uni let me know, lol i’m so excited for you!! let me know how it goes cuz i’m literally hype hahah & yes we will be in our sad corners of the world, missing england but you’re right it’ll be sooooo worth it in the end!!! and oH i’m glad you talk to them lol i truly thought you like haven’t seen them/haven’t spoken to them this whole time😭 that would’ve been awful!

also i totallyyy get what your saying about the english speaking thing. and idk why you’re insecure (well i *knowww* bc it’s not your first language and you’re studying it in college so yuh) but your english is great :)))

lol yeah that makes sense.. my mom took french in college and she remembers NOTHING HDJSHSJ (the fact that you wanna learn MORE languages i- ahh i so admire you.. you literally know so many languages🥺) yea i mean you know a bunch of languages bc you know the base of words lol, but i wonder if because you know latin it’ll be easier for you to learn french? oh- oh wait you said it’ll be easier HAHHAHA

THERES SO MUCH EXCITING STUFF TO TALK ABOUT HDGSJSJSL it’s so wild to me that you can’t watch chaos walking :( i’m a professional hacker tho so i’ll try and find a way for you LMAO (by professional hacker i mean i literally have gotten multiple free trials and i’m pretty sure the hulu police are after me bUT ITS THEIR FAULT BC WHY IS IT SO EXPENSIVE???) i mean the movie was good? and cute? and funny? but yea don’t think it’s gonna be the most fantastic thing haha AND THE DOGGO AWWW (i saw it again today- or my today lol, saturday, aND THESE OLD PEOPLE CAME AND SAT IN FRONT OF ME AND MY FRIEND LIKE ITS A LONG STORY LMK IF YOU WANNA HEAR IT)

SHARK FILMS?!?!! PLEASE READING THIS I HAD NO IDEA YOU WOULD LIKE SHARK MOVIES TOO FHSKSHSHDJDJGAJAYSJS ok so i haven’t seen any of the classics (i’m working on it) but i would probably watch jaws to laugh at it? not like that lmao but like comparing it. OKAY BUT HONESTLY I BARELY KNOW ANYONE WHO LIKES SHARK FILMS AHHH OKAY im adding “the shallows” to my watchlist bc it sounds super good AND SAME AHSJD ANY BODY OF WATER IN A MOVIE I JUST KNOW ITS COMING LMAO watch me not go in the water anymore after seeing that picture HHDJSJ

WHEN I READ THIS I JUST GOT DONE TALKING TO MY MOM ABOUT THE MEG AND THAT SCENE WHERE THE SHARKKK JUMPEDDDD AND ATE THE OTHER ONEEEE AND THEN JONAS HAD TO DO- bro i cannot (i think that one is my favorite because i love me a bit of romance and the subtle romance hAD ME) 47 meters down PHEW could you imagine?? i try not to think too hard about it i’m like “don’t be dumb catherine, don’t put yourself in a dumb situation” (not autocorrect having “dumb bitch” ready i am not lying) and i literally understand... there is no other way to explain 47 meters down

i CANNOT watch horror movies, can’t can’t can’t, i literally hate them i cannot do it!!! the thrill is tempting and it’s cool in the moment but i cant lmao. i don’t have nightmares about scary things (for the majority of the time) but going to sleep i’m like oooohhhhhh shit 🥲 literally what you explained

music !!!! music !!!! music !!!! (u ever write a word and now it looks weird lmao) MY BROTHER DOESNT LIKE MUSIC AND ITS SHIT IM LIKE WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU- anyway, my music taste is all over the place i mean......... it’s crazy. earlier today i was listening to meghan trainor’s album “title” oUT OF NOWHERE, but just a few minutes ago i was listening to fall in love with me by earth wind and fire soooo lol .. megan is *chefs kiss*, i’m not familiar with stormzy🙈, harry styles.... IM SORRY IM THAT PERSON but i don’t listen to his solo music EEK i only listen to adore you... and not that frequently... the music video freaked me out... i like niall’s solo music a lot more, which i listen to a lot more. now. one direction. favorite. please & thank you. i have a playlist called “boy bands” and it consists of one direction and the vamps (obsessed with cherry blossom btw) but as you can see my taste is all over the place!! fr fr if i sent you what apple music has as my “favorites” it went from ariana grande to carrie underwood to glee (OBSESSED DONT LET ME TALK ABOUT IT) i mean please if you let me i will nonstop (hamilton HDJSH) talk about music all day😩 & NOOO UR MUSIC IS GREAT HAHSK IM NOT A BIG RAP PERSON BUT DOJA CAT IS MY FAVORITE!!

okay good, i’m glad :) i was just nervous that you did feel that way <3 and GOT IT HAHAJ healthy pressure is always good :’) my friend got me these pens cuz i love stationary and school supplies lol and was like “now you have to write something” soooo yea i feel that! and i saw you posted the ficcccccc literally so proud of you 🥺🥺 i’m trying to decide if i read it tomorrow or tonight..... sleep or a literal beautiful creation made by the sweetest person and is v v nice smut and college!peter and 4.7k...... sleep aint really calling no more.

GIRL ALL OF MY SENTENCES ARE TOO LONG HAHAHAH IN FACT THIS IS TOO LONG SOOO (also why am i 3 days late..😑) anywho it’s 1 in the morning so <33 lovely anon

🥰

oh my god the fact that you cried nearly made me cry too😭😭🥺🥺 (also, your brother LMAO), i wasn‘t even sure if you‘d see it but i immediately thought of you so of COURSE i included you <333

the hulu police lsjsjaiaik, girl i was ready to get a hulu membership when i wanted to watch big time adolescence and i couldn‘t find it anywhereee, and when i got to the payment it said i need a bank account that‘s based in the US or whatever. like bro i was about to pay you!! but i was forced to find it somewhere (and i did, on levidia,— not that i‘ve ever used it because it‘s illegal 😤 i would never!!! i‘d rather support billion dollar companies and spend my money on watching films that i can find for free 🥰🥰🥰 not

i‘ve found chaos walking online so i‘ll watch it som time this week!! also YES TELL ME THE STORY

okay so idk if you watched/are planning on watching falcon and winter soldier but i watched the first episode the other day and they were speaking french (just a few seconds) and I UNDERSTOOD SOME WORDS DLDJDJ and i was so proud of myself. i‘ve only ever learned french with duolingo lol (i only do like 5 mins a day and that‘s why i was so surprised that i understood some of it!!). and yeah apart from latin i feel like italian, german, french and english are all similar in a sense.. i mean obviously they‘re completely different languages but for example there are some grammatical constructions in french that i think i wouldn‘t understand if i only spoke english? so when i translate those things into english you can‘t directly translate them bc you say things differently, but when i translate them into german then it makes more sense to me. idk that‘s something i noticed so i feel like if you already know multiple languages it‘s easier to learn another language compared to if you only know one language and are trying to learn a second one. even if the languages aren‘t similar then i think you get the hang of it easier.

ikd slsjsjs also i don‘t want you to think that i‘m a linguistic genius or anything lmfao, like i‘m only fluent in english and german and i‘m just a wannabe (ew that word) polyglot sksj (yes i had to google polyglot— i do think learning ancient greek would be super cool tho? like imagine studying latin AND ancient greek, whew). and honestly i don‘t think i‘ll ever be fluent in another language bc i don‘t plan on living anywhere other than germany or possibly england and i‘m not dedicated enough to properly learn any other languages esp if i don‘t have anyone to speak the language with. but i still try my best and i just love language/languages as a whole so yeah i‘m happy & just learning as much as i can dkdjh🥰

(I guess language/linguistics are/is my passion (which sounds sooo lame lmaoooo) and the word passion comes from the latin word pati (i think💀) which means to suffer, and in german passion is called Leidenschaft which basically means suffering too, idk why i‘m telling you this maybe you know it already. but ok dumb fun fact, in german you can make compound words with as many words as you like, and the longest official german word is Rindfleischetikettierungsüberwachungsaufgabenübertragungsgesetz which is a law for the monitoring of labels on beef... this is such a dumb fact but i think about that word like once a day idk why dodjsjsj so... 👁👄👁)

but i‘ll stop boring you with my linguistics talk because truly i don‘t know much about languages but i am interested omg i‘m gonna shut up now.

now water + sharks. (so in non-covid times i always go to croatia with my dad during the summer, and even before ever watching a shark film i was always kind of scared in water.. but after watching so many shark films wldjdj HELP Like you know when you go deeper into the ocean and you can‘t see or feel the ground/floor? anymore.. then i just start imagining sharks. like i can‘t help it i just imagine a shark sneaking up on me or feeling something graze my foot ABD I JUST START FREAKING OUT SSKJSHSJ. idk. anyway kdkdh i do love the ocean/swimming though but the older i get the more i realise how fucking scary the ocean is ( even if we’re gonna disregard sharks)

your brother... what‘s wrong with him? HOw CAN YOU NOT LIKE MUSIC LIKE WHAT THE FAWK

OKAY BUT SAME ABOUT THE ADORE YOU MUSIC VIDEO DLDKDJSJSKSLSLKSKSJSHSH and yeah i have to say harry’s style (styles lol) as a solo artist isn‘t reaaally my cup of tea, and i only like the popular songs from his second album and the first album is only good when i‘m in the right mood (haven‘t actually listened to it in a while though, but kiwi is one of my all time favourites along with only angel but i hate the start, like it takes 40 seconds to actually begin properly). i like mgk and because of him i watched the dirt which is a film about motley crue, and now one of my favourite songs ever is same ol situation and i‘m into rock now lol. +++ justin bieber. I had a justin bieber cardboard cutout thingy😭 i was the biggest Belieber on earth when i was 13-16, but i didn‘t like his last album and tbh he‘s become a bit weird lately, BUT OH MY GOD. i Listened to his new album yesterday and i‘m in LOVE with the song hold on

i really like niall‘s music toooo!!!! And doja cat 😌😌😌😌 And THE VAMPS OG MY GOD. i got to see them live bc they were the opening/support act for little mix and ajdsjskslslsjsjsj. (Also i love concerts, some of the best memories of my life are concerts, i‘ve seen nicki minaj live 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 and justin twice and my heart fills every time i think about how excited i was, it was my first concert ever (16th of September 2016 😌) and i was the happiest person alive seeing justin drew fucking bieber (even if i‘m not tooo sure about justin nowadays)

i have a confession? Idk what hamilton is. I mean I‘ve heard about it and i keep googling it but i‘ve never watched it (is it even a film???? or like a proper musical? also pls tell me you grew up with high school musical. i have a few friends who didn‘t and it makes me so sad 😭😭😭 hsm is the best thing to happen to my childhood , the sooooongs— i still listen to some of them every week or month lool they make me so happy)

