#and I think it's the fact that none of them are spring chickens and still feeling this is what's getting to me

[ct-hardcase]

...well, sweet princess aside from the severe degree of burnout it's obvious pretty much every author is feeling toward the end of this initiative but that's neither here nor there nor specifically a high republic problem

[aggro-my-beloved]

Trash Polka (AsherxBabe)

note: this hasn’t been fully looked over/edited so if you notice my mistakes just pretend you don’t. k thx.

summary: *doodles that a person draws on themselves will appear on their soulmate’s skin* [babe is tired of wearing hoodies in summer, and leggings in the spring. but their soulmate seems too caught up in his career to mind leaving little notes and drawings on their skin, rather than revealing himself. babe DOESN’T take matters into their own hands, but they soon won’t be covered by a mod-podge of their soulmate’s scribbles. one can hope, at least.]

pairing(s): AsherxBabe (romantic), AsherxDavid (platonic)

warning(s): none

word count: 1.4k

estimated reading time: 7 mins

taglist: @ther3alsweetheart @darlin-collins @professionallyyappinabtangst @elles-roses @ashertickler mwah

“GLOVES AGAIN? IT’S A HUNDRED degrees outside.” Katherine quips from her desk. As usual, Babe’s morning is all swearing and stumbles through the office building as they don a more than modest collection of clothing.

“I think it’s a hundred and one, actually.” Vinny chortles from his cubicle. Since turning down his invitation to be his plus one at the office holiday party the year prior, he’s been more prone to poke fun at them. Babe illustrates the smirk tugging at his lips and fantasizes ripping it clean off his visage while preparing for another busy morning. Bag strap on the back of their chair. The largest iced coffee Starbucks could provide them on the ceramic coaster gifted by Katherine, which reads some motivational slogan Babe would be caught dead uttering in any unironic fashion.

“I still don’t know how you manage to work like that.” Their colleague’s tone is the perfect balance of judgment and concern; a siren song can draw the most taboo answers from anyone she crosses paths with. Babe is aware of this, and yet they still respond. Katherine is approachable, but isn’t as prone to flapping her lips compared to others who lurk in the office.

“I told you before, Kat, I get cold easily. Low iron, and stuff.” Babe clears their throat and wiggles their chair closer to the computer before them. A few minutes pass, and they flicker their eyes between the two cubicles on either side of them, harboring a yapping Vinny on his phone, and Katherine engrossed in her bookkeeping tasks. Babe’s movement is subtle as they sink lower in their chair, and stretch their arms beneath their desktop to flick on the fan to its highest setting. Another glance back and forth. More nonsense gabs from Vinny. Even more sounds of filing papers from Katherine. They are sandwiched in a personal hell, but the heavy dress pants and turtleneck strangling their figure may be to blame for that.

Relieving wool gloves from their hands has grown to be an orgasmic experience for Babe. One of the few things they miss about working remotely is the pleasure of joining video meetings half-naked, and feel content with the fact that their colleagues are none the wiser about what their lower half is lacking. In this office full of prying eyes and passive-aggressive chatter, though, the simple act of baring their hands fills them with equal amounts of pleasure and shame of a lambasted stripper.

Babe’s eyes cascade over the swoops and strikes of black ink on skin, written in their spoken language but still holding no significant meaning—the lines embedded in their palm act as lines on ruled paper.

Sm Tourn @ Davey’s Fri 8

Buy milk, almost out

DO NOT DRINK MILK IN FRIDGE!

For whatever reason, the person who left these notes for themself also found it apropos to doodle a smiley face below the crease of their thumb. Babe stiffens at the tickling sensation on their opposite hand and draws their attention toward the writing slowly appearing on it. It’s messier than chicken scratch with some typos, like every other message this person leaves for them to discover, but Babe’s witnessed these messages long enough to decode them, or at the very least, try to.

The first time their parents discovered the writing on their skin, it couldn’t have come at a worse time. They were freshly tween, overflowing with naivety and curiosity, and they assumed their anonymous messenger was too. Babe’s father clocked them at the dinner table and demanded they show him their hand, where a “naughty” word written in bold lettering was spelled out on four out of five of their knuckles. Any excuse Babe mustered in that moment would have been a lie because they were still clueless as to how random notes appeared on their skin, or who the person writing them was.

They chalked it off as a word they heard from their classmates, but it didn’t satisfy their parents in the slightest. Babe missed a whole week's worth of Pokémon and Spongebob on the family television and held that grudge for as long as they could remember. But with no face or name to target their anger towards, they learned that stewing was pointless. Soapy water was the obvious solution in Babe’s mind. Just scrub hard enough and there would be no proof, right? Wrong. Whatever mystical power is embedded in this ink, or Babe’s skin, allows it to last twenty-four hours when fighting against soap, stain sticks, or even concealer. From that point on, Babe wrestled themselves into floor-length bottoms and long-sleeves up until high school graduation.

They’ve struggled falling asleep at night, trying to view this anomaly as a “gift”. Nobody else they’ve come across has poorly drawn Star Trek characters or names of midwest emo bands littering their epidermis like a composition notebook. Not to mention the person distributing these excerpts of their life–who are they? Do they know they’re capable of something like this? Do they even know Babe exists, and ponders the consequences of this condition in their life, and cries at the reminder that they can never purchase that crop top on sale or be stared at walking down the beach with a sweatshirt on?

Babe is broken out of their spiraling thoughts by Madelyn’s request to fetch the mail from the lobby. They didn’t catch the particular reason, but their ears perked up at the words “big check we need to run.” Babe feels invisible strings urging their eyes to roll and fights them, seizing the pair of gloves and bustling towards the nearest elevator. Once upon a time, Babe would take any excuse to waltz down the seventeen flights of stairs to dilly dally. But that was before their thoughts became consumed with dying of heat stroke between concrete walls and cotton layers.

Babe finds solace in the empty elevator, and decides to savor the feeling of bare hands in every way imaginable by cracking their knuckles, reaching them up to the fluorescent lights of the lift and drenching their skin in the gleam. In seconds, they become clenched fists, clammy and unresponsive at the sound of quickly approaching steps and voice growing in volume.

“Look, I know I left the stove on. I’m sorry, buddy. It was just a little flare up...” In a panic, Babe reaches forward to jab the button to close the doors, and halts at the sight of their hand, covered in more scribbles than before. They reduce themself into the corner, hastily cloaking their hands with the gloves. Amidst putting on the second one, the voice introduces its body in the picture as it squeezes through the elevator doors right before they shut. His phone is situated between his ear and shoulder, as he shuffles through the large stack of paperwork between his hands.

His hands…

Look just like…

“Bye buddy, love you!” His blonde hair swishes against his forehead as he cranes his neck down to end the call. “He’s really trying to turn me into that guy who’s being super loud on their phone in the elevator.” While pocketing his phone, Babe’s eyes follow his hands, scribbled in black. He retrieves a pen from behind his ear, uncaps it with his mouth and lets the ballpoint make contact with his skin before he begins writing. Babe feels the familiar tickle, but is too in shock to respond. Halfway through his latest entry, he shakes the pen violently with a grunt. “Damn, this thing’s getting low on ink.”

Through his peripheral vision, the blonde peeks over at the second set of hands in the elevator, and notices some writing peeking out from the half-worn glove overtaking Babe’s left hand. “Another avid notetaker, I see. My friends can’t stand it when I write on my skin. They say it's a one way trip to ink poisoning. But it’s saving the trees, right?” Again, the nervous chuckle floats through the space, and then awkward silence. Babe’s lips remain parted in awe, too caught up in the current revelation to grab hold of anything as the elevator’s motor stutters and comes to a sudden halt. Before they could tumble to the floor, his coated hands caught them amidst their teetering. Blue eyes pooling with an intimidating level of concern, stare them down.

“Aw man, I think the elevator got stuck. Hey, are you alright?” The eyes flicker down, and the man appears to harbor the same revelation as Babe when he further inspects the writing on their hand. At least, they thought…

“No way! You like Star Trek too?”

soulmate september schedule | main masterlist | abt author

[3point14a]

au post over here because its not an actual drawing! but i think its cool info about our au lol :] older siblings!!!

!!! one of these defenitelly looks more confusing than the others w o u p s ehm some extra schtuff under the cut

spring fox and meg, the classics, THE brothers, they love eachother they all just have issues and keep setting eachother offfff but they are so cool and epic. Anyways yeah, none of them 3 are biologically related at all, but Maggie IS Meg's bio brother, Meg sort of remembers?? having a sibling?? but trauma response will erase a lot from ur brain and the "sibling" role in his brain folder was already taken by Spring anyways.

Vincent and owynn!!!!!!!!!! Vincent is the "camarero" bg character and he still works as a waiter i promise, anyways Owynn genuinly despises the guy and his guts, and Vincent loves his baby sibling but its complicated, the little squiggles mean complicated, the fuck you brothers

Leti :D the "novia" bg character, anddd her brotherrrr theres not much to say, monty gator jumpscare, he doesnt have much of a character yet but we thought that since shes already an alligator she was a good gateway to making monty real lmao ToT, good siblings absolutely normal, plain bread of siblingism

worlds most complicated family, ok the big sibling isss robin!! Who is the "bibliotecario" bg character! she is a masc woman now hurrah. She is chicas older sister by both parents, then her dad died and after a while her mom remarried to Eaks dad, half siblings and all and then bam new kid, her name is gabi but chica calls her cupcake lol :9 fun fact none of them share a bird: Robin got her dad's bird (buzzard), Chica got her moms bird (chicken), Eak has his mom's bird (eagle), and Gabi got her dad's bird (to be determined)

Mica (oc) and golden! Golden has more siblings but we still have to establish them more so for now it's just mica, Uh he's a bit of a weirdo and likes Golden but is also tense and jealous and weird about it, Golden just sees him as a stranger they share blood with

Onnie, malva (usagi) and Bon. Mannnnn the worst set of siblings ever, Onnie ran away when he was 14 and was presumed dead!!!! so yeah! the twins have some complicated and messy feelings about it and then Onnie who is not dead wants those two dead because it thinks that now that it's gone suddenly their home life got better, so he's jealous and pissed off and making insanely incorrect assumptions, worlds worst set of siblings

[nowoyas]

koi no yokan 25: preliminary (nishinoya yuu/reader)

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Ao3

A/N: sliiiightly early because I have a busyish day tomorrow at a writer's conference! I may return to this chapter to rework some things bc I just couldn't make myself happy with it, but I hope you enjoy it all the same!

Summary: The first round of preliminaries for the Spring Tournament begin and end.

Warnings and tags: none!

Words: 3600+

The first school that your boys are going up against looks like it's comprised entirely of delinquents. You don't necessarily like to judge people based on their looks, but now that you're on the court for warm ups, you get to listen to them taunt Tanaka and confirm your initial impression beyond a doubt. Of course, it's getting to Tanaka, and more importantly, it's getting to you.

"Is it just me," Yachi says, hugging her arms to herself, "or do volleyball players just all naturally look pretty scary?"

You nod. "I bet they're all talk, though, I mean, look at them."

"I am looking at them!" she replies in a hushed whisper. "They're big! And scary! They are literally picking a fight with Tanaka-senpai right now!"

You shrug. "Yeah, I bet they feel really good picking a fight from the other side of the net. But like, you see that hair? Dude obviously cares more about how he looks than things like actually being cool or actually being good in a fight. I could probably kick his ass myself." Just for fun and because your head is starting to hurt, you make it a point to raise your voice a little bit. "Guys like that always chicken out the second they actually have to do anything real."

Yachi goes deathly pale and grabs at your arm harshly. "[name]-chan! They're gonna hear you! I think one of them did!"

You feel a little bad, but not for that—being heard was the point, thank you. It's more to do with the way she's more worried about your safety than she is assured by your absolute confidence. "Deep breaths, Yacchan."

Though you would love to keep talking trash, it probably isn't the best sportsmanship to start fights with the other team, even as a manager. That, and Yachi might actually pass out if you keep threatening to fight them. Instead, you begrudgingly keep your mouth shut for the rest of warmups.

When the time comes to head up to the stands with Yachi—only one manager allowed on the court for the match, after all—Noya pulls you to the side with an expectant look. You roll your eyes, but the Ohgi Minami guys are watching and looking for shit to talk, so what else is there to do but play it up?

"Yes, Senpai?" you ask sweetly, making it a point to tilt your head ever so sweetly.

He blinks in surprise. "…what are you doing?"

A saccharine smile. "Your opponents are pissing me off. Yachi looked like she was going to pass out when I told her I could take 'em in a fight, so I'm being forced to resort to the next best thing: being a girl who acts all cute and sweet with you guys and rubbing it in their faces."

He laughs and ruffles your hair. "That's good. You're still not allowed to get into any fights, but we'll make sure to beat 'em for you. You gotta promise me something, though."

"Mm?" You tilt your head cutely.

"Stop being so damn cute, I'm trying to propose right now. You gotta marry me if we win, okay?"

You smile and laugh right back. "I'll marry you if you hit the quota and win for me. We have a deal?"

"You didn't even have to ask." He pulls you into a quick side hug, and you flash a smile and wave on your way out to the hallway. The grin only widens when you catch sight of a few fuming guys on the other team who obviously witnessed the exchange. Too easy.

There aren't many people in the stands today. Part of it, you think, is the fact that surely, high school volleyball can't be that popular. Then again this is only the preliminary part of the Spring Tournament, and apparently, all the really big, fun matches are yet to come. Most of them won't be until the end of October.

Still, there are a few people who come to watch. Some fisherman type who, based on the exchange between him and someone else who's just joined the cheering section, is from the neighborhood and comes to support Karasuno. The other guy comes in with two kids who must be in early middle school at the absolute oldest. The kids⁴⁰ take an immediate interest in you and Yachi.

"Nee-san, why aren't the two of you also on the court?" one of them asks.

Yachi takes immediate offense. You pretend not to. "D-didn't you know that only one manager is allowed on the bench?"

The other kid peeks out at the court and spots Shimizu. "Ooh. Karasuno must be really cool to have three whole managers!"

Yachi flinches, her eyes darting to you. For a second, you think she's about to say something on your behalf. You would rather that she didn't, so you speak up. "More like, they create so much trouble that they need three whole people running around after them." You roll your eyes playfully. "But really, the redundancy is good. We make up for what the other can't do."

"[n-name]-chan…"

You grin, rest your arms on the railing and your chin on your arms. "Like, Yacchan here's better at talking to people, and creative stuff. I can do heavier lifting and throw troublemakers across the room as needed."

"A-and you're back on that again…" she sighs. She turns to talking with the kids—good for her. You don't know the first thing about all that, so you're happy to leave the job to her while waiting for the match to kick up.

And kick up it does—it seems to fly by. Asahi starts off by absolutely nailing the new serve, and you can't help the little swell of pride as the guys on Ohgi Minami's team seem completely shell-shocked by that alone. Wait until they get to actually play.

From what you've been able to gather, the boys aren't exactly unknown. You'd listened in with pride when, during set-up time, some guys from another school were gossiping about them. All, Kitagawa Daichi's Kageyama and Chidoriyama's Nishinoya, best libero when he was in middle school and they had Seijoh on the ropes at the Inter-high. (They'd immediately killed the intimidating vibes, courtesy of the usual culprits messing around, but it had been a nice moment to overhear.)

The intimidation is well-earned, it seems. That first point hadn't been a fluke—the boys are completely on-point today. Even without the new quick in action just yet, they pull through the first set—16 to 25, hardly even a contest. Not only that, but you're even more confident that these guys aren't fighters now—the way the captain just watched a ball go that he might've saved. This is more serious volleyball than the training camp, and your boys are taking it seriously, but…

You sigh. As fun as it is to watch them kick ass, they're a bit more fun when they have to push themselves.

For a moment, you think things will be different for the second set—someone on the other side yelling at the Ohgi Minami guys from the stands, and even their declaration of battle, imply that maybe they might get there. And maybe in that second set they do try harder, but so do your boys, and in the end, you get one really interesting rally to watch at the very end and, more importantly—

You're not sure if Yachi hugs you, or you hug her, but there you are, cheering as it sinks in that the boys have won the first official match. You feel a little bad about the other team, but not nearly bad enough to not smile with Yachi and then immediately tone it down before a certain someone sees you getting all excited.

You meet up with the boys in the hall, get your Noya-mandated hugs in, pass out drinks and light snacks to keep them fueled as they watch the match of whoever they're going to be playing next. It's one Kakugawa High School versus Nishida High School, and Kakugawa has a very tall guy, so obviously they're kicking ass. Apparently.

"Being that tall isn't even fair…" Tanaka breathes as he peeks in through the gym door. Behind you, Hinata's talking something about fusing with some random shark species? You don't know what he's on about.

"Is being that tall that big of a deal?" you wonder to Noya. "I mean, I know it's an advantage or whatever, but…"

"Aw, are you worried?" Noya teases. "It won't be easy, but watching him play… let's just say, I've got some ideas."

You tilt your head. "Like…?"

"Just watch, and keep giving me your luck." He flashes that usual smile.

You have no fucking clue what he's talking about, but sure.

Your headache builds over the course of the next match. The first set goes to Karasuno, much more balanced than before. Your cheering grows quieter—not because you're less excited, but because the longer you watch, the more your head hurts and the less you can keep up with anything. You're aware enough to know that you should have bothered Sensei for painkillers between matches, that you really should go outside and get some air. Aware enough to remember the moment of genuine worry at the beginning of the first set, and the cheer when the disaster duo broke out the new quick. That, and the horrific spike in pain at the crowd's reaction.

And they win. Of course they win—you of all people know how hard those boys worked. They've earned it.

Then comes packing up, a full spinning hug from Noya that leaves you dizzy in a bad way, and, when Noya and Tanaka offer to Shimizu to help carry the bags, your out to calm down and catch your breath somewhere quiet.

"I'm going to check and make sure no one's left anything behind," Shimizu says to you and Yachi.

You step up with your best smile. "Can I handle it? I need to run to the bathroom, anyway."

She arches a perfect brow. "Are you sure? I don't mind."

"Please? No one let me help carry anything. I wanna do one useful thing today." You smile sweetly, bat your lashes. And, of course, get your way.

"Alright. Meet us outside?"

You grin, nod enthusiastically. Rush off to where everyone had been camping out between matches today.

("Is she okay, do you think?" Shimizu asks when the coast is clear.

Yachi shakes her head. "She was getting really quiet towards the start of the last set. I think her head's acting up again."

Noya crosses his arms and watches you disappear.)

It takes all of two seconds to find a familiar bento box, even though you're purposely lingering now that you're out of the team's sight—Hinata's, wrapped up in some cutesy cloth you'd considered teasing him about earlier today—and confirm that nothing else is remaining. Then, you find a quiet place to sigh and try to regain your bearings.

You just gotta make it through the bus ride home, and then the walk home. You can tell Noya your dad's home, so then you can get alone and go right to bed to sleep off the headache…

Yeah, it's doable.

A deep breath. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes in hopes that the pressure will do something, anything to soothe the growing ache.

You'd never blame Hinata, but right now, you really wish you could be mad at someone for this. You're so fucking tired of the headaches, of not being able to make it through the day. When you get back to school, you—

A presence interrupts your spiral, and you drag your hand down your face to find that you're being cornered by two strangers—troublemaker types by the looks of it. The one who catches your eye and smiles, walks right up with all the confidence in the world, has an undercut and, when he speaks, you catch the flash of a silver tongue piercing in his mouth.

If your head wasn't starting to spin, he might be slightly attractive.

"Hey there," he says with a smooth tone. "You doing alright? Anything I can do to help out a pretty girl like you?"

"Leave me alone, for one thing," you reply. "I'm gonna be running late real soon, and—"

"Aw, come on, don't be like that. It doesn't have to take long, if I could just get your number we can talk after you catch up with whoever it is."

You sigh. "With my boyfriend?"

Somehow, he's not that fazed. "When you break up with him, then?"

"Excuse me?" You raise an eyebrow. God, if you were two percent less dizzy, you'd—

"Um!" comes the interruption of a very familiar shout, and then Hinata's sliding in between the two of you. "S-sorry, but [surname]-san's our manager and we really need to go, so!"

He grabs you, tugs you along. You struggle to keep up, stumble after him, but then he's literally throwing Hinata to the side, and oh hell no—

Your hand balls into a fist. You're about two seconds from actually decking this guy when Hinata full on leaps in the way (holy shit he could probably jump over you if he wanted) and completely distracts the guy, who goes on some complete other tangent that you don't have the energy to follow beyond thank fuck he stopped trying to get my number.

He leaves. You sigh.

"Thanks, Hinata. Sorry about that. You didn't get hurt when he pushed you, did you?"

He shakes his head. "I'm okay. You?"

"Just… head hurts. Probably good. Probably would have gotten arrested if my head didn't get in the way."

"A-arrested!? [surname]-san—"

You laugh, wave it off. "I get a little heated sometimes. He was pissing me off. I was a moment away from punching him, that's all."

"Well… okay…" He frowns.

"Seriously, though. Thank you for helping out. But, um, could you do me a favor and not mention what happened to any of the guys?"

"About your head?"

"No, about that guy hitting on me. You know what Noya-senpai's like. It'd be a whole thing and I just—can't handle things until the head clears up."

There's a beat where he registers the request, and then he nods. "No problem! I'll keep my mouth shut!"

"Great. Thanks. By the way—this's yours, right?" You wave the bento at him. "Cute cloth."

He flushes. "It's—uh—I borrowed it from my little sister!"

If you'd had more energy, you'd tease him properly. As it stands, you can barely muster the energy to drag yourself along beside him on the way back to the bus. There, you're greeted with twin I'm so glad you're safe!s from Noya and surprise guest Tanaka, loud enough to make you cringe and to make them sheepishly apologize.

Painkillers from Sensei, earplugs brought along, and resting your head on Noya—though you'd insisted he sit with one of the guys, since you didn't plan on being an interesting seatmate—delivers you most of the way home. Unlike the Tokyo trips, this drive is only about half an hour, so you don't even really get to fall asleep so much as space out for a little while. When you give up on trying to sleep, you take out one earplug and listen in on whatever conversation has your pillow moving disobediently beneath your head.

"You remember that I said I wouldn't help you with the summer homework⁴¹, right?" Ennoshita is saying.

Noya sighs in defeat. "Right…"

Hinata lets out a pained noise. "How long do we have to finish that, again…?"

"Like a week. You should be fine if you actually sit down and do it."

You whine. "Do you think they'll waive it for me? I haven't even looked at it."

"N-not even you, [surname]-san?"

"My head exploded. I have an excuse."

Yachi turns around from the seat in front of you. "I'm mostly done. Do you want to work on it together?"

You pick up your head, teary-eyed. "Y-Yacchan…"

"Yachi-san! [surname]-san! Do you guys wanna work on it together, too? Kageyama and I need help…" Hinata pipes up.

"We could host something," Noya offers. "You guys all wanna come over tomorrow?"

Suddenly, the conversation is off the rails—they're discussing logistics, hosting, whatever while you completely fail to keep up. One thing you manage, though—shooting off a text or two.

[name] to Rina-san at 16:53

[name]: hi rina-san! Sorry to bother you—Senpai's talking about maybe having like five people (including me) over for a couple hours tomorrow for a summer homework session and I think he forgot to run it by you lol. Is that alright? I was already planning on handling the snacks

Rina-san: that's perfectly fine with me. Thank you for asking! I'll text the girls and make sure they know

You slip Noya's phone out of his pocket just as it buzzes with a new text or two.

Okaa-san to Nishinoyas at 16:57

Okaa-san: girls, yuu's gonna have some friends over tomorrow if there's no objections

Okaa-san: no one has any plans right??

Satsuki: why is yuu not telling us directly hmm

Okaa-san: [name]-chan was the one to let me know

Satsuki: say no more. Bring on the idiot friends + [name]-chan

Yuu: aw, be nice. They're all smart, they just don't worry about academics until it gets in the way of volleyball

Satsuki: DIFFERENT TYPING STYLE SPOTTED

Satsuki: IS THAT THE BONUS SISTER I SEE?

Yuu: I stole his phone again 💝 he's discussing plans with the others but my head hurts too much to keep up so I figured I'd worry about the other logistics. Like making sure he could actually invite a bunch of people over

Mei: hi [name]-chan! How were the matches?

Yuu: volleyboys did great. We're almost back at the school

Yuu: they'll be moving on to the next stage of the qualifiers at the end of october! 🎉

Kaede: CONGRATS YUU (whenever you give him his phone back)

Mei: 🎉

Satsuki: dammit now I have to wait at least a week before calling him a loser. Worst possible news 

Yuu: which means we now have to worry about summer homework. Which I haven't started bc in my defense, the concussion,

Yuu: we're hoping to study session our way to actually getting stuff done. Which means probably me and our other first-year manager corralling four boys who can only focus when volleyball is involved

Satsuki: oo the mythical third manager is coming? Is she cute?

Yuu: she's adorable. Full-on cute aggression is involved

Satsuki: 👀 gay?

Yuu: unclear. She hasn't really shown interest in anyone of any gender.

Yuu: but if noya-senpai wanted to protect ME from you then she definitely couldn't handle you, nee-san. She's too sweet, sorry 💔

Satsuki: 💔

"Oi, is that my phone?" Noya's voice cuts in suddenly.

You glance up with a grin. "If you couldn't feel me literally reach into your pocket to grab it, I think that's on you. Rina-san says it's okay to have people over tomorrow, though."

"Oh! Great! I totally forgot to ask."

A laugh. "I figured as much. Don't worry, Senpai, I got you. The girls hold no objections, either, but I'm getting the weird sense that Satsuki-nee's gonna pop in at some point, as a heads up. She's curious about the mythical bonus girl. Yacchan, you're coming, right?"

"Yeah! It sounds fun!"

"Cool cool, I've warned Satsuki."

"Um—warned?"

You laugh. "Don't worry about it. Nee-san's just a little forward."

"Oh, um, okay—wait, forward?"

"Again, don't worry about it!"

This does not seem to placate her as the bus turns into the school. Eventually, you have to give Noya his phone back, and on the walk home, you bicker over snack logistics in preparation for tomorrow. You just hope that your headache will calm enough to get something done tomorrow.

40. I did some SCOURING about these kids and found out, essentially, that we don't know shit about them other than they're Old Coach Ukai's students. On one hand, this means I get to do whatever I want. On the other hand [anguished wailing] I HAVE TO NAME THEM??? I may end up not doing so, since I don't plan for them to be extremely plot-important and also I don't want to.

41. You would not believe how insistent the internet is on just NOT FUCKING TELLING ME shit about high school summer homework. I basically know that it exists, but all the information in English is about, like, "I have an elementary schooler and we want to travel during summer break how do summer homework" or the kinds of things elementary and maybe middle school students do for summer homework. The main thing I was able to find related to specifically high school students beyond summer homework existing was actually a paper⁴² analyzing the disparity between how important teachers thought specific summer homework tasks were and how important the students performing them thought they were, and this study was solely limited to English courses and related homework. In the end I decided to just handwave it as "they've got a bunch of worksheets and practice problem packets and maybe some stuff to read".

42. Tsunehisa Isaji, "Relationships Between Teachers' Instructions on Homework to Japanese High School Students and Their Homework Activities" Japan Society of English Language Education 20 (2009): 211-220. https://doi.org/10.20581/arele.20.0_211

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @kazunish

[nightcityace]

[ SUBJECT INTERVIEW: SUNNY ]

[NICKNAME:]

Sunny: I guess technically Sunny was a nickname before it became official, but I've also been called Sunshine, Sunbeam, Ray of Sunshine… you can probably see the pattern. Interviewer: And what is your real name? Sunny: Sunny is my real name. Just because it might not be the first name I had doesn't mean it's not my real name.

[GENDER:]

None for me, thanks.

[STAR SIGN:]

Misty says I’m an Aquarius. I guess I never really put much thought into any of that, but she really enjoys it so that makes it fun for me too.

[HEIGHT:]

5’ 9”, but some of my boots make me a little taller. No platforms or anything though, I wouldn't be able to walk to save my life.

[ORIENTATION:]

Only interested in men, but I guess I don't really try to define myself often. Just queer in general is probably the best term I suppose.

[NATIONALITY / ETHNICITY:]

That's another one I never really think too much about. A lot of people tend to think my family are Nomads, but we’ve been here since before Night City was Night City. My… (counts on fingers) great-great-great grandparents actually bought our property back when California was still one state, so we’re about as local as you get. Before that I think someone came from New York and before that I don’t really know, all over Europe I think.

[FAVE FRUIT:]

Strawberries, not like synthetic ones or those over priced cloned ones, real strawberries. We managed to get a little section of them growing at home and nothing can compare. 

[FAVE SEASON:]

Probably spring. I love getting to watch everything sprout and bloom, even out in the desert. 

[FAVE FLOWER:]

Sunny: People usually expect me to say something cliche like sunflowers, but I genuinely love dandelions. Especially when they grow up out of cracks in pavement or sidewalks. It's proof there's still nature in the city, even when they try to hide it under all the concrete. They’re stubborn little flowers and they're perfect. Interviewer: Aren't dandelions weeds? Sunny: Only because someone wanted to sell people on the idea of a perfectly sterilized, useless, solid patch of grass which completely destroyed the biodiversity of most yards. They’re yellow, they're cute, I like them. Interviewer: Got it…

[FAVE SCENT:]

This is a hard one to describe, but do you know how sometimes you can kind of smell outside? Not like… exhaust and garbage obviously… but there's a certain smell that gets in your hair and clothes when you've been out in the wind and sun and you can just tell that's what it is.

[COFFEE, TEA, HOT CHOCOLATE:]

Yes please, all of it.

[AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP:]

Probably about 6 or 7 normally. I tend to wake up early after having to for most of my life, but I love going back to bed. I'll usually wake up about sunrise or earlier and go have a cup of coffee and check my plants to see if they need water and if Vik isn't up yet I'll scooch back under the covers and go right back to sleep for a few more hours. Plus naps, naps are great.

[DOG OR CAT PERSON:]

Chickens. Okay okay, I know obviously I can't have them in the city, but the farm is well outside the avian exclusion zone. Seriously, they're adorable. (Pulls out phone to show no less than 300 different pictures of chicks and chickens)

[DREAM TRIP:]

Honestly I don't know. I like being close to my family and being in NC, so I don't think I'd want to go anywhere long. I have some Nomad friends though so a trip with them might be fun, maybe somewhere with actual mountains since I really like climbing around the canyons and stuff we have out in the Badlands. 

[FAVE FICTIONAL CHARACTER:]

Hmmm… I'm gonna go with Bugs Bunny. Both extremely cute and extremely chaotic, I respect that.

[NUMBER OF BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH:]

I usually start with one or two, but I tend to run warm so by the time I wake up it's not uncommon for them all to be kicked down to the end of the bed or piled up on Vik’s side.

[RANDOM FACT:]

Sunny: About me or just like… a fact I like? Hm, how about: it's surprisingly easy to get a wild coyote into the front seat of a locked car. You wouldn't think so, but getting it out is actually much harder. Interviewer: Okay... That's slightly troubling... how about a fact about you? Sunny: I know how to get a wild coyote into the front seat of a locked car. 

This was so fun to do!! Thank you @dreamskug for tagging me!

I have a few other tag things I still need to do with Sunny, I swear I havent actually forgotten, I just have terrible time management... >.>

EDIT: oh dang I forgot to tag people D: I think most of my cp friends have been tagged already so I'll toss it to @wraithsoutlaws bc I want someone to have the audacity to interview Dagger :P

[foone]

honestly it would be funny to make an analog horror and include hints to all the normal tropes but then none of them end up being actually the case.

there's a kid acting weird, they weren't abused, murdered, or possessed. they've got ADHD and having trouble at school, but with some medication they're doing better now.

there's a company making a video game and it doesn't come out, and there's mysterious stories about the developers... the game is found on a CD-R at goodwill, and it's a decent if incomplete platformer-RPG.

the developer disappeared because he got kicked out of the country due to an expired work visa. He's actually just fine off in a different country doing work on other things. (fun fact: this happened to the main programmer of Final Fantasy I-III & Secret of Mana halfway through making II & III: His Japanese work visa expired, and they had to finish programming the game by moving all the other (Japanese) developers to Sacramento)

The company is experimenting with weird physics, and they have tons of security with it. There's no portal, no backrooms... but their new capacitor chemistry is significantly cheaper but with similar longevity. The security was to keep their competitors from stealing their millions of dollars of research.

There's a religious sect which has weird rituals and it turns out... they're a bunch of christians who have minor issues with the similar christians they split off from. They are very passionate about 1 Corinthians 3:16 and they refuse to eat avocados or other large berries, at pain of expulsion. What? No? No one got abused or sacrificed. I mean, Tanya sacrificed her weekends for 5 years to cook for the preschool, but she's still alive and happy.

There's a serial killer stalking the city. He leaves cryptic clues to his next target. The police capture him easily with a illegal DNA test after his daughter got cancer.

There's a spooky entity sometimes seen in analog media, and corrupting digital ones... after additional shielding is added to the main turbine of the Long Shoals Power Plant, the audio/visual disturbances in the area vanish.

That spooky tall person haunting the woods turns out to be a trans woman in a hoodie (it's cold in november!) foraging for mushrooms. She talks your ear off about how to tell the difference between Spring kings (Boletus rex-veris) and the deadly brown roll-rim (Paxillus involutus).

The abandoned house has a dark secret: the floorboards on the second floor are not up to code. why do you think it got condemned in the first place? Don't go up there, you might die! not from a ghost, from falling through the floor and getting super-tetanus.

The toy company closed down, all to hide their dark secret: those toys were made in sweatshop! the paint on the dolls has unsafe amounts of lead! The producer for the cartoon resigned in disgrace... no he just got a DUI and spent 9 months in jail for it. no kids were involved and no one died.

there's an alternate history about the US where it turns out all kinds of secret massacres and evil architecture and deals with pure evil and super weapons... but it's just the same ones we did in this reality. you know, the Black Hawk War, the MOVE bombing, the various mining wars, Robert Moses's racist & classist city planning, Project Paperclip, and ICBMs. No need for magic glass or hidden structures inside monuments: we've got Trinity Glass and the Cheyenne Mountain Complex.

You get strange notes left by your door, and it turns out they were all left by that nice lady who helped you with the groceries the other day. Her english isn't so good, and usually her grandson stops by and helps, but he's been away for school and her broken words didn't get across how she had some spare eggs from her chickens if you'd like some, it instead read more like she was going to "take your eggs"?

You can't believe that urban legend about an evil barren woman preying on pregnant women. that was just some bullshit made up by that christian group who was protesting abortion on your campus. It never happened (insert frakes gif here)

The guy stuck in a submarine at the bottom of the ocean is just there because he's an idiot techbro, not because he's a criminal condemned to one final mission at the bottom of a sea of blood in a universe where the stars are all dead. He just thought he was smarter than the people who actually build submarines, and made his out of expired tin foil.

I'm gonna make a analog horror

hard mode: there will be no "anomalies".

[daisynik7]

A Bento For Kento

Chapter 1: The Very First Bento

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Word Count: ~2.7k

cw: mention of a tragic accident (does not go into detail)

Summary: You make the very first bento box for your dear brother, Ren. You also find out some surprising news. Nanami hasn't found a new bakery to buy his typical ham and cheese sandwich. He eyes his new student's bento box with envy.