(Okay wait i was about to recommend some stormzy songs but you said you‘re not that into rap so i won‘t dksksjl)

What you said about my fic AHSLSLSJB (i wasn‘t sure if you sent an ask about it earlier? idk that might have been someone else, so if it was (and you‘ve read it already) i hope you liked it sksjsj i was...... unsure about it. and i have this reeaaallly long peter fic that i started writing in december and that‘s the only peter thing i currently want to write but also i can‘t because idk how to continue kddjj.) but I’m definitely getting back into writing i have a few blurbs that i want to write so 🥰🥰🥰

Oh and pls as soon as you read this let me know: violet or yellow? (it‘s just a tiny thing for my new theme slsksj)

#lovely anon #BY THE WAY: do not feel bad or apologise for not answering straight away #you can take your time i know it can be exhausting (not bc its anything bad but just because its so much and so long) to answer to my shit #all at once*#so really i don‘t mind if you take a few days or a week or whatever to respond #or if you want to you can respond bit by bit/topic by topic whenever you feel like it #so you don‘t have to concentrate on an ask and my post for like AN HOUR DLSKJ but rather do it in smaller chunks #if you want <3 #btw i‘m always so scared that i‘ll type lonely anon instead of lovely dldjdjsksk so if i ever do that i‘m just being #(cue your autocorrect dldkdj) a dumb bitch #its 1 am now sorry if there are any mistakes (i‘ll stop apologing from now now lol but i still am sorry you have to read my word vomit lmao)#*apologis #*from now on #omg

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in-class-daydreams · 4 years

Text

Parlay | (Kuroo x Reader) | Chapter 6

- Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader (ft. Roommate Kenma)

Word Count: ~1,600

Genres: Fluff, angst if you squint, general buffoonery

CW: Swearing, mention of intoxication, more secondhand embarrassment

Summary: (Y/N), a first-year student attending Tokyo U, is living with her best friend, Kozume Kenma. Little did she know, her life would be turned upside down after being exposed to Kenma’s volleyball teammate and close friend, Kuroo Tetsurou. One wrong move, and the parlay’s stakes only get higher each time.

Chapters: First | Previous | Next

With Oikawa on the court, and with the opposing team so unprepared for him changing the team’s dynamic, the whistle blew soon enough and Tokyo U had secured their victory. The team lined up in front of their school’s spectator section and said their thanks. (Y/N) noticed Kuroo’s eyes roaming the stands as if he were searching for someone. Stating they had a history exam in the morning, Shusei and Tamaki said their goodbyes, though not without Shusei lamenting not getting to meet ‘them hotties’ with (Y/N).

“Kenma! You were so cool today!” The setter caught her in his arms when she nearly tackled him outside the locker room. She continued poking fun at him as he blushed and looked away.

“Hey, hey, hey, who’s this cutie?” the eccentric spiker from before came up to them with the Pretty Number 6 beside him. Kenma sighed at his loudness.

“(Y/N), this is Bokuto Kotarou and Akaashi Keiji.”

(Y/N) bowed, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Both of you played beautifully today.” Akaashi thanked her politely for the compliment while Bokuto struck a power pose.

“Oya, you’re Kenma’s friend? You wanna come get drinks with the team after this?” Bokuto asked. (Y/N) shook her head in embarrassment at the idea of spending time drinking with a group of guys.

“Oh no, I couldn’t intrude on a team event. You guys should celebrate your victory together as a team, not with some spectator,” she protested.

“Please, you wouldn’t be intruding,” Akaashi spoke up. God, even his voice was pretty, “The event isn’t so exclusive. We’d love to have you.” No one can really resist a request from the pretty setter, so (Y/N) reluctantly agreed.

“All right! The cutie is coming to our party!” Bokuto leaned in, “But don’t think I’m reducing you to ‘cutie’, and please don’t hesitate to tell me if any of my nicknames for you make you uncomfortable.”

(Y/N) smiled at his sweet words and told him he’d done nothing to make her feel unsafe. He gave her a grateful smile in return. The sound of squealing reached her ears once more, signifying a certain someone’s appearance.

“Ah, and who might this cutie be?” the newcomer asked teasingly, holding out a hand for her to shake, “It’s been a while since our court was graced by a girl so pretty~”

Playing along, (Y/N) took his proffered hand, which he turned and brought up towards his lips. Iwaizumi’s large hand came into view when it smacked into the Oikawa’s face.

“Stop being greasy!” he scolded.

“But Iwa-chan, it’s just (Y/N)-chan!” Oikawa whined.

“I don’t care. Don’t flirt with girls that way. It’s not classy.”

“He’s right, Tooru. Your charms have gotten a bit cheesy since we last saw each other.”

“Ehhh? (Y/N)-chan, how could you say that?!”

By then, Kuroo was freshly showered, and ready to have a drink and relax. Exiting the locker room, he saw (Y/N) surrounded by his teammates.

“(Y/N)-chan, how could you say that?!” he heard Oikawa cry. (Y/N)-chan… -Chan? -CHAN?? Did she and Crappykawa know each other somehow? He frowned at the way she giggled at the brunette’s antics because… because she was flirting with him right in front of Kenma, of course! But, man, Kenma didn’t look concerned at all. In fact, he looked completely relaxed. Kuroo wondered if there was something he was missing.

“Sksksksk.”

“I’m tiktok famous!”

“Bitch lasagna~”

“WHAT ARE YOUUUUUUUU?!?! AN IDIOT SANDWICH???”

“AN IDIOT CHEF MAKES FOR AN IDIOT SANDWICH!!!!”

“Apple bottom jeans.”

“Boots with the jeans.”

“Shawty got jeans, jeans, jeans--”

“No, it’s ‘SHAWTY IMMA PARTY ‘TIL THE SUNDOWN’”

“Uhmmm nooooo….it’s ‘yo nice skirt’ get it right sksksks.”

Ah, boys. They are an enigma. College guys were just tall 8 year olds with muscles and student debt. Drinks was being hosted by the tall, intimidating, taciturn spiker that introduced himself politely as Ushijima Wakatoshi. The man in question was lounging near the minibar. The apartment was clean and modern, if not somewhat minimalistic.

Bokuto and Nishinoya, the energetic libero she’d met upon arrival, were somehow already shirtless and… having a flexing match, maybe? (Y/N) wasn’t entirely sure. It hadn’t been 20 minutes since they’d arrived, and (Y/N) had the sinking feeling that both of them were doing this completely sober. To the right of the large studio apartment, Kenma, Kuroo, and Oikawa were playing Pario Marty 8.

“Wahh, I wanted to be Peach!”

“Just be Rosalina!”

“But Tetsu-chaaaan, I wanna be the O.G. badass!”

Akaashi walked up to the counter and sat down beside her. He offered her a drink, which she declined, saying Iwaizumi was bringing her one. Settling into his seat, Akaashi followedr her line of sight to the group of idiots yelling at each other across the room.

“They’re always so loud like this. I’m not sure why,” he sighed.

Iwaizumi appeared to (Y/N)’s left and sat down as well. “Probably because they share one tiny brain cell between the two of them. Kenma has his own that he refuses to share.”

(Y/N) thanked him for the drink he handed her. Amused, she asked, “A whole brain cell? How many do those two have, then?” She gestured to the shotgunning challenge Bokuto and Noya were having.

“Zero,” her companions said in unison. The three of them laughed. They made small talk together about their majors, the match they played earlier, the tea house. (Y/N) thoroughly enjoyed the pretty setter’s company as well as getting to spend time with Hajime-kun again. Despite the overall chaos in the room, there was a certain warmth that came from spending time as a group like this.

“So it’s only 12:30 and Kuroo’s overly competitive ass has had EIGHT drinks already, right?” Bokuto had come down from his adrenaline high, humbled by his tragic loss to his much smaller opponent, and the owl-haired boy was content with embarrassing his his close friend, “Bro thinks he’s just tearing it up on the dance floor, but by then he was just kinda swaying a little, but it’s all good because he’s hot (no homo), and this group of college girls is in a booth makin’ eyes at him because, again, even if he’s deliriously drunk, he’s still hot as funk (no homo times two). Eventually, one of the girls struts over - all confidence and long legs and dang - anyway, they flirt a bit, and he gets invited to their table (tfti). I end up sitting at the bar and getting a drink, and when I look over, my boy is sloooowly leaning in, and I’m like, ‘Okay, Tetsu, get it!’ The girl’s friends had left the booth the give them a little privacy, but they’re still kinda watching from afar because, friends, yanno, and the girl has her eyes closed and she is ready for this kiss aaaaand...” Bokuto stopped for dramatic effect. “Homeboy misses her face entirely and faceplants into the table, dead asleep.”

His audience erupts in laughter and the wild-haired boy’s expense. Speak of the devil, as he walks up right as Kenma is starting his own story.

“At lunch today, (Y/N) was taking his order and--”

“DON’T TELL PEOPLE ABOUT THAT!” Kuroo screamed in horror. His teammates laughed even harder. Enjoying catching their scheming teammate off-guard, they pressed harder.

“What did you do, Tetsu-chan? Did you get lost in (Y/N)-chan’s eyes?”

“I bet he did that ugly laugh and scared her off.”

“Maybe he flirted too hard and got slapped.”

They took turns smacking Kuroo on the back, making the boy bury his head in his arms. He felt a smaller, softer hand, not like any of his teammates large, beefy hands, running its fingers through his hair. The tension in his shoulders immediately dissipated until he realized that only a few people had hands that gentle and only one who would actually comfort him right now.

‘(Y/N), I appreciate the thought right now, but if you keep touching me, I’m going to dIE,’ he screamed internally. His teammates ended up dragging (Y/N) away from him to play some sort of game he wasn’t really listening to the name of. As those delicate fingertips faded away from his scalp, he looked up discreetly to find (Y/N) already looking at him.