Notes: The first bento box is inspired by this: Cute Octopus Sausage Bento! I mean, how cute is this?! Let me know in the comments, chat, or in a private message if you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter(s)! And thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated :)

ao3 | Next Chapter

A Bento for Kento Masterlist

--------------------

White rice, check. Chicken gyozas, check. Spring mix salad with a side of creamy miso dressing, check. Hot dog pieces shaped like little octopi, because why the hell not, check. All in the bento they go, you think, in a sing-song voice. 

It’s the beginning of summer and the temperature is finally starting to warm up. This season always puts you in a lazy mood, more so than usual. Hearing the neighborhood kids play joyfully outside makes you wish you had a mandated break as well. But no, you are an adult! Almost thirty in fact. Unfortunately, you haven’t had a vacation in years, so you will continue to flow through the mundane cycle of adulthood until you’re retired or, fingers crossed, win the lottery. None of which you predict will happen in the near future.

Thankfully, your job allows you to work from home most days of the year. This is especially nice because this summer, your dear younger brother, Ren, is living with you. Your parents originally planned a long family vacation overseas with him, having never had a chance to travel before. You were excited for him to see the outside world, explore his horizons. Since you couldn’t go because of your responsibilities to your 9-to-5, you were planning to live vicariously through him as he enjoyed the sights, sounds, and most importantly, the delicious food.

When he decided last minute that he did not want to go on the trip anymore, you were shocked. Your parents, being the saints they are, waved it off casually, not even attempting to convince him to reconsider. You questioned them to discover the reason for the sudden decision. They simply said, “He has his reasons.” No further explanation. After pestering them a few more times, only to receive the same answer, you stopped, leaving everything up to your own speculations. 

Maybe it was cold feet? Anxiety? An awkward phase? Overseas trips can be stressful, you can understand that. Still, you can’t help but wonder. It’s probably a hormonal teenager issue that you can’t comprehend, but your parents can, so you leave it at that. 

Because your parents couldn’t get out of all the deposits they made, they chose to go on their big trip without Ren. Not wanting your brother to be alone, you offered your place for him to stay, which he was just as excited about as you were. You’re happy for this opportunity to spend time with him. It’s been years since you moved out and you missed hanging out with your family. You also feel guilty about putting minimal effort into visiting them, despite being less than an hour train ride away. This is your chance to make up for lost time, especially with your brother, who you’ve always felt a special bond with. Before they left, your parents made it a point to tell you, “Take care of him while we’re away.” As if you needed to prove to them, and yourself, that you are capable of being the best older sister you can be. 

Truth be told, it’s been lonely living on your own, a revelation that you sense more and more each year you get older. Having Ren here, someone in your life who loves you unconditionally, is a welcome change. This summer is going to be exponentially better than the last five since living alone. You’re sure of it. 

The first Monday of vacation, fueled by a single coffee’s worth of caffeine, you greet your brother happily in the kitchen. “Good morning, sunshine! Look what I made for you!” You cradle a precious bento box in your hands, slowly lifting it up like Simba, imagining “Circle of Life” playing in the background. 

Ren, fresh out of bed and still drowsy, stands in front of you, rubbing his eyes sleepily. “Huh?” He yawns and stretches his arms out. “What is it?”

“It’s a bento box!” You lower it and open the cover delicately. Your eyes sparkle as you imagine a golden light shimmer from within. “I put this together myself! TikTok has a plethora of bento box content, so I took a lot of ideas from there.”

His eyes widen, gazing at the food as if it’s valuable treasure. “Gyozas! And hot dog octopi!” A bright smile on his face, he takes his phone out to snap a picture. “I’m putting this on my story, this is too cute.” 

You almost tear up hearing him praise your creation like this, but it’s too earlier for those shenanigans. Calming down from your excitement, you say, “I’m still practicing. And I’m sure I’ll run out of ideas soon, so if you have any special requests, let me know.”

Closing the bento and setting it back down on the table, you ask, “What do you want to do today? If you’re hungry now, you can dig into the bento. But I was thinking we can go for a walk at the park before we eat! What do you think?”

His smile slowly turns into a small pout as he shifts his feet guiltily. “Well, actually, I forgot to tell you. I start summer school today.”

“Huh? Summer school? But your school is so far from here! It’ll take us at least 45 minutes to get there!” Is this the reason why he didn’t want to go on the trip? All because of summer school? And if he knew that, why would he agree to stay here, when it’s so far away? You start to panic slightly, taken aback by this sudden news. 

“It’s not exactly for regular school,” he begins to explain. “It’s…uh, for this other program I’m applying to.”

You stare at him, brows furrowed, arms crossed, waiting for more of an explanation. 

He speaks a little faster now. “It’s a summer program for this school called Jujutsu High. A big opportunity came up and I took it. The lessons are three days a week for the next two months. That’s the reason I didn’t want to go on the trip anymore. I have to attend these lessons so I can officially get in next semester. I want to go to this school from now on.”

Pausing to take a breath, he continues. “Mom and Dad know all about it. I explained it to them. They support me 100%, which is why they didn’t make a big deal when I backed out of the trip. They know this is important to me.”

Your mouth hangs open slightly, still confused, waiting for it to make sense. Jujutsu High? Why is this the first time you’re hearing of this? And Mom and Dad know all about it? Why didn’t anyone tell you? 

Ren walks towards you and puts his hands on your shoulders, giving you a firm squeeze. When did he get so much taller than you? Weren’t you supposed to be the adult here?! “I know this doesn’t make sense, but it’s important to me. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. It’s just…hard to explain. And I can’t really tell you everything yet. You just have to trust me.”

He’s being weirdly cryptic, but you start to realize how odd your parents were also being the other day. 

He has his reasons. 

Take care of him while we’re away.

Is there something they all know about that you don’t? And why are you the only one being kept in the dark? 

You snap out of your thoughts when he starts speaking again. “I’m sorry, I know I’m being strange about this, but I don’t know how to explain everything right now. Just trust me. It’s not sketchy or dangerous, I promise.” He flashes you a reassuring grin. 

After contemplating for several seconds, you sigh. “You promise it’s not some creepy cult, right? I’ve indulged in my fair share of true crime podcasts. I can see the warning signs!”

He laughs. “If it is a cult, then I’m already screwed, right?”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, fine. I’m going to pretend that this is perfectly normal. I trust you. And I trust Mom and Dad. If they’re good with it, I’m good with it too. You don’t have to tell me everything right now if you don’t want to.” You pause, then reiterate, “I trust you.”

He wraps you in a big hug, “Thanks sis. You really are the best.” 

You return his embrace, still concerned, but ultimately deciding not to worry so much about it. It can’t be anything too nefarious, right? “Anyways, Jujutsu High. Is it close by?”

“Yeah, it’s walking distance from here, about 10 minutes. But I’m doing my lessons at a nearby office building. I actually have to head over there now to meet my teacher. Our first lesson is today.” He scrambles to pack a few items into his backpack.

How strange, an office building? This really might be some weird cult thing. You grab the bento from the table and hand it to him. “Well, take this. You’ll need food. Are you skipping breakfast?”

He packs the bento carefully into his backpack. “Yeah, I’ll just save my appetite for this. This looks so good. Thanks for making it.” He zips up his bag and swings it over his shoulder. “Well, I’m off! I’ll see you later.”

As he walks towards the door, you yell out at him, “Be careful! See you later!”