She gave him a smile, that smile he was beginning to see whenever he closed his eyes. He smiled back, but his eyes dropped to where hers and Oikawa’s hands were intertwined. The (Y/N) Kuroo had been spending time with as of late didn’t seem like that kind of person, but he knew men could be sharks, and he needed to make sure he wasn’t one of them.

For the sake of Bro-Code, and for the sake of Kenma’s relationship, Kuroo decided he had to really try to distance himself from her.

He had to, before he found himself in too deep.

(A/N): Hello everyone!! Things will start to take a turn that will make you wanna slap Kuroo through the screen...but for those of you who are Oikawa stans (I am too), we’re planning an Oikawa x Reader as well :) Once again, thanks for all the support it really means a lot to us! See you soon!

- Admin Kiwi-Chan 030

Friends and Best Friends help you out when you’re drunk, but only best friends expose your ass afterwards. Hope you enjoyed!

- Admin Mango-Chan

Taglist: @joyful-jimin @nekomas-kuroo

#haikyuu kuroo #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa tooru #ushijima wakatoshi #nishinoya yuu #bokuto kotarou #akaashi keiji

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intcrstcllar-blog · 5 years

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let me introduce you to,,,,,,,,my dumbasses !!

I R I S ʻ I Z Z Y ʻ Y A T E S

yes, they are the embodiment of gay

okAY well anyways they belong to a whole clan of rainbow puffles that live in a habitat in the sky

itʻs basically just a big clump of clouds that have solidified enough where these small things can live

theyʻre body weight is lighter than youʻd think tho !! to accommodate the fact that they literally live on vapor

from their big ole cloud in the sky, they canʻt do much. puffles are not allowed to go down to the land walkers unless theyʻve been ʻadoptedʻ -- when someone completes their quest.

izzy has always been fascinated with the land walkers. for the most part, puffles canʻt really see what theyʻre doing down there unless theyʻre monitoring quest. which !! is why izzy is in charge of giving quests to those in search of a puffle.

theyʻre one of the older puffles there and they make sure that each puffle finds the right partner for themselves. they specifically tailor the mission to each puffle so that through their quest, the penguin ( or literally anyone lmao ) learns exactly how to best care for their new puffle.

izzy has taken an extra interest in the land walkers since they watched the sky people descend on them. less and less people have taken up quest since theyʻve arrived, and izzy has taken special care to not offer quests to any of the visitors from above, though telling the difference between everyone has been,,,,,difficult.

so !! in order to help the land walkers and continue the tradition of adopting puffles, izzy has decided they needed to see what all the hustle and bustle was about and has begun searching for someone to take on the quest of their own companionship !!

i think the idea of completely some kind of task in order to meet them is funny af so !! come at me if you wanna try and adopt yourself a rainbow puffle.

they will literally latch on to whoever succeeds congrats !! youʻre stuck with them !!

M A R I E L L A V A N S T R O M E N

yʻall know her !! my soft naiad baby !!

she out here,,,,,,trying to find a hubby,,,,,and get a soul,,,

she comes from a particular river deep within the woods. her family had never been very fond of humans, but mariella has always been fascinated with the idea of a soul.

so she sets off !! leaves the comfort of her river and family to find someone to marry her so that she can get a soul.

still very smol,,,,,,still doesnʻt know how the world works.

becomes particularly helpful in the war against the aliens because,,,,,well,,,,sheʻs a naiad. thereʻs a certain kind of viciousness that comes with that.

sheʻs also mad cause aliens do put a damper on any kind of wedding plan she ever had

looks like a cinnamon role but could actually kill

A L I S T A I R C H O

this sneaky bastard

okay so i loaf them but baSICALLY theyʻre a very old dokkaebi who thrives on chaos

they really only exist in order to cause mischief and be general nuisances of the household

in modern times, alistair decided that they were born with just messing around in peopleʻs houses and fucking around with their brooms so !! they latched onto something thatʻs brought down entire families and drove them out of their homes entirely

they somehow started a casino -- donʻt ask me how i havenʻt thought that hard lmao -- thatʻs basically a front for the seedier gang activity that happens within it

on the casino front, itʻs a high-roller place where people have been know to win big, but also where more than a few people have gambled away more than they can chew.

in the background, alistair has become a bit of a middleman for everyone. if thereʻs information anyone wants, they come to alistair. for a pretty penny, they could do most favors for you. find out some intel, introduce you to some people, help you make someone disappear,

the entire casino kind of just fosters this “turning a blind eye” mentality where most things are allowed to slide as long as they donʻt draw too much attention.

alistair doesnʻt really care about the aliens. they never trust anyone anyways. also,,,,,he works with the mob and gangs, theyʻll probably find themselves some protection

but there ya go !! yʻall have a shady casino that yʻall can hang out in for some seedier stuff

E L I J A H C H U

yʻall know exactly what kind of energy this kid just radiates.

he started a ghost hunting youtube channel with his best friend where they, essentially, just hunt out random ghost.

elijah is absolutely the shane in this scenario. heʻs the one who taunts the room or calls them out to fight because he has absolutely no belief that theyʻre real.

in a fun turn of events, they die

its probably by accident and when theyʻre by themselves because no one actually knows about it, aside from the fact that he misses people more often than normal.

it certainly doesnt change his career, which he continues to work on regardless of the fact that his own existence is direct proof of them.

anyways, heʻs dead but continues to talk shit about ghost regardless of he, himself, being a ghost.

idek how he hid the body but this is the exact kind of chaotic bullshit that shane madej would pull

B E C K E T T F R A N K L I N

scientist boy !!

idek anything about him uhhhhh

i think he focuses more on biology

maybe medical

N E WAYS he just really wants to analyze the aliens.

maybe just to see how the aliens tick ?? maybe to figure out if the slime virus has any kind of cure. or perhaps to see if they could somehow figure out a way to turn the shapeshifting into something that humans can do as well ?? or maybe to find a way to tell the difference between the two.

REGARDLESS of what heʻs trying to achiece, heʻs a big doof

he doesnʻt tend to understand the behavior of others and tends to prefer to stay in his land. heʻs shy, but mostly cause heʻs busy and not because he dislikes people. heʻs just oblivious.

yeah idek iʻll probs add more when iʻm not falling asleep on this

#this is........a wip #( tag later. )#also #yes i did find a vines gif hunt #and yes i will be using them as my mascot

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artificialqueens · 6 years

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Gone Tonight (Trixya) - Pichitinha

A/N: back by unpopular demand, it’s me! This is a bit different from what I usually post but it’s still full of cliches! I hope you like it even if some parts might feel a little unrealistic (it’s fanfiction y'all). You can as usual find it on AO3 and I’m here on @pichitinha

When Trixie is faced with the facts, she does her best to ignore them. They aren’t pleasant, they are the very opposite of everything she wants to be aware of right now, and she really isn’t going to entertain her crappy reality becoming crappier.

She’s never seen so much chaos in the city before. She’d left work maybe an hour later than usual, the last song she was working on taking a little while longer than she expected, and the storm she was met with outside scared her to death. She knew things were bound to be bad, but not to the level she’s seeing now.

It’s been an hour and a half and the rain seems to only be getting worse. Traffic is a mess and public transportation is completely unreliable and she’d decided half an hour ago that waiting would only lead to waiting all night, so she might as well just try to leave and get anywhere else other than the studio she was crammed in with several of her coworkers.

No ubers or taxis or anything want to take her to where she wants to go. Her apartment isn’t that far away, but it’s on the other side of town and apparently the bridge was blocked.

She called all of her friends, asked all of them for shelter and having the ok from all, she said she’d try to go and would let them know where she was headed once she finally got a cab.

The bridge to the other side is also blocked.

Apparently she’s pretty much stuck in a very small radius of the city with no access to anywhere else and she doesn’t know what to do. She’s managed to get a taxi and she asks the driver to just take her to a hotel. He tells her he will if she really wants to, but that he can assure her they won’t have a vacancy - he’s been dropping people off all night.

She lets a bit of rain fall on her face as she talks to him through the car window and she uses that to let a couple of tears fall as she goes back under the roof and takes her phone with shaking hands. She only knows one person that lives in that area. On a normal day it’d be a ten minute drive, today it might be an hour, but it truly is the only place she could even consider going. She takes deep breaths, tries to calm her now fast-beating heart, and presses call. Part of her wishes she won’t answer.

“Trixie?”

Her voice is, as Trixie expected, confused. Surprised, even.

“Katya, hey. How are you?”

“Uh, good. I’m good. How are you?”

It’s awkward and formal and Trixie can feel her gut twisting already. She almost regrets doing this, but the she remembers she has no other option.

“I’m ok. I’m… I’m stuck at the studio and all the bridges are blocked. I can’t make it home.”

“Oh?”

Given her tone, Katya still doesn’t get what Trixie wants. She’ll have to say it.

She takes a deep breath and tries to fish some courage right from deep within.

“All the hotels in the area are booked. I… you’re literally my last option.”

“Oh. Okay.”

She leaves out this horrible laugh, clearly forced and not funny at all, and Trixie realizes how rude she was - especially when she’s asking for such a big favor.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“You did.“ Trixie’s sure there’s a smile on her face, but it’s definitely humorless. "But that’s okay, I get it. Do you wanna crash here?”

She doesn’t. But she also doesn’t have any other option.

“Unless you can’t. Or don’t want to. I’ll figure something out.”

“I thought I was literally your last option?”

Trixie is quiet, can’t find the words, thinks back of the old crappy chairs at the studio and thinks that maybe she could just sleep there.

“I-”

“I’m kidding. Of course you can stay here. I’ll text you the address and I’ll fix the couch for you while you’re on the way.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

Trixie’s heart skips a beat. Before she can even think of responding, though, Katya is ending the call.

“See you in a few, I’ll order chinese.”

And then the tone is dead and Trixie feels like she is a bit dead too.

Katya texts her address like she promised, but Trixie doesn’t even glance at it. She hates herself, but she knows it by heart, has never been able to forget it. The taxi driver she was talking to earlier is still there, and he opens the door when he sees her exit the building. She’s extremely grateful.

She tells him where they’re going, knows all the references and places around and feels a bit sick at how nostalgic it all is to her.

It takes them half an hour, but soon she starts to recognize the neighborhood and knows they’re close. She closes her eyes and tries to calm herself down, feels her hands shaking a bit and her breathing uneven.

It’s just Katya, she tells herself. You’ve slept on her couch several times before. It’ll be fine.

Her phone vibrates with a message from Shea when they are just a couple of streets away.

Shea: you figure out what to do?

Trixie: … yeah

Shea: where are u staying?

Trixie sighs and looks up, sees the last corner before they reach Katya’s street fast approaching.

Shea: … ur staying at katya aren’t u?

Trixie: it’s the only place available

Shea: ok. i’m here if u need anything

Trixie: what could you possibly do all the way there in chicago?

Shea: call and interrupt if anything that shouldn’t happen, happens

Trixie sighs but before she can think of replying, the driver calls her up, “We’re here.”

She pays him and exits quickly, finds shelter at the reception where she tells which apartment she’s visiting. She waits as they call Katya to let her go in, and texts Shea.

Trixie: nothing’s gonna happen

Shea: that’s what you said last time

Trixie lets her fingers hover on the keyboard, types a few letters and then deletes them. She doesn’t know what to say. She really doesn’t want to to relive all of this now.

“You can go up, ma’am,” the receptionist informs her and she makes her way to the elevator, her heart beating out of her chest as she tries to pull herself together.

She hasn’t seen Katya in three months. Before that, she hadn’t seen her in six months.

It has been nine months and she isn’t over it yet.

The door to the elevator opens when she reaches the tenth floor and Trixie has to put on a normal face sooner than she expected, because Katya has the door open and is leaning on the frame, waiting for her.

Trixie doesn’t miss the way a deep breath leaves Katya’s body, as if she was not ready to see her.

Trixie isn’t either.

“Hey,” she says for lack of a better thing, doesn’t know what else she could possibly put into words right now that would be light and normal, and not deep and heavy like she feels.

“Hey,” Katya replies, nods weirdly before moving to the side and giving her passage. “Come in.”

Trixie thanks her quietly, makes her way past her and tries not to let her wet hair drip everywhere.

“I found a few clothes that might fit you, if you want to take a shower? I’ve left some towels in the bathroom.”

“Uh, yeah, a shower would be great, I’m kind of cold.”

Trixie smiles a bit at her offer and immediately feels like she overshared with the cold information. It’s not much - it’s isn’t anything, really, small talk she might do at a bus stop - but she feels like she didn’t have to - shouldn’t - share that. It’s odd.

“Oh, I’ll turn up the heater.” Katya starts moving immediately towards the little table besides the couch where she apparently still keeps all of the remote controls for the house.

“You don’t have to, it’s fine-”

“Trixie, go take your shower. I’ll warm up the house and wait for the food. I- I ordered the same as you always did, I hope that’s ok.”

Trixie can feel the pang in her chest like a knife. She remembers, of course she does, they’d eaten together so very many times before. And that’s what hurts the most, the weight of their history together, the ghost of the laughter and hushed conversations they shared in the past, the heavy silence that’s been sitting on Trixie’s head for the past nine months, an empty space where Katya’s voice used to be.

“Yeah, that’s ok.”

She nods and Katya nods back and they just stand there, quietly, looking at each other from opposites sides of the room without anything to say or do. It’s pathetic, but at least Trixie’s not pathetic alone. It fills her with some twisted guilt the fact that Katya’s discomfort gives her some satisfaction.

“Uh, I’ll go shower now,” she announces eventually, when the tension in the room is too much to bare and she knows Katya will end up breaking and talking about things, which she definitely doesn’t want. She turns around quickly, doesn’t give her time to react, and makes a beeline to the bathroom.

The scent of Katya’s shampoo hits her as soon as she’s inside, closing the door quickly behind her. She closes her eyes for a second, tries to find a breath inside of her so she won’t go insane.

She remembers the first time she slept over at Katya, back when Katya still lived in Boston and she was visiting. They’d been friends for a few months then, met through friends of friends, and she had booked a job in Boston and asked Katya to host her - or maybe she had booked a job in Boston because she wanted to ask Katya to let her stay there, but that doesn’t matter, not anymore. She remembers realizing she forgot her shampoo and using Katya’s every morning before the waffles filled breakfasts, and she remembers getting faint smells of it for a few weeks afterwards every time she’d wear an outfit she’d worn in Boston.

She opens her eyes, urges herself to ground herself in the present. It isn’t much more helpful, this bathroom is one she’s much more familiar with, and the thought makes her turn to the bathtub and search for the red dots that have been there since Katya accidentally dropped nail polish one day and never bothered to clean, always saying she’d do it “next week”. It’s still there.

She turns on the water and while she waits for the cold droplets to become hot, she removes her damp clothes. She avoids the mirror, is weary of how she looks right now - not in appearance, per se, like it or not Katya’s seen her in her worst days, but she fears for her expression. She doesn’t know what her face is telling Katya and she’s scared of finding out.

She stays under the water for longer than she should, urging it to wash away her worries and her heartache. She knew that coming to Katya would be a bad idea, but she didn’t think that she’d feel like that after mere minutes of interaction.

She takes her time drying her hair and body, looks at the loose shirts and shorts that Katya had put on the counter for her until she finds the one that looks to be more comfortable. They smell like the brand of fabric softener that Trixie had convinced her to start using and it’s with that feeling that Trixie realizes that nothing about this night will be easy, even if they eat in silence in separate rooms and pretend the other isn’t there. Memories linger on the walls of Katya’s place, and even if they didn’t, Trixie’s mind has that in check as well. She’ll just have to toughen up and go through this, however the night might unfold.

She exists the bathroom just as Katya is closing the door with the food in hand, and for a brief moment Katya smiles at her and it’s just like it was a year ago, when things were good and easy, not broken like they are now.

She clears her throat and sits down on the table and Katya follows her in silence. It’s weird and mechanic, they’d usually eat on the couch or the living room floor with the TV on on some movie or show that they’d only pay attention to for five minutes before getting distracted. She wants to say something, to cut the silence that seems to hurt her more and more at each passing second, even if she knows that talking will hurt just as much.

“So, how have you been?” Katya ends up asking, her face clearly as uncomfortable as her own. She tries to remind herself that no matter how much she resents what Katya did, she’s the one that put them in this situation tonight. She’s part to blame as well.

“Good. Busy.” She doesn’t really know what else to say, if she’s honest. She has been busy, has been focusing more and more at work every time her free time gives her time to think. And she has been good - well, ish. She’s been as good as she could, since Katya left. But she can’t say that.

Truth is that Trixie knows that what affects Katya about the situation is guilt. She’s not sad about what happened - she can’t be, she’s the one that did it - but she feels bad for Trixie. And Trixie hates that it affects her this much, hates that it’s been months and months and she can’t let it go. She hates that Katya pities her.

“That’s good.” Katya replies after a long silence, like she finally accepts that Trixie won’t say more. “I’m glad you got the job at the studio, I know how much you wanted it.”

She should, Trixie gushed about it to her several times in the past, told her how much she’d love to work there, how that was her dream job and she’d do practically anything to get it. She thinks back to those time and can now see that Katya was always supportive but never enthusiastic. She knows why, now.

“Yeah, I’m glad things started falling into place.”

Katya opens her mouth then, but closes it after a second. She looks back at her food and Trixie realizes that as long as they’re talking, as long as there are words leaving their mouths, she has less time to focus on Katya’s face and wonder how she feels. And that’s good, so she makes an effort.

“What about you?”

Katya considers her, takes her time in chewing her food and swallowing it down with her juice. It looks like she’s trying to decide on what to say, and Trixie worries for a moment about what she will hear.

“I’ve been… I don’t know. Not good. Not busy.”

Trixie nods, feels her mouth go dry. She’s being honest, she’s opening the floor for discussion and Trixie doesn’t want to enter that, she doesn’t want to allow for a scenario in which they could potentially talk things over. Trixie’s not ready to talks things over. She doesn’t know if she ever will be.

“Oh?” Is all she manages to sound out, can’t find it in herself to even be polite and ask her why. Katya responds anyway, though, always much less worried about societal conventions. And Katya probably does want to talk it over. She always does, and that’s one of the issues, isn’t it?

“You know I like to keep busy and all so I thought it’d be fine to take the reigns and be my own boss and book shootings whenever I want. But I’ve been slacking lately. I want to be busy, but- but I haven’t been feeling good and that doesn’t help.”

Trixie understands that. She only started overworking herself a few months ago, because at the beginning she was the complete opposite, calling in sick several times and just overall not giving all of herself.

She knows why she’s like that though, she knows why she was broken and needed time to heal. Maybe she doesn’t get why it hit her so hard, but she gets why she was heartbroken.

She can’t figure out why Katya’s like that though. Not after she went after everything she wanted.

“Do you miss Europe?” Trixie asks before she can stop herself, finds it to be only plausible reason. She’s never understood why Katya came back, if she’s honest.

Katya shrugs, acts much more nonchalant about it than Trixie would’ve expected. “I miss certain aspects of it. But not really, I’m much better here.”

Trixie bites her lips, doesn’t want to speak without thinking again. Why is she back? Why did she leave?

“Have you visited your parents since you came back?” Trixie decides to shift the focus a bit, knows it’ll be safer to talk about her family - and knows specially how important it is to Katya.

Katya smiles lightly at that. “They were actually here two weeks ago, they went back to Boston last saturday.” She stops, considers again, and averts her gaze. “They asked about you.”

Trixie swallows. “How are they?”

“Oh, you know them. Excited about life, worried about the future.”

“That’s you.”

“True.”

They laugh a little and for those small seconds it’s almost like they’re okay. But then the laughter dies down, way quicker than it would have in the good ol’ days, and silence is their only company again.

They’ve both finished eating so Katya gets up and starts clearing the table. Trixie gets up, unsure, starts moving to help.

“No, it’s fine. You can sit down, I’ll be back in a bit.”