You take a deep breath and look around, sighing. All alone once again. 

~~~

“Nice to meet you, Nakamura. My name is Kento Nanami. I’ll be your mentor the next few weeks.” 

Ren Nakamura, aged 16. Gojo recruited him when they found him wandering around the abandoned building they were investigating outside of Tokyo. This is a trial run before officially offering him a spot as a student in this upcoming schoolyear. He has no history or knowledge of Jujutsu Sorcery, having been raised by a family of non-sorcerers. However, according to Gojo, he seems to have an eye for curses, having the guts to take them head-on with no experience whatsoever. And clearly, Gojo has his own eyes on him for a reason. 

“He’s adopted. His parents were killed in a tragic, mysterious accident and these family friends took him in.” Gojo gave Nanami a brief background last week. “It seems like since then, he’s had a habit for exploring haunted houses and chasing curses.” 

Gojo paused, then smirked. “The kid’s got guts, that’s for sure. He was taking on this ugly looking grade 4 curse with just his skateboard as a weapon. Luckily we found him before he could get hurt.” Gojo laughed and said happily, “He’s pretty twisted, so he’ll fit right in.”

That’s how Nanami ended up here, his summer dedicated to guiding this rookie. He still owes Gojo a favor, so they settle on this as a way to pay it back. Nanami actually doesn’t mind training young prospects in Jujutsu Sorcery. Teaching is one of his hidden passions in life. It gives him purpose, something his last job couldn’t fulfill for him. Plus, it’s fun and he’s proficient at it.

Him and his new student spend the first few hours going through the history of Jujutsu Sorcery and the school, Ren interjecting often to ask questions expected from someone who’s life suddenly changed upon realizing this unique ability. Gojo even made a surprise appearance to check-in, adding a bit more chaos to the mix.

After Nanami feels like he’s overwhelmed him enough, he decides it’s time for a lunch break. He looks at his desk and remembers too late that he did not pick up lunch for the both of them, which he intended to do. The local bakery he frequents stopped selling his favorite ham and cheese sandwich. He had put off finding a replacement for a while now. After running errands all morning, the thought of providing lunch slips his mind completely. 

“Nakamura. I’m sorry, but I did not bring lunch for us. I’m just going to make a hot tea for myself, but if you give me a few minutes, I’ll run out and quickly buy – ”

“Hey, no worries, mentor! I actually brought a lunch.” He pulls out a bento box out of his backpack and opens it. 

Nanami’s eyes widen behind his thick glasses as Ren removes the cover. It almost seems as if a dazzling light radiates once the food is revealed. Gyozas, white rice, salad, even hot dogs shaped like little sea creatures. He would never admit to anything being “cute”, but that is the first word that pops into his head, seeing this charming work of art. Ren stares lovingly at his meal, rubs his hands together, and begins to eat.  

As he digs into his gyozas, Nanami heads to the breakroom down the hall to make himself a cup of hot tea. Damn, that looked good. Need to remember to find another bakery that has ham and cheese sandwiches, he thinks to himself, waiting for the hot water to dispense into his mug.

He comes back to the conference room, freshly brewed tea in hand, and finds Ren pointing at his bento, mouth full as he muffles, “Want some?”

Shaking his head, he declines. “No thank you. I’m fine with my tea.” He pauses to think. Then he adds, “Looks good, though.”

He swallows before proudly announcing, “My sister made it! It’s something new she’s trying.” He hums happily as he bites into one of the meat octopi. The salad has been skillfully avoided, causing Nanami to smile for a fraction of a second before he catches himself.

He watches his student, all while taking a few sips of his tea. “Do you live with your sister currently? I heard that your hometown is outside Tokyo.”

“Yeah I do. She lives 10 minutes from here, so it’s convenient. I know I’ll have to move into the dorms on campus, if I get accepted that is. It’ll be nice to have my sister nearby, though. Even if she doesn’t know about any of this.” Ren frowns slightly. Perhaps it’s guilt? Nanami assumes that his sister is a non-sorcerer, based on what Gojo told him about his family situation. He also assumes that she isn’t fully aware of what her brother is now involved in. 

He takes another sip of his tea, unsure how to respond since he has little experience explaining Jujutsu Sorcery to non-sorcerers. In fact, he’s made sure to keep his personal life completely separate from his work. That’s how it was when he was a salaryman, that’s how it is in his current profession. He even swore to himself that he wouldn’t get married while he is still working as a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Maybe this is also an excuse to avoid the awkward dating scene that he finds so tiresome.

“Are you sure you don’t want any?” Ren asks, pointing at the remainder of the meal, which is just leafy greens. 

Downing the rest of his hot beverage, Nanami replies, “No thank you. I’m fine.” He looks at his watch. “Actually, let’s call it a day. I don’t want to overwhelm you on your first lesson. We can continue tomorrow.”

Ren stands up from his seat and rubs his belly. “Sure, sounds good! I’ll review my notes tonight and ask any other questions tomorrow.” A burp escapes his mouth, and he looks nervously at his mentor. “Sorry,” he mutters.

Nanami rolls his eyes, still hidden behind his spectacles, ignoring the crude belch. “I’ll see you tomorrow at 9 AM. Please don’t be late.” He remains seated as Ren stuffs his belongings into his bag and waves goodbye out the door. 

Removing his glasses, he leans his head further back on his chair and closes his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his left hand. It’s been a while since he’s taught a lesson, and he’s not accustomed to talking so much. Human interaction can be just as exhausting as fighting off weak curses. Frankly, it’s overwhelming for him at times, being a man of few words on a regular basis.

He opens his eyes and sighs deeply, looking around at the empty room. All alone once again. 

--------------------

Tag List: @liliorsstuff-blog (appreciate you! ❤️)

[malaks-perch]

your eeka

muriel x reader

the mountain man doesn't go out of his way for most people, but you're the exception

warnings: none i think, it's muriel, the most i should warn you about is jealous muriel? super fluff???

muriel allowed you to stay with him being that asra had left yet again. believe me when i say that he was not happy when you'd first showed up uninvited to his home. maybe it was when you tripped over his chicken. he seemed particularly annoyed with you then.

the tension had eased some. there was no doubt in your mind that it had. it wasn't the fact he would give advice when you whittled some nights. it wasn't how he would cook a little too much for both him and inanna.

it was what he did today.

inanna was already quite pleased with your visits to the hut. often times she would sleep with you by the fire when you found yourself worn from helping muriel with his chores. but winter had come a little earlier in vesuvia this year.

usually, sleeping on the cushions and collected fabrics in front of the fire was enough for you but last night was particularly cold. it was nothing you couldn't handle as you snuggled into inanna who simply curled into you.

this morning. this morning, you woke up with that cloak muriel wore nearly all the time. the ripped fabric was so worn down that it was soft to the touch. inanna was still curled into you, her head resting beside yours with some of the blanket covering her haunches.

you sat up and replaced the fabric wrapped around inanna with one that you laid on. creeping towards the door and sliding out as to not wake up inanna.

but when you turned and found muriel crouching in the snow, you forced a hand over your mouth to stop the oncoming gasp.

muriel was crouched in front of a deer the size of a horse. it stood alert, two nubs sitting between ears that were turned in your direction. it stared you down when muriel noticed the baffled look on your face.

"it's so pretty.." your voice was nothing more than a whisper as you clutched the makeshift cloak to your shoulders.

muriel turned to open his palm a little wider to the deer. it cautiously eyed you as it leaned down to eat whatever it was from muriel's hand.

"what is it?"

muriel lifted his other hand. his finger brushing the ear of the animal, making it twitch before it went back to where it was turned in your direction.

"reindeers from the north." muriel gently let his fingers run over it's head and watching it with the smallest of smiles. "she usually stops by time vesuvia gets winter."

you inched forward, going as far as the deer would let you without getting too overwhelmed.

she inched over to you, the snout only a hair away as the deer sniffed your face and trailed to get a whiff of your body.

"what is she doing?" you winced only making the deer press on, now moving the blanket as you let your body fall back into the snow.

without a word, muriel stood up catching the doe's attention. he turned to walk toward the abandoned chicken coop and scooped up a bag of feed.

the female deer eagerly approached the mountain man when barking sounded from the hut. it took off, running into the forest upon being startled.

your feet were moving to keep up with the doe that was quickly disappearing into the woods, but a tug on your clothes kept you from moving.

"inanna—" your voice died upon seeing a large hand wrapped in the dark fabric clutched to your shoulders.

muriel's usual apathy was replaced with something that looked akin to worry. a faint pink colored his cheeks, but it was assumed it was from being out in the snow.

"thanks. for the cloak i mean!" you smiled, starting to peel off the fabric when muriel shook his head, turning his eyes away from you.

"you'll get sick." his voice low as his fingers toyed with the dark green pants he wore.

"did you name her?" your sudden question making him ponder a moment, glancing at you before nudging snow on the ground.

"eeka." he muttered, "thats the sound she makes when she runs."

muriel's evergreen eyes flickering up at you he nudged you towards his hut. the visitor definitely had you wide awake now, but your mind was still foggy with thoughts of sleep. you watched him for a moment trying to get your bearings.

he wore a shirt. one asra gifted him with, a simple black long sleeve that made every curve of muscle on him.

"w-why are you staring at me?" muriel's voice snapped you back to reality and understand just how long you'd been staring.

you unfurled his cloak from your shoulders, "your shirt looks nice."

muriel grunted out his thanks. something nudged your legs and you peered down to find inanna looking up at you. never had she looked so smug. you scratched her head.

"thank you." you held out muriel's cloak, "i didn't think i needed a blanket."

"you were shivering and inanna was worried." he muttered, putting another log on the fire. doing anything to distract himself from your presence.

"inanna was worried?" you smiled, plopping down on the bed and inanna came up to you, setting her head on your knees with a whine. "aww, he didn't care, 'nana?"

from the corner of your eye, muriel flustered, turning his head away from you, "i care when you're not teasing me." he grumbled.

you laughed, rubbing up inanna's neck so she let out a pleased whine. if you hadn't come up from staring into inanna's face then you wouldn't have been able to see the small smile on muriel's face as he fiddled with the wooden figurines across the room.

"do you.. can.. c-can i show you something?" muriel asked, turning his head away from you.

in the months you've been visiting him, never had muriel directly offered you anything.

he blushed deeper upon seeing your eyes light up, practically buzzing with excitement from where you were perched on his bed.

this was how you ended up following muriel through the forest. he insisted that inanna stay home today for the sake of what he refused to call a surprise.

both of you trekked through snow, muriel was easily walking as if nothing had changed, but you were tripping over yourself. your foot catching buried roots and rocks every so often.

muriel stopped and motioned ahead of you to an opening in the trees. it seemed as if all the breath had escaped your lungs.

there in a clearing stood an entire herd of reindeer. muriel ventured out into the clearing and sat down on one of the boulders peeking out of the snow. you cautiously followed as the herd's attention turned to you.

"muriel.." you whispered, hands shaking as you slowed your walk.

he slid over on the boulder, "if you sit, they won't think you're a predator."

you sat on the cold rock, pressing into the mountain man as the does began coming towards you. eeka was practically trotting over, but the sight of the other much larger females approaching made you nervous.

"why are they getting closer?"

muriel held up a burlap sack, a small smile on his face when eeka started sniffing his face and hands. "you didn't get a chance to feed eeka."

your stomach errupted into butterflies and your heart swelled, but upon being surrounded by creatures much larger than you, anxiety forcing you to grab at muriel's sleeve.

muriel opened his hand, allowing one of the deer to eat from his palm.

with wide eyes, you watched as muriel, with all the confidence in the world, fed the female reindeer. he glanced at you, a shy smile on his face as he held out the sack to you. "do you want to try?"

you tentatively reached into the sack and let the grainy chicken feed spread in your palm. almost immediately after you brought it from your chest, two of the reindeer started feasting from your hand.

you were unaware of how you were leaning closer into muriel's side. he noticed, watching you intently. he saw the way you were smiling and gazing at the deer with the same bright eyes you gave him.

suddenly he was envious of the deer, but before he could say anything, the doe you were feeding swiftly jumped away. you watched them scamper over to muriel when you noticed the mountain man's wide eyes. he stared at something behind you.

a stag, twice the size of the doe leaned down to eat from your hand. it's wide antlers keeping the doe from reaching the food in your palm and framing your body, unintentionally distancing you from muriel.

it snorted upon lifting its face to yours and sniffed at your cheeks before standing upright. it curled it's head around you and gave a firm push so you stood upright.

it nudged you toward the rest of the herd that grazed further into clearing when it jolted and swung it's antlers behind you.

muriel was standing, never flinching as the antlers were directed at him. his arms falling to his side when he met eyes with you.

his green eyes had taken the same tone as grass in spring, bright and lively except the worry that creased his brows made you falter.

"what's wrong?"

"he.. he wants you to.. uh..." his arms hesitantly reaching for you, "join his herd.."

"oh.." you turned and set a hand on the neck of the stag. it stared at you, snorting and pawing the ground. "i'm sorry."

you stepped around the deer and stopped at muriel's side, making the mountain man ease a little now that you knew about the stag's intentions.

but when the stag stepped forward you tensed until muriel did the unexpected.

his arms wrapped around your waist and pulling you flush to his front. when you looked up, his eyes were set in a glare, his hold tightening on you as he took a cautious step back.

the stag had ran off, but you were still captivated by the abnormal dominant side. you didn't realize you were staring until muriel's eyes had met yours.

back to their original shade and free of worry. you set a hand over his arm, smiling up at him. "not worried, huh?"

muriel flushed and let you go, picking up the chicken feed as fresh snow began to shower down from the sky. he muttered about it getting cold, glancing back at you, an invitation to follow him.

you hurried along, ducking under his arm and pressing into his side with a smile.

"in case that big deer comes back."

he rolled his eyes, turning his head. he didn't pull away, but he did in fact hide his smile.

[miss-bridgerton]

for real l anthony bridgerton x you l part one

word count: 1,887 words

pairing: anthony bridgerton x you

author’s note: part 1 finally! it’s not much going on, but this is just the beginning. 

taglist: @fact-fictionx @alainabooks143 @michael-loves-chickens @misstonybridgerton

summary: Everyone knew that the Viscount was a rake. Except for, apparently, three young women who clung to his every word. Anthony Bridgerton was in fact charming. But he was absolutely terrible at dating three women at once. Some would call him a dunce for doing so. Others might call him a hero. Adelia Byron called him dead when she found out. Set out on revenge, she and the other two young ladies, Bette DuPont and Siena Rosso, decide to transform a lonely bakers girl into someone who can break the heart of the Viscount.

            PART 1: THE SOCIETY PAPER THAT CAUSED A SCENE

YOU HAD NO IDEA that a gossip column would be the cause of a brawl in your family’s tea shop and bakery: The Fancy Teapot.

Overly priced earl grey tea? Oh, absolutely.

Chairs that pinched the bottoms of debutantes and their mammas? Pinched bottoms surely caused nasty sneers a plenty.

But the latest gossip from the squares’ paper? You certainly didn’t see that coming.

It was all because of the Viscount. Lord Anthony Bridgerton was indeed charming. He had that smile that they all seemed to fawn over. His hair was swept in all the right places. And he was a British nobleman.

What more could a young lady want?

You rolled your eyes at the words that frequented that paper. What more could a young lady want? Well, for starters, you wanted freedom. You wanted to bake. You wanted to explore different cities. Eat exotic foods. Tell stories to your future nieces and nephews of your adventures. You didn’t care about marriage, no matter how many times your sister-in-law pushed it on to you. You just simply wanted to. . .experience life.

Unlike the young women who frequented The Fancy Teapot. They were all scouring for eligible unmarried men. It was what they were taught. It was all that they knew, really. 

And two debutantes who enjoyed sipping tea in The Fancy Teapot had no idea that they were both courting the Viscount. Until it came out on paper, that is.

It was a sunny spring morning and the social season had sprung in London. You loved the social season for the money it brought the tea shop, but you absolutely loathed the social season for the debutantes and their snooty behavior. They were all perfect. Beautiful gowns. Rosy pinched cheeks. The stink of wealth swarmed them like bees attracted to honey.

You had none of those things. You came from a working family. You came from two different countries. Your father had travelled to (a country of your choosing) where he met your mother and they fell in love and married within a week of him being there. Your father had convinced your mother to leave everything behind to be with him in London, but her one condition was to open a tea shop and bakery. 

He clung to his part of the condition. Soon after opening the shop, your older brother Jack was born. Five years later, you were born. For a short while, it was the four of you. Kids running through the tea shop, experimenting with teas, you found the love of baking with your mother, and your parents were still so madly in love it was almost embarrassing. Sadly, your mother became ill and passed away two years ago. 

The death was stricken. And hard on you. But it was your father that you and Jack worried after, for it was almost as if he became a different person. As if he lost a part of himself when your mother died. He tried to drink his sorrows away at the pubs, and fancied spending too much money on gambles and bets. 

That morning, he was nowhere near the tea shop, probably somewhere betting on poker chips, when you had to break apart two debutantes from nearly mauling each other.

Adelia Byron was with her friend, Cressida Cowper, at a small table near the colossal windows. She didn’t say thank you or even acknowledged your existence when you set down her steaming chamomile tea and slice of cornish hevva cake. You rolled your eyes at the way she gloated over the attention she received at the Warwick ball. Adelia was still on a thrill from two nights before, where the touch of the Viscount’s hand on her back as they danced was still on her. She dreamt of his gorgeous eyes. And when she saw the bouquets of roses addressed to her that morning, she was in total bliss.

Her friend, Cressida, was jealous. Adelia knew it. And if there was something Adelia Byron was known for, it was that she enjoyed bragging. Her father was a Baron, which made her quite eligible for marriage to a Viscount. She had elegant features: Dark red hair, stormy eyes, high cheek-bones. She had already received three proposals but Adelia knew what she wanted. Who she wanted.

Simply put, nobody else would do. She was going to marry the Viscount. And God help her and anyone who got in her way. 

On the other side of The Fancy Teapot, situated at a round table underneath an elegant painting by your brother Jack, was Elizabeth DuPont and her overbearing mother, Colette. Elizabeth, often called Bette, was the daughter of The Marquess of DuPont. So her marriage to a man of great wealth and a powerful title was extremely vital. To her mother, at least.

Bette was fond of the Viscount. He swept her away with his words, he was impressed with the way she could speak French and German, and the kiss he laid upon her gloved hand sent a thrill through her body. She couldn’t bear to tell her mother that when she went out to the balcony for a quick breath of fresh air during the Warwick Ball, she was accompanied by Lord Anthony Bridgerton.

Her mother would have been furious. She wanted Bette to charm the Prince - not the Viscount. She wanted her daughter to marry a title higher, not a title lower. 

You had just set down two tea cups of herbal tea at their table when one of the young newsie boys stopped by the Fancy Teapot to drop off the new Society Paper. 

“Hey, Sam,” you greeted the ten year old boy. He often was the one who sauntered in here to deliver the paper and he did it eagerly, knowing fully well that you were going to give him some free wrapped biscuits, like always.

“Y/N!” He greeted with a boyish grin. “What’s on the menu today? I hope it's something drowned in sugar!” He said excitedly.

You laughed and grabbed the box of warm treacle tarts from under the front counter. “It’s not drowned in sugar, but I think you’ll still enjoy them,” you told him.

He grinned widely. “You’re a real magician, Miss Y/L/N!”

You smiled warmly as the little boy went off and you were so busy handing over his desserts that you didn’t even notice, Dorothea, your sister-in-law, completely captivated by the latest Lady Whistledown’s writings.