Trixie doesn’t want to be rude and leave her to take care of the mess by herself, but at the same time she’d love a few more minutes to herself, to maybe try to pull herself together again. Looking at Katya she thinks that’s exactly what she wants as well.

She agrees and sits down, gets her phone for the first time since entering the house and the only new message she has is from Shea.

Shea: sorry trix, u know i worry. hope everything goes well, pls call me if u need ok?

She sighs and locks her phone again, sets it down on the little coffee table. She might be a proud person but right now, if there was any way Shea could help, she’d ask. Unfortunately, there isn’t.

She looks around the place with attention, tries to place the details she can notice are different. She has on different curtains now, but that’d been way overdue anyway so she’s proud of her for finally buying new ones - even if they are horrific.

Then her eyes fall on her shelves and her heart skips several beats when she sees herself. It’s in the back, sort of hidden by other pictures and paintings, but it’s definitely there, a picture of the two of them that someone - she thinks maybe Jinkx, but she isn’t sure - had snapped on the beach without them noticing. Katya looks happy in that picture - and so does she. She was happy, she remembers it vividly.

She diverts her look, tries to focus on the other pictures that are displayed. All of her friends are there, some of them repeated several times, and even though she knew that Katya hadn’t cut ties with anyone when she left, it stings to see it. She isn’t mad at them for talking to her and she isn’t bitter about it either, what truly gets to her is that for years no one knew Katya better than she did, and now she’s met with the knowledge that Katya’s life went on when they stopped talking and that probably several things happened that all of her friends know and she doesn’t. She feels clueless, excluded, doesn’t know what to do with all the space in her brain that’s still there waiting to be filled with every tiny detail about Katya.

And then she realizes that that probably goes both ways, that maybe her friends talk to Katya about her - she’s fairly certain Katya didn’t have a “no Trixie talk” rule like she did for Katya - but definitely not that much, not as much as she’d tell Katya otherwise. There’s no way Katya knows what she’s been up to, these are a few months of her life that Katya probably will never know about. She can’t pinpoint exactly how she feels about that, but it for sure isn’t a good feeling.

Katya comes back into the room right then when Trixie’s about to have a crisis and the jump scare that she causes is enough to ground Trixie again.

Until she realizes that they’re together again and that things are still - obviously - weird.

She sits down at the other end of the couch and they both look in the direction of the turned-off TV, shoulders straight, posture correct. It’s late enough that they could technically just go to sleep, but Trixie knows she hasn’t slept before midnight in at least five years and Katya is most definitely the same.

“Do you work tomorrow?” Katya asks eventually, probably tired of the quiet - or the noise in her head which is usually ten times louder when no one’s talking - but without looking at Trixie.

“No, I only work Saturdays if we’re running late on a project or something. Do you? Cause I’ll be out really early!”

“No, no, don’t worry.” She looks at her then, sighs audibly and forces herself to relax her back on the couch. “I had a yoga class but that’ll probably be cancelled because of the storm.”

Trixie nods, knows that she’ll for sure wake up to the sight of Katya doing yoga somewhere in the house, knows that she needs the movements to ease her morning anxieties, especially now that she quit smoking.

Unless she picked it up again. The thought leaves Trixie breathless and she doesn’t know why.

“Are you still… hm… an ex-smoker?” She tries to phrase it as best as she can.

Katya smiles a little, seems proud. “Yeah. My last cigarette is still the same one as it was last time.”

Trixie smiles for real for the first time that night, remembers how hard it had been for Katya to quit - remembers how hard Katya had tried for her. “I’m proud of you.”

And maybe those had been the wrong words because Katya averts her gaze immediately and Trixie’s sure they’re watering a bit.

“Thank you,” she manages to say and Trixie gets a bit choked up, too, maybe because of everything and not just how emotional Katya sounds.

“Katya…” she starts but closes her mouth before she can figure out what to say next. She regrets it immediately, knows that she just opened the gate for precisely what she didn’t want and can feel her heart speeding up and her breath getting irregular.

It’s too soon. It’s been nine months, but it’s too soon.

“I always thought that you knew why I did it,” Katya says, like Trixie knew she would. She didn’t know what she was gonna say, but she knew she was gonna say something. Knew she was going to dig into the wound with the alcohol soaked cotton that everyone tells Trixie is necessary but she’s been avoiding at all costs in fear of the pain. “But since I came back, I’m starting to think you don’t.”

Trixie doesn’t want to engage, wants to tell her that she’s tired and they should go to bed, wants to lie down and think about it while she tries not to cry because she is pathetic. And yet, a small part of her yearns to understand what happened, wants to hear Katya explain, wants to see if there’s anyway she has a patch that will fit perfectly into the void she’s left on her heart. And this part is really loud.

“I don’t. I really don’t.” The words leave her mouth choked up and she’s horrified when she realizes that tears are pooling in her eyes and dropping faster than she ever wants anyone to see it happening.

“Oh, Trix,” Katya says and starts moving closer, but Trixie raises her hand, stops her. She’s full of pity on her voice and this is the last thing Trixie wants right now. She feels sick to her stomach, can’t believe it all went downhill so fucking fast, can’t believe she’s crying out her heartbreak to the person who had broken it. “Sorry,” Katya apologizes for trying contact, goes back to the other end of the couch but keeps her figure turned to her side.

Katya gives her time and she takes it. She lets the tears fall, lets her breath get ragged and her chest feel impossibly tight as she tries not to focus on how stupid this is, on how Katya must think she’s ridiculous for acting like this. She buries her head on her hands until her sobs subdue to hiccups and only when her eyes are dry does she take a long breath and looks back at Katya.

Her face is stained with tears.

“God, Trix, you need to understand-”

“I do understand,” she cuts her, feels the weight of her emotional breakdown winning over her need to know. She’s so tired of feeling like this, she just wants to pretend nothing’s going on. “And it’s fine.” It isn’t, really, nothing about this is fine, it hasn’t been since the day she left. But Trixie can’t blame Katya for not loving Trixie like Trixie loved her. Trixie resents her leaving the way she did, but she doesn’t blame her for their fall-out. Trixie always knew that this was a possibility, that letting herself fall for someone she knew so well - and therefore knew how she was - would very likely end in heartbreak. So it isn’t fine, but Trixie doesn’t want Katya blaming herself for not loving her back. Not much could have been done about that, and Trixie knows it. “I get it, I really do, and I don’t blame you. You aren’t the first one on the list. But I need you to understand why for me it’s impossible to ‘be friends’ or whatever it is that you said on Violet’s birthday. I hate to think that our friendship is over but I can’t. Please understand that.”

Katya looks taken aback and Trixie looks away. She knew that eventually they’d talk it out, that they had to, and she also knew that for her that would only lead to reascending something in her chest that she had fought for a long time to diminish. All of their friends kept telling her she needed closure, that she really should talk to Katya, that it would be good for her. Oftentimes they’d act like they knew something she didn’t, but she’d made it clear that talking about Katya was not something she wanted so they respected it. Now she’s there, following their advice, and it’s like the hole in her chest is brand new. She fears the prospect of yet another nine months tirelessly working to close it. She doesn’t know if she has it in her.

“Trix…” Katya’s voice is quiet, earnest. She moves closer and this time doesn’t stop when Trixie flinches, even if she stills keeps a couple of inches in between them. She seems to not know what to say and Trixie can’t blame her. She’s in an awkward position, Trixie wouldn’t know what to do if she was her either. So she takes this opportunity, embraces the fact that she’s already cried and said more than she thought she would, and goes on. Maybe it’ll be easier if she gets everything out.

“You were my best friend.” It’s a quiet statement and it reverberates in the room, followed almost comically by a loud thunder. She doesn’t know exactly why she’s saying it, what she’s trying to convey here - because Katya knows that. She nods, even, looks at Trixie as if she’s waiting for her to say more. Trixie feels there’s more she needs to let her know, but she has no idea what. Has no idea how. “It’s been hard without you. As a friend, I mean. No one else in the world knew- knows me the way you do. Even after all these months, unless you suffered memory loss, no one else even comes closer. You know everything about me.”

“I do,” Katya states before Trixie has time to continue. “I haven’t forgotten anything, how could I? And the same goes to you.” She chuckles a bit, even if it doesn’t sound funny at all. “Who else would it be?”

“You knew me,” Trixie accuses, then, even if she doesn’t want to. She doesn’t want to be the bitter ex, she wants none of this to ever have happened at all. But it’s too late now, it did and the words are out. She’s constantly stuck between completely understanding Katya’s actions and feeling bitter and betrayed by them. That’s why she didn’t want to talk - she knew she’d fuck it, and she also doesn’t know what she feels.

But Katya is nothing if not understanding - and again, she knows Trixie. She doesn’t seem surprised at all at her words. “I did. And I fucked up.”

Trixie bites her lips, feels her eyes tearing up again. This is not what she wants. Katya’s back to the guilt and pity and that’s not what she wants. But what does she want? She doesn’t know either. She wants this dull pain in her chest to finally subside, she wants to feel free of this and start over, she wants to be herself again, but she has absolutely no idea of what to do to get there.

She wants to not have fallen in love with her best friend. She wants to never have acted upon her feelings. She wants to never have loved her so deeply.

But she can’t change that now, can she?

“I don’t want you to feel bad.” This much is true. Through all the pain and the hardships there are few things she wants more in life than for Katya to be happy. However that might come to be.

Katya snorts, shifts a little and her thigh scrapes very lightly against Trixie’s. She shivers, tries to push past that, but it’s the first physical contact they’ve had in nine months. When Katya had gotten back and they met at Violet’s party Trixie had simply nodded at her, too frozen on her spot to even shake hands. She feels the ghost of her skin lingering, wishes something so minor wouldn’t affect her so much. “How can I not, Trixie? I know I did it all wrong, I know I hurt you and I think about it everyday. I hope you know this already, but I truly am sorry.”

Trixie gets up then, needs air and knows she can’t go out in the balcony because it’s still raining heavily, she can hear it against the glass. She takes a deep breath, tries to remember the breathing techniques that Katya taught her all those years ago and then when she remembers Katya touching her back and stomach to guide her, she tries to forget it. “Uh, I need some water.”

“Of course.” Katya starts getting up, but Trixie denies quickly.

“I can get it. I-I’ll be right back.”