“Bloody Hell,” she muttered, leaning her back against the counter and reading the paper. A mama and her daughter were standing by the counter, awaiting some assistance and looking very peevish. You sighed at how unobservant Dorothea was.

You took care of the customers and then turned to Dorothea, who looked as if she had acquired the most scandalous news.

“Y/N! Have you read this yet? It’s so scandalous!”

“No,” you replied, though you were a bit curious. “Who is it about?”

“The Viscount.”

“Hard pass,” you replied.

Dorothea rolled her eyes. “You are impossible. It’s not just about him but about the women he’s apparently leading on. And,” she took a moment to look around the tea shop and then in a hushed tone continued, “two of them are in here. Right now. Unaware of all of it!”

Well, surely just a peak at the new Society Paper wouldn’t do any harm. You grabbed the paper and took a look:

At the Warwick ball Thursday evening, Viscount Bridgerton was seen dancing with not one eligible young lady, but two. Now, I assume you dear readers know quite the reputation of our charming Viscount, as this behavior isn’t quite unusual. If you are familiar with the season’s doings, dancing with eligible suitors is normal.

Except Lord Anthony Bridgerton was seen with Miss Bette DuPont awfully close on the brink of the balcony and also seen later that evening with a certain opera singer, Siena Rosso, nuzzling her neck in a dark corner of the opera house.

How will the ladies take this embarrassment? Well, this author predicts that Miss Bette DuPont will turn a rather shade red and Miss Adelia Byron’s eyes will flash with a colour quite similar. Miss Siena Rosso will probably be locked up in a bedroom with the Viscount to even notice.

LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS,16 APRIL 1814

Oh, brother, you thought. This better not cause anything stupid in here -

“HOW DARE YOU!!!!”

You and Dorothea looked up in bewilderment at the sudden outburst. And there it was. Lady Adelia Byron, looking absolutely furious, clutching the society paper, and standing over Lady Bette DuPont who was sitting at her table, looking between a mix of surprise and confusion.

“I beg your pardon?” Bette said to her appalled. 

“You!” Adelia yelled. “You are involved with my suitor! How dare you?! You - you - harlot!”

Bette’s jaw dropped but it was her mother who spoke. “My, I never! That is quite unladylike behavior, young lady. My Elizabeth is not some harlot, clearly you cannot read because you have been thoroughly mistaken.”

Adelia rolled her stormy eyes and handed over the paper. Bette hastily read it before gasping, throwing a pretty gloved hand over her mouth.

“This cannot be true. My Lord would never do such things.” Bette told her.

“My Lord?” Adelia mocked. “He’s not your anything. I am going to marry him. So this little rendezvous is finished.”

Bette raised a brow. “I don’t think so,” she simply replied and took a sip of her tea.

Adelia looked as if she was going to chuck that steaming tea pot at the young lady’s head, so you had no choice - you had to get involved.

“Ladies, please, there is no need to act in such a manner,” you told them. They both looked in your direction, looking at you as if you were just a nobody. As if they were thinking, who the hell are you and who makes you think you have any say in this?

You cleared your throat. “He’s just a man,” you tried to explain.

Adelia snorted. “Idiot,” she said under her breath.

You narrowed your eyes at her. “You know, instead of getting mad at each other for something neither of you two were unaware of, you should be mad at him. Instead you are fighting over the tosser. Now that is an idiot.”

Both girls’ jaws dropped at what you said. But both didn’t say anything in retaliation. Instead, Adelia lifted her head high and walked away with what dignity she possessed and Bette went back to her tea, ignoring her mother’s angry stares.

Dorothea was nearly bursting in astonishment and the tea shop, which went quiet during the whole argument, went back to the bustling noise it always had.

All went back to normal. Until later that evening. 

While you were cleaning up and closing down The Fancy Teapot for the day, you found a folded napkin at the same table that Adelia Byron sat with Cressida Cowper. Inside was a perfectly scrawled note addressed to you.

Not many people can inspire me, but you, Miss Bakery girl, did. Visit my estate as soon as you can manage. We have a lot to discuss.

X Miss Adelia Byron

[murderbabies]

Listen I know people say Kaz loves dogs but may I just suggest - Kaz slowly earning the trust of a feral cat who is just as weary of people as he once was:

(inspired by my own experience with a feral cat - with a little Kanej thrown in there because who do you think i am - and dedicated to my lovely murder wife @vampirewifee)

Kaz would often leave scraps out on the windowsill for the crows, but also as a sort of security system to make sure no one had tried to come in to his office (other than Inej of course)

But one day the window's left open while he steps out of his office for a minute and, when he comes back, he notices that two of the sausages have mysteriously gone missing from his plate by the windowsill.

The next day he leaves out a slice of chicken liver on the windowsill. Two hours later, out of the corner of his eye, he catches a black shadow race across the window. By the time he's made his way across the room, the figure, and the liver, is gone.

He thinks about bringing it up to Inej but instead decides to take on this little investigation himself. He will not be outbested by a simple chicken thief, and really what's another mystery to solve?

Three days later he sees it. A black cat, tail missing, left ear half bitten off from a scrap years ago, slowly making its way across the neighbouring roof. The second he makes eye contact with it, it raises its hackles and hisses at him.

"Nothing to fear little mutt. Want some turkey?" Kaz whispers, slowly reaching for his half eaten sandwich. But before he can make it to his desk the cat's disappeared. Kaz chuckles to himself. He knows all about his companions pulling off disappearing acts.

For the next week he keeps a small bag of cat treats in the pocket of his waistcoat. The local stray cats have started following him around. All but one specific midnight feral cat.

The only sign that he hadn't imagined the whole thing is the fact that the slice of tenderloin he leaves out every night (which he personally collects from the butchers every evening), is gone by the time he walks past the window on the way to get his third (or maybe fourth) mug of coffee for the night.

A fortnight later the offerings of the butcher's finest have increased to twice a day. Sometimes, if he's lucky, he'll catch a glimpse of the cursed thing. But only when the window's shut does it actually stay long enough for him to see, yellow eyes locked on his own. Daring him to come closer.

But Kaz only takes this a challenge. And by Ghezen does he love a challenge.

Finally, after two laborious months of sitting silently at the window, barely twitching a muscle, can he finally sit within reaching distance of the mangy thing without being hissed at. And yet he still makes no attempt to pet it. Not yet.

The Dregs have begun to notice the black cat slinking around the Slat windows. They toss it their lunch scraps, but none of them dare get any closer. Not after Rotty chanced it that one time and had to get 13 stitches on his palm. He was lucky not to lose his index finger.

One night, after a particularly rough mission that almost cost Kaz months of planning, he hears a scratching at the window.

Slowly he opens up to find the blasted cat. It hesitantly makes its way onto the bench right by the window. Still hissing. Its hind leg held up, clearly injured.

Kaz calls out to Anika to fetch for a medik. But as soon as she reaches the door of the office, the stupid cat bolts back out the window, still injured, into the night.

Kaz had almost resigned himself to never seeing the cursed thing again after Anika's stunt but lo and behold, three days later it makes a reappearance. The injured leg is in much worse shape and, despite the years spent on the streets in the Barrel, Kaz can't help but feel his throat tighten at what's been done to this creature.

Pushing away his thoughts he springs into action - shutting the window closed to prevent the thing from pulling another runner. By some miracle sent from one of Inej's Saints Kaz manages to hold the creature long enough, yowling the whole time but not fighting back, for the medik to come.

At first the cat refuses to be tended to by the medik, hissing and scratching, until Kaz plants himself right beside it, whispering soothingly. Not knowing what to say exactly, Kaz opts to give an account of the Merchant Council's tradings in the last quarter. But it seems to work nevertheless and the beast stills.

Several long hours, a hoarse throat, and a nearly blinded eye on the medik's part later, the broken leg is finally treated and bandaged up. Inej speaks to the medik outside while Kaz treats the cat with little bites from the pound of turkey breast he had Pim fetch from the butcher's. She's told that the cat will recover just fine but that the delay in getting treated means that the leg didn't set quite right. "It seems we've got a mini Kaz on our hands now," Inej smiles to herself as she recounts the news to Kaz. Kaz is just glad the cat was saved, although he'd never admit it aloud.

As it recovers, the cat becomes a common presence around the Slat, although it still hesitantly sticks to the shadowed doorways and hisses at anyone but Kaz. Sometimes even Kaz.

Inej grumbles about Kaz being the only one the thing doesn't hiss at. "Jealous Wraith?" Kaz laughs, eyes twinkling.

The ebony cat often sits precariously on the cabinet by the window, but it still gets skittery when the window's closed at times. Kaz chuckles to himself about it. "I know someone else with a penchant for quick rooftop escapes".

But ever so slowly, it begins to get comfortable around Inej. The first time Inej climbed in through the window while the cat was inside the closed office, it went crazy - its only exit route blocked with no way out. But eventually it grows accustomed to Inej's presence at the window. The catnip Inej always has on hand definitely helps.

One evening though, as the sun's almost completely dipped beneath the harbour, Inej begins to hear a low rumble. Her eyes snap to Kaz and his eyes are just as wide as hers. He hears it too. An unmistakable purr coming from the cat perched on the window across from Inej. Eyes closed, face turned towards the last warm streaks of disappearing light.

It's months later and the cat has become Kaz's second shadow (or third, depending on who you're talking to). He refuses to give it a name, referring to it exclusively as "Cat", "Chicken Thief", "Mangy Thing" and a slew of other apathetic descriptors. But Inej isn't at all fooled by Kaz's air of disdain - not when she's seen the portion of funds he spends on the best cuts of meat every month. She's even caught him cooing at the thing in the dead of night a couple times.

One day Inej grows tired of the odour emanating off the once feral cat and decides to haul both it and Kaz (who are both inexplicably hissing) into the bathroom to get them both cleaned up, because in Inej's words, "If you won't rest like a functioning human, the least you can do is smell like one".

However the only time Kaz actually sleeps is when the cat is sitting on his lap. Despite the museum blueprint he's been working on for three days straight, the purring lulls him into a quiet sleep and he wakes up feeling better rested than he has in years. It eventually becomes a habit and Kaz cannot drift off without that familiar weight on his chest rumbling quietly.

[poetrusicperry]

Running Towards Nothing

Chapter One

a/n: hello !! @noelliza and i fleshed out an idea about if todd came from out of state (specifically, somewhere in the southern united states) to attend welton, so i wrote it heh. i’m not sure how many parts this will be (if people like it enough for me to continue posting lol), but i have the first like... five written haha. so yes, todd is from the south (alabama) and i don’t know much about the south bc i'm from the west coast, but i tried haha. hope you guys like it !! xx

chapter summary: something in todd’s past is the reason for his family’s move, leading to a new neighborhood, a new school, a roommate he was never expecting, and an overall shift in his life.

pairing: todd anderson x neil perry

warnings: none (i don’t think there are any in this chapter, but if anyone spots something, let me know !)

word count: 2479

–

        If there was one thing Todd missed about home, it was the sky; the sun set differently over the rolling hills of Vermont than the grassy fields of Alabama. He was used to seeing all of the elongated, blue canvas sky that melted into bright shades of pink and orange along the horizon; there was nothing in the way of the creation, just a plain view of where the heavens met the earth. In the northeast, however, the sunset snagged on the seemingly-black pointed edges of trees and lush branches, interrupting the gradient leaving only soft blue and speckles of marigold.

        But he had experienced his last Alabama sunset two days ago, and there was no going back. Not for a really, really long time (if ever). After the events of the past few months, there was no way Todd could ever show his face again, even if he really wanted to. Now, Todd Anderson and his family were living in the suburbs of Vermont, where, as his parents hoped, the past would stay hidden and they could build a new façade for the one Todd had recently, though unintentionally, demolished.

        As Todd sat on the floor of his new, empty room, surrounded only by boxes and his bed (which didn’t have a box spring or frame yet), he gazed out of his window forlornly. Through the toothbrush-tipped trees that were jam packed along his new horizon, he could make out the silhouette of a church’s steeple. One that, no doubt, would be frequented by his mother and father while his brother, Jeffrey, was out of state at college, and Todd himself attended the prep school just a few blocks down the road. Out of all the cities in Vermont, Todd’s parents had picked the one with the lowest population and tourist pull, which meant not a lot of people inhabiting the city. However, on the flipside, there wasn’t a wide variety of schools to choose from. Back in Alabama, Todd had attended his local public high school, Nixon, and would have been an incoming senior there if certain... events hadn’t occurred. Instead, Todd was now forced to continue his education at what was deemed “the best all boys prep school in the United States” by his parents and surrounding boarding schools (no pressure).

        Todd’s mind wandered through the recent weeks, pulling apart everything that had happened like rotten cotton candy. This was his life now: a new state, a new town, a new school, brand new everything. And yet, Todd felt stuck between wanting to start over and aching to hold onto his old life. If those five seconds could have gone differently, he’d be preparing for his first day of senior year with all his friends at Nixon. But his friends would never speak to him again, and he’d never walk the halls of Nixon High School ever again. Todd wondered what he could possibly be holding onto? There was nothing in a place he considered home and nothing in a new place that would likely never be home. So much of his past, he wanted to leave behind, but he just… knew that he couldn’t.

        As he reached into the open box beside him, there was a knock on the door. When Todd didn’t answer, the door cracked open, revealing the familiar face of his older brother.

        “Hey, I was going to go on a drive around town, maybe see some of the cool hangout spots if you wanted to come. I know I’m leaving for school in a couple weeks, but might as well check out some places anyway?”

        Jeff always had a way of talking to Todd gently, never with any hints of condescension in his tone. After all, Jeff was the only person in the house who ever acknowledged Todd’s existence. And after everything that had happened, Todd was certain he was no closer to gaining support from his parents than a couple months prior; in fact, he’d been quite sure he was further from garnering any cent of respect, let alone support.

        “Oh, uh… right now?” Todd spoke, barely above a whisper. He knew he didn’t need to feel embarrassed or nervous around Jeff, but that’s just how things were for him now. Anything he said or did felt… wrong, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

        “Yeah, I think Mom and Dad went to pick up some dinner, so I was just thinking that we could head out for a few minutes. Maybe get a little familiar with town and stuff,” Jeff smiled at Todd, his perfectly straight teeth somehow still gleaming in the darkening light of Todd’s room, “Come on, I know you probably don’t feel up to it, but it’d be better than sitting in here while it progressively gets darker,” Jeff attempted to joke, laughing slightly.

        Todd gave him a half smile, half grimace, “Alright. Think I need a jacket?”

        “Want to drive with the top down, so probably,” Jeff smiled, smacking the doorway and turning down the hallway, “Leaving in five!” he called down the hall as he went.

        While they rode leisurely around town, Todd kept his head mostly turned to the side, leaning his cheek on his arm and taking in all the things they drove past. Lots of houses on moderate pieces of land lined the streets; they were nothing like the spacious farms and open pastures of Alabama. Up until recently, Todd had always considered the south home. But truth be told, he wasn’t sure what home was anymore.

        “Oh, sweet, Todd, look! There’s an arcade!” Jeff patted Todd’s shoulder with the back of his hand as he cruised down the street. The big neon lights were hanging over a brick building spelling “GAMES & POOL.” It looked like the marquees Todd had seen of New York City in the magazines. He just nodded at his brother’s sentiment as they pulled up to the red light. Glancing up at the bright sign once more, his gaze was torn away when the door to the arcade opened, revealing five lanky boys spilling out onto the sidewalk.

        “I told you I was going to beat the high score and you punks didn’t believe me!” one with sandy hair said, walking backwards and facing his friends. His face was twisted into a mischievous grin and his voice ricocheted across the street as the boys seemed to be making their way to the movie theatre a few doors down.

        “Charlie, no one cares that you beat the high score,” the tallest one replied; Todd noticed he had a flattop haircut, which is something no one in Alabama would have ever had; Todd thought it looked neat. The flattop’s sentiment earned a chuckle from all the boys, but a particularly loud laugh from a tall, dark-haired boy standing toward the front of the group. He wore beige slacks and a tucked in red flannel with black and white hi-top Chuck Taylor’s. And Todd noticed his dimples were deep into his cheeks while he laughed. As the boys walked down the sidewalk to the theatre ticket vestibule, the light turned green and Jeff began to drive. As the car passed the group, the dark-haired boy looked up and locked eyes with Todd.

        “Neil, still five for Gidget?” the ginger one with glasses said. The dark-haired boy (who Todd could now assume was Neil) held Todd’s gaze for a couple more seconds before tearing his eyes away and nodding at his friend. Todd’s cheeks were ablaze as Jeff drove further away. Trying to not move his head, Todd simply looked back at the boys in the side mirror until they were simply blobbed figures standing under the light of the theatre.

        When Todd and Jeff arrived home, their parents’ car was in the driveway, and the light in the kitchen was on.

        “Hope you’re hungry,” Jeff turned to Todd as he switched the engine off. He just looked at Jeff blankly; his appetite had still not returned, so he didn’t feel hungry much anymore, “I know I am,” Jeff smiled, ruffling Todd’s hair and easing the tension between them. He nodded a little bit and opened the door, Jeff doing the same. As Jeff made his way up the steps, Todd trailed behind him, not wanting to be the first person his parents saw.

        “Jeffy, is that you?” his mother’s voice called from the kitchen.

        “Yeah, Mom, we just went to check out the neighborhood a bit,” Jeff called, slowing his pace, falling into step with Todd and slinging his arm around his little brother’s shoulder.

        “Dinner’s on the table, dear,” she replied as the boys walked into the dining room.

        “Smells good, Ma,” Jeff smiled, taking his seat at the table after patting Todd’s shoulder. Todd sat down tentatively and stared at the spread in front of him. His parents had gotten KFC for the second night in a row, and Todd was about as excited as he was the first time (that being not at all).

        “I know we had it last night, but it really just reminds me of the food back home,” his mother said, pulling her napkin into her lap.

        “You boys eat up, now,” his father said, gesturing to the bucket of chicken and sides in front of the pair. Jeff grabbed his food, and took extra care to offer Todd all of the things he picked up for himself. While their parents busied themselves in a conversation about the pie their neighbors had dropped off, Jeff nudged Todd lightly,

        “Look, I know you’re not hungry, but have a biscuit at least, okay?” he muttered and held one out to his younger brother. Todd took it hesitantly, put it in the middle of his plate, and stared at it, “Come on, Todd. Please,” Jeff mumbled again.

        “What’s that, Jeffrey?” his father turned to him.

        “Oh, nothing, Pop, just telling Todd to have some dinner,” Jeff smiled small. Todd’s father looked at him with disgust.

        “Eat,” he grunted. At the timbre of his father’s voice, Todd flinched slightly and picked off a part of the biscuit to nibble on while the conversation turned to Jeff’s plans for the fall semester. Fading into the background (as usual), Todd tuned out the conversation and focused really hard on his white Chuck Taylor’s, getting a flash of the tall, dark-haired boy’s face in his mind. Neil. Shaking his head slightly, Todd adjusted his gaze to the plate in front of him and waited for another painful dinner to end.

        When the summer had wound down and the weeks in Vermont had become more familiar, Todd’s parents had busied themselves with getting Jeff ready for dorm move-in and paying little, if any, attention to Todd. Currently, Todd was up in his room, preparing for convocation the next day. Jeffrey had left the past Thursday, driving up on his own. He had told Todd to not take everything so seriously and to do the best he could (because he knew that Todd was capable of a lot of things). He also mentioned that he was just a call away if Todd ever needed anything (he wrote his telephone number onto a scrap of paper). Todd had searched the arcade and the theatre a couple times in the hopes of running into the group of boys he had seen on their second night in town, but to no avail.

        Sitting in front of the mirror, Todd analyzed himself. His hair had grown out kind of long, and his mother hadn’t taken him to get it cut, so he’d have to deal with that, but everything else looked normal. Things certainly didn’t feel normal, but he was used to the discomfort by now. The only thing he was truly worried about was his stupid accent. He’d spent the last few weeks hanging around diners and spots with Jeff, and hadn’t heard a single southern accent. He knew his drawl would just make him appear stupid to all these super educated kids, so he’d put a lot of effort into controlling it. He was actually doing okay at it, he just needed to make sure he didn’t slip up. Todd didn’t need any aspect of his personality or appearance to be called attention to. He got up from the floor and crawled into bed, dreading what the next day and year would bring.

        Convocation turtled by, two hours of sitting in a church pew and listening to some headmaster spout of statistics that Todd didn’t care about. As far as he was concerned, he wanted to finish his senior year and get the hell out of here; Todd had always wanted to go to California, but his parents told him it was a pipe dream (“After the stunt you pulled in Alabama, we won’t be funding your college anywhere!” his father had yelled).

        “Ah, Mr. Anderson, is it?” the headmaster questioned when it was Todd’s turn to be introduced after the ceremony.

        “U-uh, yes sir,” he mumbled.

        “Well, we don’t normally take public school transfers, but you will fit in well here. Any major problems you let me know,” he shook Todd’s hand rather harshly.

        “Thank you, sir,” he nodded and moved along.

        Feeling his chest start to tighten, Todd made his way out onto the grass where he sat down against a tree and waited for his parents. After an uncomfortable and awkward goodbye with them, he roamed the grounds a little bit, practicing his newly-fashioned accent quietly to himself. As he rounded a corner to the courtyard, he bumped shoulders with a boy, and turned to apologize, dead-set on making his southern accent unknown (or as unknown as it could be).

        “Ope- sorry about that,” the boy laughed nervously. When Todd looked up at him, it was the boy from outside the arcade all those weeks ago. Shit.

        “S-sorry,” Todd mumbled. The boy nodded a little bit.

        “It’s all good. I’m Neil Perry,” he smiled, holding out his hand, seemingly unaware or forgetting of the fact that they’d seen each other before.

        “Todd Anderson,” he manipulated his tongue to sit flatter in his mouth, so as not to let slip his Alabaman background. He had trouble looking into Neil’s eyes, but when he got a good look, he realized they were dark, dark brown and incredibly deep.

        “Oh, that’s you? I think that makes us roommates,” Neil said, patting Todd on the shoulder. Oh no, Todd thought, his cheeks flushing. Stop it, he thought to himself and cleared his throat.

        “Oh… cool,” Todd nodded a little bit and pursed his lips.

        “I gotta get going. See you soon!” he patted Todd’s shoulder again and took off in the direction he had been going when Todd bumped into him.

        Yep, Todd sighed. This is going to be a long year.

tagging some people (especially those of you who said i should post this heh): @queertoddanderson @babytoddanderson @cupiiid @justarandompjofan @charliedaltonofficial @pretentious-strikes @aedan-mills 

and a big thank you to @noelliza as always bc she’s the best and reads all my stuff before i even think about putting it anywhere on the internet lol <3

[cas-backwards-tie]

CopyCat

Five Hargreeves x Reader

Request: prompts “don’t be afraid, trust me.” and  i’ll be here, no matter what.” from the misc sentences. Can Five and the reader have a moment like Luther and Allison did in S2E10? Where the reader tries to use her powers to fight Lila but she uses them against her and she almost dies but Five helps her out like Luther did with Allison. Basically a loving and protective Five and make it fluffy af please thank you!

Words: 2,310

Warnings: Cursing, Near-Death Experiences, Fighting, Anxiety, Angst.

A/N: For @alexa135​ . I really hope you enjoy this! I decided to give the reader water-based powers. OH! I forgot but this should go without saying considering the request but there will be spoilers for the season 2 finale!

“What the hell happened? What was that?” Luther asks with a groan as Five helps him up.

“She must have redirected Vanya’s energy wave,” Five thinks aloud, trying to piece the puzzle together in his mind while simultaneously remaining present in the fight.

“Yeah, I know, but how?” He voices the question they’re all bound to have once this damned fight is over. The broken fireplace shifts, bricks beginning to topple. Five springs into action.

“Luther watch out!” He yells, pushing him out of the way, tons of bricks falling on top of Five and completely burying him.

“Five!” The scream comes from the tattered house, causing your eyes to shoot open.

After Lila had sent an energy wave blasting in your direction, it sent you flying across the farm. Luckily Harlan’s ability had caused it to snow, and snow is made of water, therefore allowing you to collect snow and form it into a landing pad cushy enough to prevent major injury.

The cold wind creates an ominous whistle in the air as you struggle to push yourself out of the snowy cocoon. Once you’re on your feet, it’s a race against time. Is it? Oh, God. The thoughts in the back of your mind run rampant as your heart pounds against your chest, heart already aching at the dreadful thought: Five is dead.

Just as you arrive at the surprisingly still intact front door of the house, you throw it open only for your eyes to widen. Luther’s thrown through the wall of the house by none other than Lila, something that causes alarm. Not only was she able to create an energy wave, but she has super-strength too? Before you can react, she’s stepping through the hole and out of the house.

Allison’s voice is enough to make your heart clench as your own worry only amplifies for Five. You thought he was in here, but looking around, you don’t see him anywhere. “Five?” It comes out quietly at first as if you’re afraid of receiving no answer. “Five?” You call louder, still searching for him at the entrance.

The sound of talking then fighting outside doesn’t concern you, having faith in Five’s siblings, yet, the longer it goes on and you don’t find Five, you decide it might be best to help contain Lila before resuming your search. If he really is dead… he wouldn’t want to lose anyone else.

Stepping over the rubble and pile of bricks, you finally hear Allison use her power. Relief floods you as you know she’s powerful. “I heard a rumor-”

“-you stopped breathing,” Lila returns the rumor, somehow mirroring her power. As instantly as relief flooded you, it ebbs away, replaced instead with cold and heavy terror. Three members are missing and Diego is crying for help; that’s four down and only three standing, including you.

You don’t suspect Lila’s noticed you yet, with Luther’s groveling and the sick way Lila watches, but you know what to do. This is an advantage, one of Five’s favorites in fact: the element of surprise. With the outstretch of your hands, you concentrate all your energy on boiling the water inside her body, essentially melting her from the inside out. She slowly turns in your direction and you circle around her. Lila stuffs her hands in her pockets.

“You,” it’s an accusatory tone. A chuckle leaves Lila’s lips, and she tilts her head, a wicked smile upon her lips. “You’re little shit of a boyfriend’s dead, you know?” She jokes, no sign of pain from her despite the red glow around your hands. “He’s dead, though really, you should be thanking me, you know? That murdering prick.”

“Shut up! Don’t you dare speak about him like that,” you threaten, jaw clenching as you take a step toward her, closer toward the barn. She leads you further and further away, a game of cat and mouse perhaps, a game of chicken. You’re not scared. You’ll do whatever it takes to avenge Five.

“Oh yeah? Or what?” She laughs maniacally, her eyes widening in a way only a psychopath’s would.

That’s when you notice it. You wince. There’s a twinge of pain at your side and your attention is drawn to her fists as she pulls them out of her pockets and holds them up, they’re glowing red just like yours. “You gonna bite me? Nice try, little girl, but I think you’re the only one who’ll be absolutely on fire tonight!”

Next comes the headache, the familiar feeling of dehydration. It’s the first stage. Blood rushes through your veins, pounding as you glare up at her with a look that Five’s said on many occasions could kill. You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath, but when you let it out as a loud sigh, you wobble on your feet. The previous posture you’d had slumps as you struggle to stay standing. Another telltale sign is sweat; loss of fluids. Sweat drips down your forehead, underneath your clothes, your palms struggling to stay clenched in a fist as your eyebrows furrow in her direction.

“You’re not winning this, Lila. I won’t let you get away with this!” Something bubbles inside you. It feels somewhat like gas or an upset stomach, but you know what it really is… it’s your insides boiling; melting; overheating.

“We’ll see about that,” the smug look on her face does nothing but irk you. You have absolutely no idea what Diego saw in her.

One of Luther’s cries for Allison causes you to refocus. There’s no chance in hell you’ll let Lila live through this. She’s not going to get away with killing another one of the Hargreeves siblings today! A yell tears through you as you tap into your energy, your power. Directing it toward her, the glow of your hands amplifies into a bright red. It’s working.

Lila winces and folds in half, holding her stomach. “You little- conniving- she-devil!” Whipping her head up to glare at you through her bangs, Lila grunts as her fists glow brighter. She’s using more of her power!

“Let her go! It’s me you want, isn’t it?” Five’s voice distracts you. Hope lights up in your eyes and butterflies swirl through your tummy- wait… no. That’s not it. The momentary distraction was enough for her. A spike of heat throws you off your feet and you collapse onto the ground, clutching at your stomach. 

Releasing a string of groans as you writhe on the ground, you know this is the worst of it. Soon it will be over and the pain will become so much that it will numb. By then... there’s no coming back from it. That’s what happens to all your victims.

“Why won’t you just stay dead?” Lila asks rhetorically, blowing her bangs out of her face with a roll of her eyes as she relaxes from her one-on-one with you. “I can fix that for you,” she threatens. Stalking across the snow, a scream causes everyone to freeze.

“LILA!” It’s Diego. Running toward her, he stops just a few feet behind her. Though it might be stupid to take her eyes off of Five, she knows she’s ready for anything, so she takes a split-second to look at Diego. “You’ve gotta be a desperate, pathetic, wimp to go after those kids! If you do this… you’re only fooling yourself. You know who the enemy is here, and it’s not us! It’s not Five,” he warns, grabbing her attention.

The woman does a double-take, looking between the young couple and Diego. She knows Five’s not going anywhere, he’d never leave you to die alone, so she’s got some time to spare. After all, she wants to take her time killing him. Might as well save him for last. Running after Diego, the man panics and turns, fleeing into the barn.

Five couldn't care less about the snow as he throws himself onto the ground, hurriedly pulling you closer. Wait, is this the smart thing to do? He knows your abilities; he knows you’d been boiling each other alive, she’d mirrored you, Lila had been a copycat. It’s an idea, not founded on proof or fact as this situation has never happened before, but it’s the only logical solution he can think of. It has to work! The old man calls your name a few times, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he forces you to look at him. His hands pin you down on the ground to prevent you from writhing too much. That won’t help anything. Surely touch isn’t good as his body-heat will only worsen your state. Right now you need to be still, you need cold, you need ice. He needs your attention for a second though, long enough to relay his plan. “Look at me, look at me. You’re not dying today. You’re not dying here, I am not letting that happen.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you’d been duped. You feel like an idiot. Even if Five wasn’t dead, now you’re the one who’s dying. Go figure, right? Staring up at the cloudy grey sky, you can’t help but feel like this is all so wrong. This isn’t the way things were supposed to go! This isn’t how you wanted to die.

Five doesn’t allow you to think like that. His face blocks your vision as his icy-blue eyes search your own, worry, and concern obvious within them. “Don’t be afraid, trust me. I know that you’re tired. I know, but you need to use your powers again. You need to freeze yourself. Use the snow, use the ice. Use the water in my body for all I care, you have to live! I am not losing you today, and I’ll be here, no matter what!” Sliding his hand into your own, he squeezes your hand for a moment, giving you a worried smile. His eyebrows are slightly pinched, creating worry-lines on his forehead as he hovers over you.

It shouldn’t be that simple. It can’t… and you don’t have enough energy to do that, but you don’t know how to tell Five. He’d lose his mind. If it were any other time he’d lecture you on how their family is not a family of quitters, and he, himself, is certainly not a quitter. The whisper of your name causes you to open your eyes again. Five closes the space between you to place a tender kiss on your lips. “Please… I can’t lose you too.”

With a shaky inhale, you let go of his hand and place it on your stomach. A dim blue glow surrounding your hand as you begin to freeze yourself. You have to try. A lightbulb goes off in Five’s head. He gathers the surrounding snow in his hands, beginning to pile it on top of you, almost like burying someone in the sand, only in snow. This has to work. It has to; he keeps telling himself on repeat. It drives him crazy to sit there watching, not able to do anything other than cover you in snow. He hates the snow, and any other time he’d curse it, but right now he’s grateful to the universe. The faint sound of fighting in the barn worries him, and he contemplates the idea of helping his siblings… but he can’t leave you. What if you die? He’d never forgive himself if he wasn’t here and you were alone taking your last breath.

His heart pounds in his chest and he takes shaky breaths as he freezes his ass off. It’s cold as fuck out here, though he knows you don’t feel it right now. Underneath the snow he’d placed atop your stomach he spots a brighter blue glow, which must mean it’s working, right?! It has to be. It has to be. Five scoots a little closer as he watches with anticipation. Your eyes flutter closed again, lips void of color from dehydration. Calling your name, you don’t answer.

The beating of your heart slows down, you can feel it within you. Things don’t hurt anymore, and you’re thankful for that. It’s just as you’d predicted, though, and the only thing you regret is not being able to tell Five that you love him. He watches as your chest slows, your breathing becoming more spaced out. Anger, resentment, regret, dread, and horror all fill his gut as he slowly processes what’s happening. Five isn’t a crier, but as he stares stoically at your body, he feels tears start to well up in his eyes. With a quiet whimper, he hangs his head, bangs falling in his face as he sniffles, unable to process this. Whispering your name, as if it were a question, as if he’s expecting an answer, Five’s eyes widen as yours flutter open. “Oh- thank the forces that be!” A heavy sigh escapes him as he hurriedly pushes the snow off of you and helps you sit up. Snowflakes stick to your hair, which elicits a genuine smile from Five. He raises his hand to brush your hair behind your ear and run it down your hair before cupping your cheek.

Both of you open your mouths to speak at the same time, though you beat him to it. “I love you, Five.”

“I love you too,” he whispers in response, never once taking his eyes off yours. The hand is soft on your cheek and it makes you utterly happy that you’re both alive. Noticing him leaning in, you close the space between you with a soft and yet desperate kiss. He thought he’d lost you; you thought you’d lost him. Neither of those things were true. A rumbling of the ground causes both of you to pull away, realization dawning on you that the fight isn’t over yet.

[hopscotchandlemon]

A Little Peace Part 2

Prompt number: 25 – Do you know what time it is?

Fandom: NCIS

Rating: Teen

Warnings/Tags: None

Fictober 21 Masterlist

 As it happened, sleep came relatively quickly to the pair, but did not stay long for Gibbs. He woke up with a start – some nightmare wrenching him from his slumber, leaving him gasping for air, heart palpating throughout his body. He got up, forgetting where he was and who he was with and opened the cabin door, keen to get some cool air in his lungs.

“Gibbs?”

He swung around, trying to remember why Jacqueline Sloane was in his cabin in the middle of the night.

“Jack, you ok?” 

“I think I should be asking you that question. What’s up?”

“Nuthin’,” he claimed, closing the door.

The speed of his denial told Jack that all was most certainly not well. As he walked back into the dimly lit cabin, she could see that he seemed agitated, maybe even upset.

“You want to talk?”

He shrugged, looking anywhere but at her. Jack knew talking was the last thing he wanted, yet he hadn’t said no, indicating that he probably needed to, but the idea of sharing had him feeling uncomfortable

“I guess having all this peace and quiet can give you a lot of time to think, to dwell on matters you’d rather not,” she said out loud, sat on their makeshift bed whilst her companion stood. He didn’t say anything, in fact, he was staring into space.

“Gibbs?” his eyes snapped on to hers as she said his name.

“It was a nightmare,” he finally admitted.

She nodded. While they were less frequent, she still had the occasional dream that caused her to wake up suddenly, reliving events she’d rather forget. It was understandable that a man that had experienced as much trauma as he had would have them too.

“I’m going to go do some fishing,” he announced, going to get in boots and his coat.

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Fish will still be there, Jack.” He shrugged as he exited the door.

With as exasperated sigh, she flopped back under the covers. Maybe he needed a bit of time, and she needed a bit of sleep.

The sound of birds singing was the first thing she became aware of. Opening her eyes, she sat her herself up and noted she was still alone in the cabin. Slipping on her shoes, she got up and opened the cabin door.

“Howdy,”

There was Gibbs, cooking fire over the fire.

“Well, hello. Someone’s been busy.”

“Some of my best fishing is done at night.” He recalled.

There was a chirpier tone to his voice, and it was obvious that whatever had bothered him in the early hours was forgotten, or at least pushed to the back of his mind.

Once the fish had been consumed, they sat finishing their coffee. Jack looked to Gibbs. He appeared relaxed, like he was ready for the next day’s adventure.

“So what’s on the cards today, Gunny?”

“Got something to show you, it’s a bit of a trek, but it’s worth it.”

Jack wondered how she had gone from wanting to spend all weekend on the couch, to fishing and hiking while sleeping on a cabin floor. With a spring in her step, she got up and prepared herself to the hike ahead. They set off, the sunshine warming their faces as they strode through the woodland. The gradient gradually increased, and the sun got warmer.

“We got much longer to go?” Jack asked as she took another long swig from her water bottle.”

“Ya not chickening out on me, are you Sloane?” he joked.

Replacing the cap on her bottle, she gave him a smile.

“Of course not Gibbs, just remembering we got to get to work tomorrow.”

They carried on their journey, half an hour later they were at the the spot Gibbs had wanted to show her.

Below, a river meandered through the valley. They could see for miles.

“It’s beautiful, Gibbs. Thank you. I guess it was worth the walk.

She stood admiring the view, her companion stood next to her. She breathed in the fresh air, the breeze catching stray strands of her hair. She felt a sense of contentment being able to see so far from so high up. She closed her eyes, enjoying the moment of peace. She felt a hand wrap around her own, making her stomach flip and a smile creep across her face. Opening her eyes, she turned her head to see those ocean-blue eyes.

TBC

Tagging: @ilovemark1951 @mahc1562 @petrichor-13

[misslilli]

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13

Chapter 14 - Last Chance For Spotting A Rainbow

If you know you know ;)

[ FM ]

The second Friday in school marks the end of the grace period for the first-grade parents where they can accompany their kids all the way to the classroom. From now on, we wait for them in front of the school with the other parents.

It also ends the grace period where I can “casually” bump into Miss Scully in front of her classroom and I’m a little disappointed, to say the least.

This morning though, I get lucky because when we enter the school, we run into her on the way from the teacher’s lounge to the classroom, a stack of books in her arms and a cup of coffee perched perilously on top of them.

Felix is ecstatic. “Good morning, Miss Scully!,” he yells from across the front hall and tugs me towards her.

She stops and waits for us, her coffee cup wobbling. “Good morning, Felix! Mr. Mulder!”

“Good morning! Do you need help with that?” I gesture towards her books but the shakes her head no.

“No, no, I’m fine, thanks. So Felix, you got any big plans for this weekend?” They’re walking in front of me and I’m proud of myself that I steal a glance at her ass only once. Okay and one at her legs. ‘Those heels, oh boy. Another pair to add to my inappropriate fantasies, in most of which she always wears heels. And nothing else.’

“Yeah, we’re going to the farmer’s market tomorrow! Have you ever been there Miss Scully?” Felix swigs his schoolbag along, his gaze never leaving her.

“Actually, me and my friends go there every Saturday, so maybe we’ll run into you guys there!” I somehow get the feeling that if Felix gets any say in this, we’ll be spending the whole day there until we run into her.