She moves quickly to the kitchen, feels like the walls are closing in on her and hopes against hope that she won’t have a panic attack. She’s never had one before but she knows the signs. She refuses to let it happen over a heartbreak. A heartbreak that happened nine months ago.

She finds the glass and fills it with water mechanically, barely thinks about what she’s doing and where she’s moving, and when the familiarity of it dawns on her she closes her eyes forcefully again. There really is nowhere safe in this place.

She leans against the sink, sips the water slowly, tries to even her breathing with each gulp of water she takes. She thinks about the time when the rain stops and she gets to leave, thinks about what will happen then. Will this be it? Will she never talk to Katya again? The thought is like a double-edged sword because she doesn’t know what answer to that is more frightening.

Trixie knows, of course, why this is harder than it’s ever been before. Why this time she can feel the pieces that her heart broke into, why it’s hurting and hurting and it never seems to heal. She’s thought about it endlessly over the course of these months, tried not to but found it impossible.

She’s never dated a friend before. She’s always met someone through someone or at a bar or online. She always met them with the intent of dating.

Katya had been her best friend for seven years when she first noticed how she felt. By that point, well, she already loved Katya more than almost everyone else in her life. Maybe platonically or maybe not, but she did. Katya was already someone she could never see herself without.

She should’ve listened to Shea, and Kim, and Pearl and pretty much everyone else when they told her that it was a bad idea. It really had been.

“Hey,” Katya’s voice scares her enough to get her to drop the glass on the floor, tiny pieces of glass flying around and one of them landing on her foot, making a tiny cut. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing,” Trixie dismisses. She can barely feel it, leans down with Katya to try to get the bigger chunks. “Sorry for breaking your glass.”

“It was my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Yes, it was.”

Trixie feels they aren’t talking about the glass anymore.

They put all the pieces they managed to gather away and turn to the sink to wash their hands, side by side. It’s silent as the water runs and they take turns slowly.

Katya clears her throat. “You said… you said I wasn’t the first one on the list. What does that mean?”

Trixie dries her hands, can’t look at Katya as the words she feels pathetically weightning her down leave her mouth. “You weren’t the first girlfriend who didn’t love me back.”

Katya freezes so fast, so true-to-the-word full freeze, that Trixie glances back at her for a second, worried. She’s staring at Trixie, looks heartbroken and at a complete loss for words. She blinks rapidly, eyes searching through Trixie’s entire face for seconds on end.

“You’ve spent the last nine months thinking I left because I didn’t love you?”

Now it’s Trixie who feels at a loss, maybe more heartbroken than before. Katya asked that as if she was wrong. Her heart is beating at a mile per minute.

“I’ve seen you jump from relationship to relationship, three months each, for years. I’ve stood there as you said time and time again that you don’t believe in love and forever. I knew where that was going, Katya, I don’t blame you for that.”

Katya fully touches her then, envelops her upper arm with her hand. She isn’t gripping at it, it’s a light touch that Trixie could easily free herself of. But she doesn’t, stares at the hand and back at Katya’s face several times, alarmed by her sudden movement and her expression. “God, Trixie, I did everything wrong.”

“Kat-”

“Let me speak, please. You don’t have to, but I’d love if you’d listen. Just this once.”

Trixie nods then, Katya’s hand still on her arm, her bony fingers digging lightly into her flesh. Katya looks lost, a bit, uncertain of what to say, and Trixie’s worried that whatever it is will just break her further.

“I left for you. I wanted to travel and to photograph the world and to live freely and you wanted a nice job and a family. You were fast-tracking towards your dream job, you were house-hunting hand-in-hand with me. I wanted to love you in Rome, and Paris, and Lisbon and you wanted someone that wanted to settle down. I wasn’t ready.”

“I wanted you,” Trixie barks back, can’t stop herself. Katya’s words are buzzing in her ears, but she won’t let her throw that last sentence like that. Trixie didn’t want someone, Trixie wanted her. She’d made that perfectly clear.

“And I wanted you.” Katya’s eyes are honest and Trixie knows she isn’t lying because she knows her. There’s a lump in her throat and her skin burns where Katya’s touching her. But she still hurts.

“You left.”

“I left.”

They stand in silence, eyes interlocked, both clearly fighting back tears.

“I couldn’t give you what you wanted, Trixie. The easiest way was to go.”

“That’s exactly what you said back then, we want different things. You didn’t know what I wanted. We dated for five months, Katya, I never asked you for forever.”

Katya denies with her head, looks up when a tear forms up anyway. “That isn’t it, Trixie. I wanted forever with you, too, I just wanted it in a different way.”

“You never asked me. You never gave me the choice.”

“I know.”

Silence falls again, and this time it stretches. They don’t move, don’t look at each other, do nothing but take deep breaths and pretend - to the other, to themselves - that they aren’t crying.

“You didn’t have to leave. We didn’t have to break up, I would have understood that you wanted to travel, we could’ve been long-distance, I might even have gone with you for a few weeks or visited or- I don’t know.” She runs her hands through her hair, exhaustion screaming inside all of her limbs. “It’s like… it’s like you didn’t fight for me.”

“I was scared. You know me, you know I panic and let anxiety have the best of me. But you know me, so tell me you can’t see how much I regret it, how much I regret every week that passed that I didn’t try to make things right.”

Trixie looks her in the eye, and she can feel how Katya is urging every bone in her body to remain still and stare back, truthfully. It’s quiet and it’s heavy and the tension is clear.

And then there’s a thunder and the place goes dark.

“Shit.”

Katya squeezes her grip on Trixie’s arm, grounds them both together in the pitch dark of the place as it appears the whole neighborhood has powered out.

It’s in the quiet of the darkness that Katya finds the courage Trixie knows she’s been searching for.

“I don’t know if it changes anything. And I don’t know if it’s good or if it’s bad or how it’ll make you feel or even if I have a right to say it. But I still love you. I love you just as much, maybe even a bit more, than I did the day I left.”

Trixie doesn’t even try to hold the words in, knows she wouldn’t be able to. “I love you, too.”

She feels Katya getting closer, can feel her warm breath on her face and as her eyes are slowly adjusting to the darkness, she thinks she sees the contour of Katya’s face.

“I know what I did was wrong. I thought about coming back several times, but I thought you’d be better off without me. I shouldn’t have left the way I did, but I swear I thought that was the best for you. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about you, Trixie. That’s why I came back.” She pauses. One second, then two then three. “I thought I knew what I wanted, but in reality everything falls second to you.”

Trixie doesn’t say anything, doesn’t know if there’s anything she could say. This is so, so much for her brain to handle. She feels exhausted from the night already, feels like all the emotions she could’ve possibly had overloaded her. But she stays still, feels Katya’s warmth in front of her, her other hand now ghosting its fingertips on her arm. She loves her. Nothing’s gonna change that and she knows it. Her words echo in her brain.

“Can I kiss you?”

Katya asks softly, doesn’t move an inch as she waits for an answer. Trixie knows that if she said no Katya would immediately back off and give her space. More than anything, first and foremost, Katya is a genuinely good person. That’s one of the reasons Trixie loves her so much.

That’s also one of the reasons that instead of replying, she’s the one that closes the gap. Her hands find Katya’s face and pull her in slowly, their lips meeting tentatively, calmly. Trixie can feel warmth spreading through her entire body, like spring has just come and blossomed all of the flowers. The familiar feeling sets on her chest, the smoothness of Katya’s lips are like coming home. She feels all the cliches and the songs from romance movies circling inside her, she feels like this is what she’s been waiting for the past nine months.

In a way, it is.

They kiss slowly, innocently, neither moves their hands from where they are currently, but Trixie pulls her in a little more and puts her right foot back at that, trying to ground herself better.

And she manages to step on a remaining tiny shard of glass. “Ow.”

They break apart, breathing not heavy but uneven, and search for each other’s faces that they still can’t see in the dark.

“You ok?”

Trixie nods before she realizes she won’t see. “Yeah, it’s nothing.”

They stay there, locked in an embrace, until the sound of the rain on the window is louder than their breathing. The clock on the wall is ticking and Trixie revels at how in sync it is with her heart.

“We should go to bed,” Katya suggests, and Trixie gulps to herself. Maybe Katya hears her or maybe she just knows, but she adds, “We can both go to my bed and just sleep. Or I can go to the couch or you can to the couch. Whatever makes you comfortable. I just think we should rest.”

Trixie agrees and they start moving through the dark apartment, their hands clasped so they won’t lose each other and also so they won’t lose each other. Katya hits her knee on the bed and hisses, but then she sits down on it and pulls Trixie to sit besides her. They move in the dark, the moonlight filtering in through this window making it a little bit easier to see, and soon they’re settled on the pillows, Trixie on the same side she always slept whenever she and Katya shared a bed both before and after getting together.

Katya finds her hand again, squeezes it, and Trixie looks at her. She waits for a few seconds, hopes the moon will allow her to at least see Katy’s eyes, and it does. They’re shining.

“Give me another chance?” Katya whispers into the night, the words flowing over to Trixie’s already calm, sleepy brain.

“Yeah,” she replies softly, squeezes Katya’s hand back before closing her eyes. “We can talk more in the morning - if there are waffles.”

She falls asleep immediately, doesn’t know if Katya replied or not.

But in the morning she finds Katya doing yoga - and there are waffles.

#trixya #pichitinha #angst #hopeful ending #katya zamolodchikova #trixie mattel #rpdr fanfiction #lesbian au

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sydd-acidity · 6 years

Text

H.S: Behind the Kiwi

Today was the day. It was finally here, the day to film Harry’s music video for Kiwi. He was a mess with nerves and excitement, getting him to bed with you last night was a feat in and of itself, you still weren’t convinced that he even went to sleep. But finally it as here and he was running around everywhere attempting to make sure that his vision was coming together. He left you with a kiss on the head, a slap to the ass, and his half full cup of coffee. You looked around finding a safe place to go sit by the wall, with a perfect view of the main set, a large gymnasium.

People were running around carrying bags of expensive tiny suits, some had cases for make up, others with camera parts and lighting fixtures. Taking a sip of Harry’s coffee you pull a folding chair over to your large Guess purse, a gift from him for christmas, and got comfy. Pulling out your laptop and headphones you settled in. This wasn’t the first video set you’ve sat in on and you knew there was gonna be a long time before Harry would be over to find you with a snack, he always needed to get everything done and perfect just before the cameras rolled then he would take a few minutes to himself before shooting begins. Signing into the hotspot of your phone you got to work, now was probably the best time to get started on the lab report you had due next week for Microbiology.

You weren’t sure how much time passed but your ass was numb, your cup was empty and you fingers hurt. Sitting up you stretched and looked around, it seemed that the initiate chaos had passed. The gymnasium set seemed to be completed now in the center was a mountain of pastries and cakes. There was a group of people standing over in a corner talking rather loudly about whatever they were huddled around.

Closing your laptop you got up in search of a bathroom, looking around you found a hallway that seemed pretty promising, skirting your way around a few people and boxes you found restroom. While in there you went ahead and took a minute to fix your pony tail and clean up the day old makeup under your eyes, wiping some water on your cheeks you turned and leaned against the sink pulling your phone from your pocket. A couple texts from your mom, some tags on facebook but nothing from Harry who you haven’t seen in...4 hours. Sighing you push off of the sink and walk to the door reaching for the handle there’s a loud, familiar, knock on the door.

“Baby? Are you in there?”

You smile and open the door, there he stood tall and handsome wearing a flashy blue Gucci suit. You stepped out of the bathroom, “Hey Love, are things going well?”

That’s when you noticed his eyes, they weren’t as green as this morning they were darkened even with his stage makeup you could see his frown lines. Reaching up you tugged at the back of his hair as you pulled him into a hug, “Bubba whats wrong?”

You feel him pull you tight to his chest his arms coming behind your back to hold you between the shoulder blades, fully pressed to him. With his nose at your neck he let out a sigh, one of stress and some other emotions you couldn’t pin point yet. Rubbing his back soothingly you twist the little curls at the nape of his neck, “Bubba?”

He doesn’t pull back, if anything he pulls you closer and now with your back against the hallways wall you coax him into talking to you. You get groans and whines at first but after a few more soft kisses and pets he’s resting his head on your shoulder, hunched over to fit with your smaller frame. “They don’t have the right pies, the kids don’t wanna wait, and the makeup artist didn’t listen when I said that foundation makes me itchy.”

You pout, “Oh baby,” you pull him away from you to get a good look at his face, “everything works out in the end. You tell me that all of the time.” He avoids your eyes for a few seconds before you hold his cheeks and make him face you, “Hey, no. You don’t get to act like this isn’t going to be the greatest music video of 2017. You don’t get to beat yourself up because some kids are excited about cupcakes, they are just as excited as you baby.”

His shoulders slump with a visible sign of relief, like your words took away some of his tension, “I just...I’ve thought about this video for months and I told the crew. I want to surprise everyone, my fans and family...and you. I want you to love it.”

Going you onto your tiptoes you give him a short kiss with a promise, “I love you, I love this song and I will love this video. Never doubt that baby, never doubt yourself.”

Harry steps away and takes your face in his hands, cold rings against your cheeks, “I love you. Thank you. Now, what have you been up to? I told Rachel that you’d love to help her with the…” He looks in your eyes and slowly frowns, “Did anyone come to talk to you while I was busy?”

You give him a smile, a weak one, “No, no but I was doing homework with headphones in so I probably didn’t hear them.”

His eyes change, now a little more angry, “Rachel didn’t get you?”

You glance down and reach up to hold the back of his hands where they are on your cheeks, “Baby...I was fine.”

He clearly shows that it was not okay. He gave instructions to someone and they blatantly did not respond. He pulls away, “Well let’s go fix this because I had a surprise for you, I had...something set up for you. I didn’t bring you with me today to just sit alone in a corner.” He takes you down the hallway and around a corner from the set where your things remained and into a smaller room that was full of commotion and noise. Knocking on the door that was partially opened he leans in, “Hello?”

Stepping in beside him you find a room that could basically be considered Heaven. There were short fences around the edges, a women in the middle with a table, and there were at least a dozen puppies. You gasped and stepped closer to Harry trying to find control to not pet all of their cute faces and floppy ears. His arm went behind you to tuck you in a bit as he looked at the women in the room awaiting an answer to his silent question. He was not your cuddly sweet boyfriend at the moment, no he was a hardworking man who has found that one his associate, someone he trusted to help him has not done a part of their job. The issue being a little more exacerbated because the job that was asked did pertain to you.

The women, who you assume would be Rachel, turns, “...I didn’t want to be bothered when I’m trying to work.”

There was a pang in your chest, her implying that you were nothing more than a distraction, that you could never be of use to her. Which maybe you were, this wasn’t your music video and this wasn’t your career so what help could you be. Harry felt you tense and leaned down to your ear, with a kiss, “Go pet them love, I’ll be back shortly. Rachel...come with me please, let’s grab some coffee.”

You were alone with the puppies looking around you got on your knees by the cage and they all swarmed towards you tongue flopping and nail clicking, “Oh, hello hello babies! Hi, how are you today?” Reaching in you try to pet as many little heads as you can, there were plenty licks in return for your eforts. “Big day huh? Gonna get so many treats soon, gonna be famous you know that? You’re gonna be a star huh?” You grin and tie your hair up before getting closer, “You guys are the best, I’ve been sitting just on the other side of this wall all day and I didn’t know you were there!”

There was no telling how long had passed before there were footsteps into the room, not Harry, “Hey, uh I didn’t mean anything by not coming to get you I was just so stressed and didn’t wanna be around anyone but if you want I could actually use you. If you don’t mind?”

It was a shit apology, if you could pretend it was one but you did really love the puppies and if you could spend any amount of time with them you wanted to. “I would really appreciate it if I could help you out,” you replied just as Harry stuck his head around the corner.

Rachel nodded looking less confident and off Standish than earlier, “Um great, could you grab that brush? Lola needs brushed and trimmed.”

This is how it went for the next 3 hours, you by Rachel’s side helping with the dogs. You ended up being useful during the shoot, your promise of pets got the puppies to go where the director and Harry needed them to. By the end of the shoot there was food everywhere and you were exhilarated but maybe it was just all the coffee you drank. Around 11 pm Harry finally showed up from the showers looking cozy in sweats and a Hoodie that said his name on it his hair tucked under a beanie you bought him on it first christmas together. You stood up from the chair you found and grinned. He smiled and came up to u, “Doing good? Don’t hate me do ya?”

You shook your head and grabbed your bag before tucking yourself under his arm. You knew who you were with, there was no mistake that harry was a busy powerful man but you would gladly sit anywhere to wait for Harry, the man you loved because no matter the situation Harry would alway for the same for you. Sure you didn’t get to go spend lots of time alone, there were no quiet dates but here was alway you and Harry regardless of where you were. You had each other’s eyes, hearts and lives.

#Harry styles writing #harrystyles #hs #short story #angst #harry styles angst #Syddacidity

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miss-writes-a-lot · 4 years

Text

Persona 6 Chapter 14: Not All Princes Become Kings

The smoke cleared from the grounds. There, standing tall and proud was Isas, towering over his defeated shadow. He smirked in satisfaction. It's over now...we're safe.

"ISAS!"

Isas whipped around to see Jumin, a side of his face covered in dried blood, dizzly stumbling over to him, supported by a pillar.

Isas smiled, letting out a light laugh before running towards him, lunging at him into a tight hug. "Welcome back, man..." Jumin whispered weakly.

"It is- it's good to be back..." Isas replied.

Jumin smiled, but stopped once the ground beneath them began to shake vigorously and the castle began to collapse. Isas pushed away from Jumin, panic flooding his face.

"You have to leave! NOW!" Isas shouted.

"BUT WHAT ABOUT YOU?!" Jumin yelled back.

"BUT-" Isas went up to him and hugged him once more, heavier debris falling around them. "I'll see you on the other side....now go!" He commanded.

Jumin gripped his shirt before nodding and letting go. He gave Isas one last smile before Kimi yelled for him to run.

"HURRY! WE DON'T HAVE MUCH TIME!" Suki cried. Jumin nodded and ran away from the chaos. Isas smiled and went the other way, for he knew his own way out.

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The trio barely escaped with their lives as they all shot out of the waterfall and into the water itself. The girls surfaced, gasping for air and swam to the shore, falling face down once they got to the grass, still gasping for air.

"Oh god...never...AGAIN!" Kimi gasped.

"Yes," Suki glupped for air, "I-I can agree with that..."

The girls were about to take a breath of relief, when they remembered something. "JUMIN!!!'

They quickly stood and scanned the area, only to find him lying face up just a few feet where they themselves had landed. They raced over and fell beside him. He sat up once they fell next to him and wrapped him in a tight hug. "THANK GODS YOU'RE OKAY!" Suki exclaimed, beginning to cry.

Kimi broke away from the hug, tears spilling from her eyes, and punched Jumin hard in the chest. "OW!! WHAT THE HELL?!"

"IF YOU EVER DIE ON ME AGAIN, I SWEAR I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!" Kimi sobbed.

"Okay! Okay! I won't die....I'm..I'm sorry..."

Kimi sniffed, getting rid of any remaining tears in her eyes and on her face. Jumin smiled at her, until something clicked in his head. He hastily took out his phone and checked the time. In only four seconds it became midnight. "Something wrong?" Suki asked.

Jumin turned to look at them both, showing them his phone. "Just turned midnight...March ninth..."

They both let out a quiet gasp. "Does that mean...?"

A big smile crossed Jumin's face. "We did it. We won..." The girls faces lit up. The trio suddenly began laughing, pulling each other into one tight hug, as tears began to fall.

They did it. They won! They saved Isas!

Then unexpectedly, a light shined through the trees. "JUMIN! JUMIN!" Someone called. It was Jumin's father, holding a flashlight and searching for him.

"Dad?" Jumin questioned. He broke away from the hug and stood up just as his father had stepped into the clearing. Relief crossed his face as he ran to the young brunette and embrace him in a protective hug. "U-uh, dad-?"

"Don't you EVER scare me like that again! I thought you were dead!" Yu cried, gripping onto his son's hoodie. Jumin was a bit stunned by the sudden burst of emotions, but they were truly justified. Jumin sighed and rested his chin on his father's shoulder. "I'm sorry I broke our promise dad..." Jumin said.