When we reach the classrooms, she finally lets me help her out. “Could you get my keys please? They’re in my back pocket. Just pull on the lanyard.” ‘Oh Lord. They’re in the freaking back pocket of her jeans. Of course they are. I just can’t seem to catch a break.’

Biting back a dirty joke – which I’m 100% positive she wouldn’t appreciate – I do as told and tug on the lanyard, unlocking her classroom door and opening the door for her. I briefly wonder if I should just put the keys back where they were, but the thought alone almost gives me a heart attack, so instead, I loop the lanyard with her keys around her neck and she smiles thankfully.

“Thanks. Have a good weekend, Mulder boys!”

After school, I don’t see her again because they’re, as Felix informs me, in the gym already. But I’m treated to a story about her in recess in the car.

“So I was sitting on the teacher’s bench again today and Miss Scully was talking to Miss Anderson and you know how they’re kind of weird and only ever use the first letters of their names? Miss Anderson always calls her “D” and I’ve been wondering forever what it stands for.” Yes I do know, I had to get him the book of first names from our library’s top shelf. Also, a kid’s definition of forever will never cease to amaze me. It’s been a few days, tops. I wait for him to continue.

“… and then, Miss Anderson said it, dad! She said: ‘Dana, I’m not sure this is gonna work!’ Now I finally know! …Dana.”

I nod, but on the inside, I sincerely hope that he hasn’t made the obvious connection, that her name is almost eerily similar to his mother’s first name. Just one letter.

---------

[ DS ]

That night, we order Chinese takeout, none of us particularly interested in cooking and we gather around the kitchen table. Sarah passes out the chopsticks while Holly opens a bottle of Shiraz, our classes clinking together for a toast. “Two weeks down! So girls, how was your week? Any juicy stories?,” Sarah asks, looking around at us expectantly.

“Well… I could tell you about that really awful date I had this week with Mark the banker, on which he made a move 10 minutes into the conversation buuuut I get the feeling someone else might have more interesting stories.” Holly points her chopsticks at me and grins, waggling her eyebrows. My own chopsticks pause halfway to my mouth.

“Me? Why?” I ask innocently, stuffing a piece of spring roll into my mouth.

“Very funny! You wanna tell me why I saw a very handsome dad leave your classroom all smiley faced on Tuesday?” ‘Busted.’

“What?! Mr. Mulder? How did I miss this?” Sarah looks at the both of us incredulously.

“Because your classroom isn’t across from D’s and you didn’t happen to look out through the window to see Dopey McSmileypants leave! So D, spill it, and don’t leave anything out!” I shrug nonchalantly.

“I asked a mom to help with read-alouds but her kid was sick, so since Mr. Mulder happened to stand there, I asked him if he could do it. Of course, the kids were all over him with questions, who are you, what are you doing here, you know how curious they are. He was a big hit with them, though, they absolutely loved him.” ‘They’re not the only ones though’

“Bet they weren’t the only ones who loved him, huh?” Damn Sarah for reading my mind! I laugh uncomfortably, shifting in my seat, but I nod. It was really nice to have him in my classroom. To cover for the fact that I’m not telling them the whole story, I help myself to some Kung-Pao Chicken. Sarah catches on anyway, of course she does.

“Wow, that’s mighty nice of him, to take an hour out of his workday to help you out! But I get the feeling that there’s more to the story, what aren’t you telling us, D?”

“Well… after he left, the kids had even more questions, they practically fell over each other, why are your cheeks so red Miss Scully, is he my boyfriend, or is he my husband? And… I caught myself thinking ‘Ya, I wish!’ …” I trail off, a little embarrassed at my admission.

“Man this is some serious Romeo and Juliet shit that’s going on here, D. So we’ve established that you like him, we suspect that he likes you too, judging by the glazed over look on his face when you walk by and he thinks no-one is watching. What’s the hold-up then?”

“Please don’t tell me we’re still hung up on the people talk – good reputation bs!” If I had hoped that the conversation would not take this turn, Holly quickly extinguishes it.

“I don’t know, guys… it’s not complete bs though, you know how I hate when people gossip about me behind my back, and dating the new guy in town puts me in a spotlight that I’m not particularly comfortable being in. I guess what’s worse however is that I’m scared. Like, terrified, of putting my heart out there again after that 2 year on-again-off-again shitshow with Steve last year.”

“That narcissistic asshole…,” Holly mutters under her breath and the others nod, remembering when I had finally hit emotional rock-bottom last year, after I realized that he’d gaslighted me over and over again, resulting in me having a mental breakdown curled up on the cold bathroom floor.

“My anxiety has been badever since, it’s getting better with therapy, but still… I just know I’ll screw it up. I’m damaged goods.” Alex, who hasn’t said anything yet, listening intently, finally speaks up.

“That’s not true, D. You’re getting help and you know we’re always there for you.” – “Yeah, we’ll kick anybody’s ass who dares to hurt you!” – “Don’t interrupt me, S. If he’d ask you out on a date, do you think you’ll say yes?” I consider this for a moment.

“I’m not sure. I don’t really know anything about him except that he seems to be a great dad and that he believes in aliens…” Holly bursts out laughing at the last part.

“What? Aliens?” I tell them the story that took place with the PTA parents in front of the school and the others join Holly’s laughter and I’m grateful that the conversation has taken a lighter turn.

“That’s too funny... You know, he could really learn a thing or two from his son, he asked us to his and his dad’s birthday party today at recess! It was so sweet, guys, I can’t even… We’re all invited, by the way – I think it’s going to be quite the event!” Felix had come up to Sarah and me today, holding out an official invitation and one that he had made himself, just for us.

“Yay, a party, I love me a good party! So, are we going to go?” Holly looks at us questioningly. Sarah only scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“Are you kidding? Of course we’re going to go!”

[dinosaurtsukki]

wherefore art thou, romeo? | an osamu x f!reader one-shot

pairing: osamu miya x f!reader

word count: 6.1k words

contains: a boatload of crack, fluff if you squint, high school setting, more bickering than working on the actual play, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, brief mentions of the romeo and juliet with leonardo di caprio in it

summary: being best friends with the miya twins for years has prepared you for all of their shenanigans but even you’re taken by surprise when osamu, the guy you’ve been in love with for years, nominates you to play juliet for the class play and atsumu to play romeo

a/n: *squints at word count* okay this was supposed to be released in three chapters but i ended up writing all of it in one go and i didn’t know exactly where to separate the chapters so here it goes 

the day started out fairly normal, if fairly normal meant that your two best friends were using your ruler to divide a candy bar accurately into two during homeroom while waiting for the teacher, could be called ‘fairly normal.’ but when those two friends were the miya twins, that’s how normal things got. the teacher arrived a bit later, announcing some reminders about the cultural festival dates, before the time was handed over to the Class President, a guy with glasses and straight black hair that you and your friends just called ‘Mr. President.’

“for the cultural festival, our class, due to majority votes, has decided to put on the play: ‘Romeo and Juliet,’“ Mr. President announced. judging from his cheeky smile, you could tell that he may have had a hand in those ‘majority votes.’ 

“aw, yuck. don’t tell me ya voted for that, y/n,” atsumu nudged you from behind your desk.

“why are you assuming its me?” you grumbled, batting his hand away.

“aw, no crepe cafe then,” osamu said sullenly beside you. your gaze was pulled to him, as it always was. now that the spring inter-high was over, osamu was mostly in his school uniform, not that you minded. his silver hair, that he got in trouble with the principal for, was pushed haphazardly to the side and gleamed in the sunlight.

“now,” Mr. President continued. “what we have to decide on right now is who gets which acting roles and who gets to do the technical jobs.”

“painting sets? painting sets?” atsumu poked you and osamu. 

“hmm, i’d kind of like to work on the lights,” you hummed, already imagining yourself scrolling through your phone and switching on the spotlight once every few minutes. osamu was quiet and you knew he was probably thinking of painting sets too.

“now, is there anyone who’d like to volunteer for playing romeo?” Mr. President asked, surveying the class. “you can also nominate people and--”

osamu abruptly raised his hand up. your eyes widened, wondering if he was going to volunteer. atsumu had the same concern.

“whoa, whoa. don’t tell me yer thinkin’ of playing romeo?” atsumu laughed incredulously.

but that isn’t what osamu did. in full Dramatic Flair, osamu miya pointed at his twin and announced “i nominate miya atsumu to play romeo.”

the laughter in atsumu’s voice died as quickly as the class erupted into murmurs. based on the snatches of conversation you heard, atsumu was going to be wielding a sword and probably wearing tights.

“okay, that’s one nomination for atsumu to play romeo,” Mr. President nodded, writing atsumu’s name on the board. you stifled a giggle as you heard atsumu stand up in his seat behind you.

“wait! wait! i nominate ‘samu to play romeo!” atsumu exclaimed hurriedly. the reaction wasn’t as loud as before and osamu flashed his twin a smug grin. 

“i’ll make sure to get a nice, bright spotlight on you,” you smiled cheekily at him.

“so, we have atsumu-san nominated to play romeo and--”

“i’m not done,” osamu interrupted. “i also nominate y/n to play juliet.” 

if atsumu reacted at a snail’s pace, yours was quite similar to how ketchup fell out of a bottle: none at first, before coming out all at once. within that length of time you spent staring into the void, Mr. President already wrote down your name on the blackboard and proceeded with the rest of the nominations (there weren’t any). the class voted, and you just barely felt someone pat you on the back to congratulate you for the role.

it was right when the decision over the roles was over when you turned slowly towards osamu, who had the audacity to flash a peace sign at you, and whisper ‘what have you done?’

...

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YA NOMINATED US TO PLAY ROMEO AND JULIET!” you and atsumu practically screamed at osamu during lunch break and for the rest of the day until you got to the miya twins’ house, where you spent most of your time, and cracked open the script that Mr. President handed out.

“sheesh, that was hours ago. get over it already,” osamu said, not looking up from the book he was reading: Beginner Techniques in Set Design. you didn’t even think he was reading, just mocking you and atsumu about the fact that he got the awesome job of painting sets. 

“it was hours ago but atsumu and i are stuck with rehearsals for weeks!” you complained.

“not only that, but we’d have ta read shit and memorize shit,” atsumu seethed. “and we know that y/n sucks at that!” 

“hey! i bet i could do better than you!” 

“i don’t think ya can!” 

osamu watched the battle from the top of his book, smiling to himself as you and atsumu quickly got into one of your fights that distracted you from the main reason behind the fight: osamu himself. ‘they’re still just like kids,’ he thought, watching you proceed to trap atsumu in a headlock. 

the three of you had been the best of friends since grade school when you pushed atsumu off a jungle gym and osamu laughed and high-fived you. it was when the three of you were eating breakfast after a sleepover in your first year of high school, when you said that atsumu only had two brain cells and that ‘one was a skater boy, the other said see you later boy’ and osamu laughed so hard he got milk coming out of his house, that he realized he just might be in love with you. 

“so, why didn’t you nominate yourself to play romeo?” suna asked him the next day while they were in the middle of stapling felt stars on a piece of dark blue fabric. like osamu, he was also lucky enough to be put in set design. “i mean, if you like her so much.” 

“because i don’t want to play romeo,” osamu said as-a-matter-of-factly. “and i think making ‘tsumu do it is hilarious.”

“you really do have a one-track mind,” suna hummed and turned around to where atsumu and y/n were already busy working on the scene where romeo and juliet meet.

“ugh i have to kiss her hand?” 

“well, do you want to kiss my foot?” 

“i’d rather kick ya in the face!” 

“you know, i feel like this on its own would make a great play,” suna said, watching the scene. 

“a romeo and juliet where the lovers actually hate each other but their opposing families desperately want to push them into an arranged marriage. sounds pretty neat,” osamu mused.

“okay, why don’t you two take a break, collect yourselves, and then we’ll come back in ten,” Mr. President sighed. at that, you and atsumu quickly stopped quarreling and stalked off in different directions. you headed straight for osamu and suna.

“sometimes i can’t tell who’s the more insufferable one between you two,” you narrowed your eyes at osamu who had the audacity (the only thing he never seemed to run out of) to smile innocently.

“it’s one of life’s greatest mysteries. like, whether the chicken or the egg came first,” suna added. 

“just give it a few weeks. atsumu will soon embrace his fate and you’ll be an amazing juliet,” osamu patted the top of your head. if you weren’t so annoyed with him you would have felt the butterflies in your stomach. except now you just wanted to bite his hand off.

“you know what, i’m going to kita’s later,” you muttered, pulling your phone out to text kita shinsuke, aka your adoptive mother. 

“hmm? why?” osamu asked.

“because he’s the only sane person i know. plus he’ll help me out with my lines,” you explained, sighing with relief when you got a prompt reply from kita.

“oh, well i was planning to buy some convenience store snacks that i saw on sale for when i do homework later,” osamu said, trying not to sound disappointed.

“maybe next time,” you smiled apologetically. “but in the meantime, maybe get your twin over there to memorize his and not fuck up.” osamu looked up at his brother who was holding the script up a few inches from his face.

“you’re right,” osamu agreed. “but, it would also be funny to edit out a few words here and there.” you returned his cheeky grin.

“you read my mind.”

...

“kitaaa what if it means something that osamu chose to make me and atsumu romeo and juliet,” you groaned, face planted on the coffee table in kita’s living room while he peeled tangerines. “like, what if he realized i actually liked him for this long and this is his way of friend-zoning me?”

“osamu’s the kind of person who’d tell you right away if he doesn’t have the same feelings for you,” kita shook his head.

“that means he’s going to reject me soon!” you sat up, planting your hands on the table.”

“y/n, you’re doing it again,” kita gently reminded. “think of it this way, maybe he nominated you to play juliet because he wants to see you as juliet. but he’s not fully ready for the commitment so he nominated atsumu to be romeo.”

“or he just wants to mess with us, which is probably the case,” you chuckled half-heartedly. “maybe i’ll just believe that.”

“or, think of it this way,” kita placed a peeled tangerine into your hand, like the mom friend that he was. “you could use the opportunity to be the best juliet ever, someone that osamu can barely tear his eyes away from.”

“and i can show up atsumu at the same time!” you grinned at the idea. kita sighed.

“you know, i feel like your sheer desire to just beat atsumu at everything may be a hindrance but go on.” 

“yeah, yeah, you lost me at ‘beat atsumu at everything’,” you sang as you cracked open your script. “now help me. i have to memorize all this by tomorrow.” 

...

“i think yer all wondering why i’ve gathered ya here today,” atsumu began.

“we’re... in the volleyball clubroom,” aran spoke slowly.

“which is where we always hang out,” suna added. atsumu raised an eyebrow and a hand to silence them, which sometimes worked.

“i’ve gathered ya guys to form the all-important, top-secret team with only one goal in mind!” atsumu paused for dramatic effect, which suna purposely ruined by coughing. “we’re gonna to get myself out of playing romeo for the class play.” 

“let me guess, whatever it takes?” aran asked, his arms folded.

“whatever it takes!”

and atsumu took that completely seriously. the next day, he gathered aran and suna to the clubroom again to execute his master plan, version 1: operation casting call.

“get it? cause, ya know, i’m part of a cast, and i’ll be showing up in a cast,” atsumu grinned proudly, showing off the roll of bandages that he bought yesterday at a drugstore. 

“okay, first of all: lame pun,” aran sighed. “secondly, that’s not a cast you’re just wrapping your foot in bandages and not encasing it in plaster which i think was what you were originally going for. lastly, do you realize just how many holes your plan has?”

“oh yeah? like what?” atsumu crossed his arms and scoffed.

“like the fact that your twin brother would know whether or not you were injured yesterday,” suna brought up.

“...i’ll jus’ say that i sprained my ankle jus’ now,” atsumu said.

“as if he’s going to believe you,” suna snorted.

“i’m just saying, please ditch this plan before you embarrass yourself,” aran sighed. atsumu felt his face heat up with embarrassment.

“sh-shut up! this plan is gonna work and i’m not gonna play fuckin’ romeo for another day!” atsumu snapped. “now help bind my foot.” 

aran and suna looked at each other. “you’re taking a video of what’s happening later,” aran said while suna nodded.

“i hate ya guys,” atsumu crossed his arms. 

a few minutes later, his foot was all wrapped up thanks to aran and atsumu was propped up on suna as he hobbled into the classroom. with full dramatic flair that he never seemed to run out of, atsumu slid open the door to the classroom.

“Mr. President! sorry to say this but i sprained my ankle!” he cried. everyone inside turned to look at him with you raising an eyebrow at the dubious looking ‘sprained ankle.’ 

“you know, if you spoke like that all the time you’d make a great romeo,” his twin quickly piped up from near the door where he was busy painting a tree.

“shut up ‘samu, ya traitor,” atsumu muttered at him. Mr. President had walked closer and inspected the bound foot.

“osamu, is this true?” he asked.

“w-wha? don’t ya believe me?” atsumu splattered. beside him, suna had already brought out his phone. mad, atsumu pushed himself off his ‘friend’ and tapped his ‘sprained’ foot on the ground. ‘it hurts! see! ow!” atsumu lied.

quick as a flash, osamu kicked atsumu’s good foot, causing him to hop on his ‘sprained’ foot. 

“fuck! ‘samu!” he yelled. 

“well, i guess there’s nothing to worry about,” Mr. President smiled and clapped his hands together. “and atsumu-san, that was a good attempt at acting. i hope you channel that passion into rehearsal today.” 

atsumu could do nothing else but mumble. “yeah, fine...”

...

“i can’t believe atsumu even thought that his plan would work,” you laughed, recounting the events of earlier that day. you were sprawled across the wooden floor backstage the theater your class was going to use for the cultural festival. osamu was right beside you, painting one of the backdrops for the play. 

“i really do think all the brainpower went to me sometimes,” osamu mused as he carefully painted the sky around the white clouds. there was a look of pure concentration on his face that made you think that maybe osamu was quite excited to do the set design for the play. ‘it’s always the things that you don’t really expect him to get into,’ you wondered as you watched him. 

“hey, is this shade of blue a bit too... blue?” he asked, holding the paintbrush to you. you scooted over next to him, grateful for the excuse to be nearer osamu. 

“it could use a bit more white to look more like the sky,” you answered.

“hmm, can you pass me that can of white from over there?” 

“sure, let me just-- hey!”

a splatter of blue paint landed on your nose as osamu swiped his paint brush over it. once again, he had the audacity to snicker as you grabbed the paint brush from him to splatter blue paint over his hair.

“you are so dead, miya osamu,” you narrowed your eyes and grinned at him as you picked up the tube of red paint from beside your knees.

“wait, wait y/n,” osamu laughed and held up his hands in surrender. “that’s red paint right there.” 

“you didn’t seem to have a problem with brushing light blue paint on my nose!” you exclaimed pointing at your face. 

“well, it is a bit of a good look because it brings out your eyes--” he was cut off by you squirting red paint right at his face. slowly, osamu raised a hand to touch the paint on his cheek. “you know, i kind of deserve that.” 

“you definitely do,” you stared down at him with both hands on your hips before bursting out laughing. osamu blinked up at you before joining in the laughter. even with your blue nose, you still looked absolutely radiant. just like how you were earlier during rehearsals as you did your best performance of juliet. you captured everyone’s attention and even atsumu actually made an effort to get to your level.

“come on,” osamu chuckled, standing up and ruffling your hair with the hand that still had red paint on it. “let’s go wash up.” 

the feeling of him ruffling your hair was such an old and familiar gesture that you couldn’t even remember when osamu started doing that. but you could clearly remember everything else you did when you were kids. watching cartoons and mixing different kinds of cereal in the morning, trying to climb up the drainpipes into each other’s rooms, the endless cycle of calling each other names, crying from too much teasing, and saying sorry only to forget two minutes later. 

you watched, head cocked to the side as osamu washed the paint from his face while you dried your hair. he didn’t realize just how much soap he was getting in his eyes and the cute, childishness of it made you giggle.

“what?” osamu looked, or rather, turned his head to you.

“your eyes are going to burn at this rate,” you snickered, stepping over to him and placing your hands under the faucet before gently washing the soap from osamu’s face. you didn’t even realize what you were doing until you were doing it and by then, it was too late. osamu didn’t seem to mind, not even when you used the towel around his neck to pat his face dry.