Yu held him a little tighter before relaxing, rubbing Jumin's back. "It's okay...I know you didn't mean to...it's kinda hard to promise not to die."

Jumin chuckled a bit. He broke away from the hug to face his father with a smile. Yu smiled back, when he noticed something. He brushed back Jumin's bangs to find a large scar going across the right side of his head. Grey's gonna kill us...

"Does it hurt?" He asked. Jumin shook his head. "J-just the inside of my head...and my entire body."

Yu nodded. "We'll get you fixed up in the morning. You just need rest for now..." Jumin tiredly nodded as he rested his chin on his father's shoulder.

"C'mon, you at least have to be awake for the walk to the car. I'm too old to be carrying you like a baby!" Yu said. Jumin sighed. "Fiiinneee."

Yu chuckled and patted his son's head. He looked up at the girls. "You two wanna ride back home?" Yu asked.

"If it's not too much to ask...?" Suki asked. Yu shook his head. "Not at all. Come on."

Suki nodded and the girls followed them out.

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Suki was dropped off a little before 1am. She tiredly dragged herself to the front door as Yu's car left back to Jumin's house. She unlocked the front door, quietly stumbling into the hallway to find to her surprise, Akiniko, dead asleep on the couch. Suki smiled. He waited for me...He gave up going to sleep for...me.

Her smile than faltered. But why for me...?

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March 9th, 20XX

Sunday

Noon/Midday

The trio had decided to sleep in for awhile before going to visit Isas. When they woke up, their bodies felt so sore they could hardly stand straight, but they still managed to drag themselves to the hospital.

Suki found Kimi and Jumin in the waiting room. Jumin had his hood up and was on his phone, while Kimi was falling asleep. "Ugghhhh..." Kimi groaned.

"You slept for about twelve and a half hours, how are you still tired rather than in pain?" Jumin asked. "Pain over powered me...I hardly slept a wink last night." She moaned in response.

"Really? My mom just gave me a bunch of pain killers and I was out."

"Your mom's weird."

"It runs in the family." Suki walked over to them, a soft smile to her face. "Oh, hey Suki!" Jumin greeted with a smile.

"Hey Suk.." Kimi groaned again.

"How's Isas? Can we see him?" She asked.

Jumin nodded. "We're waiting for them to give us the okay."

"Better be soon. Kimi doesn't seem like she can last much longer." Suki said jokingly.

Jumin chuckled quietly, trying not to make too much noise so he wouldn't draw attention to himself. Just then, a nurse with a clipboard walked up to the trio.

"Are you friends of Isas Chikako?" She asked.

Jumin bit his lip and nodded. "You can see him now. He just woke up." Without another word, the trio rushed to Isas' hospital room. Kimi threw open the door, a big grin plastered on her face. "We're-?!" Kimi started but stopped once they noticed something. Isas was fine. He was sitting up in bed, looking as healthy as could be, but it was his eyes that were different. While his right eye was still its dark brown, his left...was clouded.

He was blind in one eye.

Isas smiled nervously. "W-well? What do you think?" They were all silent. Isas sighed and looked down at his hands. Jumin stepped forward and sat at the edge of his bed, looking at the floor as he held one of his hands. Isas smiled. The girls walked in. Kimi leaned up against the wall as Suki stood in front of the bed.

"So, how are you feeling? Is everything okay? Y-you know, besides the...y'know..." Kimi asked. "Surprisingly, yes. Other than my poor vision, I am completely fine! It almost gave the doctor a heart attack of how fast I recovered." Isas replied, chuckling.

"Seriously?!" Jumin asked, a bit startled.

Isas nodded. "They said I could leave as soon as my grandmother comes with my younger sister to sign my release forms. Oh! And look. I found this by my bedside table."

He opened the drawer and pulled out an onyx black framed pair of glasses and placed them on. "What do you think?" Jumin tilted his head and smiled. "They...they suit you. Really great."

Isas smiled, turning his attention to Suki. "Ichika-San. I have to thank you. I mean, I thank you all but-you helped Jumin. You kept him alive! And...you saved me as well."

Suki bowed. "Of course, Isas. But I must ask you something. Your shadow...your entire castle..it was constantly bringing up 'perfecton.' Do you happened to know anything about that? Or, should I ask, do you know what I'm talking about?"

Isas looked down at the bed. "I...I have an understanding of it, yes....I just didn't think it was true." He gripped the sheets tightly, gritted his teeth. "I...I suppose I have some explaining to do, don't I?" Isas chuckled sadly.

Isas...?"

Isas sighed before speaking again. "For the longest time, I was taught to be the symbol of absolute perfection. Being that my parents are highly respected in their line of business. Because of this, they are hardly ever around now. But...when I was younger, they beat it over my head day in and day out. Literally and metaphorically...I had to be the perfect, obedient child. I was to study on my free time, I was to learn how to run a business and begin a company. I was to do some many things that no normal child would do and-and I hated it! And it was all to rule an industry that I have never wanted! To cheat people out of their money for personal gain? That's not at all what I wanted!"

Isas visibly began to shake with anger as he tightened his grip on the sheets. "When I attended school, everyone envied me. I hated it. I had no friends because everyone thought I was "better than them." I was picked on but because of my parents status they never laid a hand on me but...it is possibly a sick thing to want, but I wanted them to pick on me. I wanted to be like...like everyone else..."

Isas turned his head to face Jumin. "When I met you, you showed me a whole world. Sure, most of it was-actually all of it was in closed in your bedroom and other closed spaces-but I was the world of someone I wanted to be. A son with parents who absolutely love him and shower him with their constant support. A boy who could play with his best friend in the comfort of his really messy room and gorge on junk food for hours! I...I envied you. I was jealous-I will admit that. But I never hated you! I-I do not even understand why my shadow-or my subconscious would make you believe otherwise! I care about you, Jumin. You make me feel normal..."

Jumin did not face Isas. For a minute, he just looked down at the floor saying nothing. "T-that is why I never said anything...I never told you what I felt because...I did not want to ruin you. I did not want our good times to end. I did not want our moments of freedom...to be dampened by me..." Isas concluded, tears in his eyes.

All eyes were on Jumin as he continued to look down. Everyone anxiously awaited his answer to it all.

"J-Jumin?"

"I-I...you shouldn't-ugh! You shouldn't be jealous of me Damnit!" Jumin blurted out. He stood up and began pacing back and forth around the room. "You shouldn't be jealous of me! I mean, look at me! Look at my fucking track record! I hardly ever went to school, spent most of time in my room, and I freak the fuck out everytime I'm alone or around more than a few people!" He exclaimed.

"But look at you now! You're in a hospital! You hate hospitals!"

"I'm here because I care about you! FUCK the hospital!"

"See! You are getting better!"

"Yeah because of you! I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you!"

"Well I wouldn't be alive if to wasn't for you!"

"I-I LOVE YOU MAN!" Jumin finally cried.

"I-I LOVE YOU TOO!" Isas cried back. Now they were both in tears. Jumin lunged forward and hugged Isas tightly.

"Jesus, this shit just got-?! Suki?! You too?!" Suki tirned to Kimi, tears flooding out her eyes. "I-it's just so sweet!"

Then Kimi started crying. "Damnit, now you got me going!" Now, all four of them began crying their eyes out. They all wrapped each other in a tight group hug, almost sobbing before they heard the door open. "Isas...?" A young voice broke in.

They all rose their heads to see a young girl with black hair, light brown eyes, and a blue uniform.

Isas' face lit up. "CHIYOKO!" The little girl ran, jumped on the bed, and wrapped her arms around Isas' neck.

Isas chuckled and looked up at the others. "Chiyoko, these are my friends. Jumin, Kimi, and Suki! Everyone, this is my younger sister, Chiyoko."

Chiyoko greeted them with a big smile. "Hi everyone!"

They all waved to her.

Chiyoko smiled and continued to hugged Isas' neck. "You get to come with us! You get to come home!"

Isas chuckled nervously. "Y-yes...but first...I need some time to myself. J-just for a bit." "Oh..okay! We can have your welcome party tomorrow!" Isas chuckled. "That would be lovely. Thank you..." A doctor entered the room with Isas' grandmother.

"Are you ready to go, Isas?" His grandmother asked. Isas nodded. "Yes....yes I am.

He looked up at Jumin and smiled warmly at him.

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Isas was escorted out with the others following behind him. Jumin was a bit behind for he was calling his parents to bring them the news. The minute he hung up, he ran to catch up with the others when he bumped into another teen boy dressed in all black.

"Oh, s-sorry! I-I-" Jumin stammered before looking up, his eyes widening in realization, and so did the other boy.

"O-oh...hey..."

The boy said nothing. He simply growled and walked away.

"Yeah...I knew you would do that..."

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Isas sat alone on a bench in the park he first met Jumin. He smiled at the serenity.

"Hey..."

Isas looked up and saw Jumin. He smiled warmly at him. "Hello."

Jumin smiled and sat down next to him. For a while, they sat there saying nothing, doing nothing. Just gazing. Then, Isas spoke, a solemn expression on his face. "I-I'm sorry Jumin..."

"Sorry for what?"

"For everything...for lying to you, for keeping things from you, for almost killing you...I-I...You're my best friend, my confidant, my family...And I-"

Jumin suddenly hugged Isas, shutting him up. "Not all princes become kings...and sometimes...that's a good thing."

Isas smiled as the tears ran down his face. "I-I suppose you are right Jumin...I suppose you are right..."

(A/N: Finally! After a year or so I finally posted Chapter 14! I'm so sorry for anyone who was actually interested in the series who lost it because I had not uploaded it. So sorry. I just wanted to thank @goodbyeonemoretime for their kind words when I was really struggling with my passion for writing. I am so sorry and I hope you are doing well. Go check out my friend @sayuri-kitsune-creativewriting and her persona 6 concept. It is amazing. Hopefully I will be posting a lot more here. Have a lovely day.)

#persona series #persona #persona 6 #suki ichika #kimi kiyoshi #jumin eko #yu narukami #isas chikako #chiyoko chikako #my writing #bri writes

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