“there, now you just have a big red stain on your nose,” you laughed nervously as osamu opened his eyes.

“at least it goes with my hair,” osamu snickered, tossing his towel over your head before ruffling it. you felt your face heat up and smiled awkwardly at him in response.

“is this your idea of trying to dry my hair?”

“i think it’s kind of working.”

“it’s not working,” you laughed, taking the towel from him. “but thanks.” you felt your throat tighten with the words you wanted but were too afraid to say. you didn’t know when you started falling for one of your best friends and maybe it was thanks to all the shoujo manga you’ve read for years, but you knew that the best friend and the main character rarely ever got together. 

luckily, it was osamu who said something. “you know, you were pretty good earlier as juliet. i bet ‘tsumu was threatened,” he laughed, lifting his bag and starting to walk towards the school exit. you jogged to catch up to him. 

“no thanks to you though,” you snorted. 

“hey, it’s all for the sake of making memories,” 

“we could have made memories while painting sets,” you huffed. “you know, like more paint fights.” osamu flashed a sideways smile at you.

“we’d have those regardless. i wanted to see you as juliet.” 

you could feel your heart beating loudly in your ears as you forced yourself to think of a million other reasons as to why osamu would say that, only to focus on the single, most probable one that could mean everything you’ve ever dreamed of coming true. “osamu, i--” 

“i can’t believe ya left me!” atsumu exclaimed loudly behind you two, causing you to jump. you turned around just as he slung his arms around both of you and his twin.

“i can’t believe you thought pretending to sprain your ankle would work,” osamu muttered, looking slightly annoyed at his twin.

“shut up! i can’t believe ya’d break my cover! my own brother!”

“i think you two are way past that already,” you snickered, slightly annoyed at atsumu’s sudden appearance but unable to admit that you didn’t miss having him around either.

‘if i never get to confess to osamu, i’ll still have this,’ you thought, with a satisfied smile on your face.

...

“no offense, atsumu, but i think you should just move on from the fact that your plan to get yourself out of playing romeo just isn’t going to work,” suna said, lounging across his friend’s bed and uploading the video he took of atsumu’s ‘master plan’ failing. “just accept your fate, like what romeo did.” atsumu stopped pacing and regarded suna with a raised eyebrow.

“ya read the play?” 

“i read the summary,” suna answered. “at this rate, everyone knows you’re going to be faking some accident.” atsumu made no response and suna realized he needed just one more push. “also, you’re basically losing to y/n.” 

that got atsumu’s attention. “since when did she wanna be juliet anyway?” he muttered. 

just then, the door to their room flew open and in walked a very excited aran carrying a relic from the past, an actual DVD in its case, and a bag from the convenience store.

“yer late,” atsumu scowled at him. 

“yeah, and you didn’t listen to what i said and looked really dumb earlier,” aran said, much to atsumu’s embarrassment. “anyway, i think i have a solution to your woes,” he grinned, presenting the DVD to the two of them.

“what the fuck am i gonna do with movie ‘romeo and juliet?’“ atsumu frowned.

“it’s not just any romeo and juliet movie, it’s the romeo and juliet movie!” aran said enthusiastically. “starring leonardo di caprio!” 

“who now?”

“he’s the guy who didn’t win an oscar for years until the bear movie,” suna explained.

“ooooohhh.” 

“you uncultured shits,” aran sighed. “anyway, atsumu, just accept your fate--” 

“that’s what i’ve been trying to tell him!” 

“... and open your eyes to how awesome it is to play romeo!” aran finished. atsumu looked from the DVD in his friend’s hands, to suna on his bed, and to the bag of convenience store snacks, before sighing and nodding.

“if i decide it’s shit ten minutes in, we’re dropping the movie and yer all gonna tell me i’m right.” 

but he was wrong, oh so wrong. 

just like every middle-aged mom or english literature university student who watched Romeo + Juliet, atsumu was pulled in by leonardo di caprio’s sincere, expressive eyes. he practically swooned at the scene where romeo and juliet met from different sides of the fish tank to that iconic pool kiss, and by the end of the movie, atsumu almost teared up. he tried to hold back his emotions, in the hopes of not looking lame in front of his friends, only to find aran practically sobbing and suna clutching his knees to his chest.

“that was... really fucking beautiful,” atsumu cursed as the credits rolled.

“do you understand now? what it means to play romeo?” aran put a hand on his shoulder.

“do it for leo di caprio, atsumu,” suna added. atsumu sniffed and nodded his head eagerly.

“i will, i’ll do it for leo.”

...

it was a normal day at school, if normal meant you were wearing a blanket wrapped around your waist to make you ‘feel as if you were in costume’ and mixing vending machine coffee and vending machine chocolate milk in styrofoam cups with your best friend who also happened to be the guy you were in love with. that was as normal as thing got when you were best friends with the miya twins.

and that only meant that seeing atsumu come in for rehearsals, with a determined spark in his eyes, and recite every line to utter perfection that you knew william shakespeare himself would be proud of, was just pushing the boundaries of ‘normal.’

that only meant you had to be on your A-game too and before you knew it, you and atsumu had put on your best performance yet. your undying competitiveness and atsumu’s devotion to leonardo di caprio had gone a long way. all throughout that, osamu had a ‘cat-who-just-ate-the-canary’ smile on his face as he watched from the props area.

“you look like you’re going to say ‘all according to keikaku’ at any time,” suna observed. 

“oh, i am saying it in my head,” osamu said, watching you and atsumu onstage. he had hoped for two outcomes: either you were both comically terrible at the play, or that you were slightly mediocre. but a part in his mind knew you would find a way to surprise him. you always did, after all.

yours and atsumu’s performance got everybody in class even more motivated about the play. osamu ended up in a million meetings with the fellow set designers, even learning how to paint trees to look as life-like as possible. although being busy wasn’t enough to distract him from looking at you, especially when dress rehearsals began and you were wearing the most stunning dress that the costume department worked on. meanwhile, atsumu pretty much rehearsed, ate, and slept with his prop sword. 

finally, the big day of the cultural festival came around. despite the fact that you utterly loathed having to play juliet at first, you couldn’t help but feel proud at how far you’ve come. 

“hey, maybe i should just go to acting school or something,” you joked, sitting beside osamu and smoothing your dress over your legs which dangled over the side of the stage.

“you’ll run home crying after you hear any sort of criticism,” osamu snorted.

“mean! i deal with criticism really well!” you pouted. osamu raised an eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes. “you know i was joking. the fact that i haven’t received any acceptance letters from the universities i applied to is kind of making me crazy.” 

“so, is the fact that you’re playing a fourteen year-old girl who has to hide her love from her entire family before later killing herself a good way of escaping?” osamu asked.

“yeah, that and watching atsumu’s surprising transformation,” you snickered, turning around to watch atsumu and suna horsing around onstage. or rather, it was just suna from one end of the stage tossing chocolate chips at atsumu who was attempting to catch them with his mouth. 

“i asked suna and aran about what changed but their lips are tightly sealed,” osamu shrugged. “i like to think that he hit his head somewhere.” 

“well, he’s going to hit his head some time during the day at the rate he’s going right now,” you said, watching atsumu laugh and choke at the chocolate in his mouth. it was funny at first, until you noticed that atsumu kept on coughing.

“osamu,” you quickly tapped his twin. osamu turned around and immediately rushed over to his brother who was now turning a bright shade of red. 

“oh my god, were there peanuts in that chocolate?” you asked. atsumu let out a gasp and nodded his head.

“i’ll go get his meds,” osamu quickly jogged off only to be replaced by a very concerned Mr. President. “someone get him some water!” 

“i never thought atsumu-san was allergic to nuts. is it serious?” he asked, handing you his water bottle which you opened and quickly gave to atsumu who was now sitting down on the floor.

“well, it’s mostly rashes and an itchy throat but as long as he takes his medicine, he’ll be fine,” you shook your head. 

two allergy tablets, an apology from suna, and a long explanation later, atsumu was lying down in the nurse’s office with the swelling noticeably reduced. “unfortunately, he’d have to sit out the rest of the play so that the reaction completely subsides,” the nurse told you, osamu, and Mr. President. you sighed and regarded atsumu with hands on your hips.

“you thought they were chocolate-covered raisins, didn’t you?”

atsumu didn’t say anything except: “i’m sorry leo di caprio.”

“this is the absolute worst time for this to happen,” Mr. President sighed as he addressed your classmates backstage. “there’s only thirty minutes before showtime and our romeo is out of commission. anyone have any bright ideas?”

“does anyone else here vaguely know atsumu’s lines?” you asked around. “someone who read the script?” instead, you were met with silence. as much as you wanted for some miracle to happen and for the show to go on because you genuinely did want to play juliet, putting up a half-assed play with one of the two main characters gone wasn’t going to look good either.

you sucked in a deep breath, preparing yourself to make the call, but osamu, who had noticed your expression earlier, stepped forward. you looked at him with wide eyes and just caught him glance at you before addressing mr. president.

“i can step in for romeo.” 

“osamu...?” you asked. 

“i haven’t really read the script but i’ve heard atsumu rehearsing by himself often enough to pick up a few lines,” osamu rubbed the back of his head, already feeling nervous. 

“also, twin-sense,” suna piped up. “you know, your psychic connection between twins?”

osamu nodded his head slowly. “yes, that too.”

“alright, alright,” mr. president nodded his head. “well, i guess that’s better than nothing and osamu can fit into atsumu’s costume too. if you can, use these thirty minutes to read as much of the script as possible.” 

“got it,” osamu nodded. and with that, everyone resumed preparations and you were pulled into the dressing room to get your hair and make-up done. when you emerged, osamu was sitting on the floor against the far side of the backstage, bent over a copy of the script and muttering in concentration.

“hey,” you greeted, sitting down beside him. he was already dressed in his costume: a white, long-sleeved shirt with golden buttons and some tassels on the shoulders. his hair was also combed back with a few strands falling across his forehead.

“god, i can’t believe atsumu memorized all this shit,” osamu shook his head and looked up at you only to stop short. he had seen you about a million times in your juliet costume but with the make-up and your hair arranged so elegantly, you looked absolutely breath-taking.

“something wrong?”

“i... i’m just panicking about having to play romeo all of a sudden,” he blinked.

“i know. scary, isn’t it?” you nodded. “i... you didn’t have to though. i’m pretty sure everyone was ready to throw in the towel.” 

“and waste all my hard work painting sets?” osamu raised an eyebrow at you. “no way.” you tossed your head back and laughed.

“well, if you put it that way...” you nodded and smiled bravely. “the show will be fine. if you forget a line, just improvise. the most important thing is channeling the emotion.” 

“i think i can do that,” osamu smiled and reached a hand out to you. “to the best show ever?”

you grinned and shook his hand. “to the best show ever.”

...

the show was a complete disaster. as much as osamu did try to recite atsumu’s lines completely from memory, it was as if everyone was thrown off their game throughout the entire play. cues for special effects were forgotten (someone accidentally turned on a smoke machine during the first scene), props were misplaced (the actor for Tybalt was using a footlong hotdog against osamu’s prop sword), and there were more than a few times when someone missed their lines. at one point, you ended up reciting Team Rocket’s iconic spiel after the line ‘a rose by any other name is just as sweet.’ but, despite everything being a shitshow, it still ended up being overall entertaining. the audience laughed through most of the obvious fails and that caused the actors to loosen up just a bit. 

and it was osamu who ended up spearheading the comedic aspect of your ‘romeo and juliet’ play. from his dry, deadpan delivery of the very emotional lines, to his small inserts and side-comments about the play itself. you even had to stop yourself from laughing at times. but if you and atsumu were amazing at playing the scripted ‘romeo and juliet’, you and osamu were complete naturals when it came to improvising. 

“i don’t know if this is a success by conventional definitions,” Mr. President addressed everyone backstage as soon as the play was over. “but... we sure did make everyone out there laugh.” 

“and i consider that a win!” atsumu cheered beside you. he was looking much better, still with a bit of rashes though and his voice kind of heavy from the medicine. “kind of sad that i didn’t get to play romeo though,” he whispered at you.

“that’s alright. i channeled you in spirit,” osamu patted his twin’s shoulder.

“like hell ya did! i couldn’t believe ya used the dagger to kill yerself at the end,” atsumu argued.

“right?? i had to be all ‘oh romeo, you must have forgotten to use the poison you brought in your pocket!’” you recalled.

“i see dagger, i use dagger,” osamu reasoned. “wait, that’s ‘Macbeth’ isn’t it?”

“in a nutshell,” you shrugged.

“ugh, i’ve had enough of nuts for a day, don’t even mention it,” atsumu groaned, pushing away from the two of you and wandering off to the snack table that your classmates prepared.

“damn, i had more puns up my sleeve,” you sighed, watching him leave. 

“you’ll find a time to use them, don’t worry,” osamu reassured you. “in the meantime... do you want to, get out of here first? explore the rest of the cultural festival?” you felt your face flush but nodded nonetheless.

“i’m sure no one will notice the main characters of their cast go missing,” you grinned. “let’s get out of here, romeo.” 

when osamu meant ‘let’s check out the cultural festival’, he really meant buying a bunch of snacks from the stalls set up all around the school. but then again, that’s what he did all the time. soon enough, the two of you were sitting on the rooftop with your prized horde. 

“thank god i don’t have some weirdass nut allergy like tsumu. that’s definitely evidence that i got the stronger genes,” osamu said, biting into a crepe he just bought. “also the fact that he didn’t check that chocolate-covered nuts packet.” 

“i still feel sorry for him. he worked really hard to play romeo well,” you sighed. 

“hey, i tried to play my part seriously. well... sometimes.” 

“you did nail the whole ‘yearning for my love juliet’ part right,” you grinned, remembering the surprise at seeing the tenderness and longing on osamu’s face as he recited romeo’s lines about being in love with juliet. ‘well, that’s something for me to daydream about for the rest of my life you,’ you thought.

that was until osamu said “well, it’s good practice for when i actually confess to someone.” 

confess to someone.

‘does that mean, all this time? he’s liked someone?’ you felt your stomach drop. you’ve never known osamu to be expressive when it came to people he had feelings for. were you just ignoring all the signs? was--

“it’s you, idiot,” osamu sighed. 

“wait, what?” you looked at him with wide eyes. osamu sighed again and ran a hand through his hair.

“you know, i was thinking of a more suave way to say this but you looked like how you did earlier when you were supposed to be engaged to tybalt,” he chuckled. “so, i put two and two together for the first time. you’re the one i like, y/n.”

it was the moment you’ve been waiting for for so long, and yet the only thing you could come up with was “haha, cool.” 

in response, osamu stared at you long and hard before taking another bite out of his crepe. “i think your brain is fried,” he muttered through a mouthful of crepe.”

“hold on, hold on,” you held a finger up, finally coming back to your senses. “you had a crush on me and also the audacity to make me juliet and have your twin brother as romeo?”

“i thought you’d be really cool as juliet but i didn’t want to go through the work of being romeo,” osamu said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “obviously it backfired but--”

“that’s called karma, osamu,” you pointed an accusing finger at him. “if you think i’m going to let you off easy i’m--” 

you were cut off by osamu’s lips meeting yours and the taste of whipped cream and strawberry on your tongue. your brain short-circuited, trying to think of a way to describe this situation other than ‘haha, cool’ again. osamu, sensing your brain waves, pulled you even closer with a hand on your cheek.

“are you going to let me off now?” he raised an eyebrow at you after you parted. you smirked.

“i’ll have to think about it.” 

“yeah?” osamu mumbled, his smirk matching yours. “what else do i need to do?” you leaned forward before taking a bite out of the crepe in his hands. you chewed while grinning at the surprised look on osamu’s face.

“now we’re even.”

taglist (still open to anyone who wants in!): @montys-chaos​ @miyumtwins​ @strawberriimilkshake​ @pocubo​ @sugawara-sweetheart@akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan@therainroguefanfiction@atetiffdoesart@stephdaninja@oikaw-ugh@charliefredb@dramaqueenweeb1469@tremblinghearts@applepienation@doodleniella @haikyuu-my-love

[tiny-smallest]

day one - pride

Rating: G Characters: Henry and Bendy Warnings: none Description: Henry reflects on the definition of labels and belonging in certain spaces.

Also on AO3!

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WHO'S READY FOR THE INK DEMONTH 2021 I SURE ONCE AGAIN TOTALLY WAS YEP DEFINITELY NO LAST MINUTE ANYTHING HERE LET'S GO

Doing writing prompts again because this year has been A Lifetime and I just don't possess the ability to draw this time so let's go let's get stupid get weird enjoy the misadventures of a specific au of of Bendy and the Ink Machine where the toons are their own people in a world they still don't entirely understand and the people who love them who try to help them navigate it.

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Henry was used to a surprising amount of things to interrupt his day first thing in the morning. Easily numbered in the hundreds. His children were toons; there was no end to the amount of crazy nonsense that they could get into when he was asleep, and that was disregarding the fact that Bendy usually slept until noon.

Sure, he was the Troublemaker In Chief. That did not mean the other two were paragons of holiness, no matter how much Alice tried glowing her halo at him while she and her brother gave him the saddest, biggest, shiniest puppy eyes. And that didn't even take into account how much trouble they could find, no mischief intended.

He'd seen smoldering breakfasts, pancakes on the ceiling, saran wrap around the kitchen archway, demonic rubber chicken noises from a saxophone that had a part replaced with the noisemaker from the novelty prank toy...

(He still didn't regret letting Boris chase Bendy for that one without intervening.)

With all that, being immediately accosted by three toons hanging off his legs the second he came down the stairs and all trying to talk to him at the same time did not magically get any easier to withstand.

"Whatever it is, it's a no until I get my coffee," he drawled as he attempted to walk with them hanging off him, the three of them dragged along with him. It was with quite some difficulty that he got to the kitchen counter.

"But Henry!" Bendy whined, "we only got a few hours to get ready if ya say yes! We need every second!"

"For what?" he yawned, pouring a cup from the machine.

"You don't know what day it is?" Alice was surprised enough to actually let go, and she dusted herself off like the lady she was before standing up.

Instantly something cold grabbed Henry's heart and squeezed. "Uh- no I...?"

Had he forgotten someone's birthday? No, it was summertime; Bendy was a winter 'birth' and Boris and Alice were spring and fall. An anniversary of some kind? Quick think what are you forgetting you useless-

"How!?" Bendy gaped at him from down below. "It's been all over the news fer weeks!"

Well okay now he was just thoroughly confused. "I um-"

"The parade, Henry!" Boris's tail was thumping gently against the floor; he was not trying one tiny ounce to hide his eagerness. "The parade that's today!"

"Parade-?" It took just one more nanosecond of thought before it clicked.

"Oh you mean the-!" And they wanted to go to it.

Well, he shouldn't be surprised. This would be the first parade they'd get to see, wouldn't it? And it was nice weather out. And it would be bursting with color, which the toons were darn near obsessed with.

He took a contemplative sip. They weren't human; god even knew if they had any sort of sexuality at all. Could they even feel that stuff? The urge to- do anything like that? Wouldn't that technically make them asexual? That was the word, right?

Well, human or not, that would solidly mean they belonged there. Queer was queer, regardless of species, right? Hell, even if they'd just started asking themselves those questions, or wanted to support the fans of theirs who fell under that giant umbrella, they were valid for being there.

"Sure, I can take you."

Both boys cheered, lifting their arms to do so and releasing his legs. He quickly took a step away from them, but their joy had them leaping to their feet anyway and he watched as they bounced around the kitchen, slowly draining his coffee and trying to curb his smile when he was actively drinking.

It was a hard task.

Their excited chatter melted pleasantly into the background as he took the time to drink and try to shake his brain awake the rest of the way awake like shaking out an old blanket to coax out the wrinkles. Their enthusiasm always made for the perfect background noise.

"What colors do you want?"

"I dunno! There's so many! I don' even know what label I fit in-"

"I saw you checkin' out that guy the other day don't think I didn't!" The wink and nudge from Bendy sent Boris blushing so hard the poor wolf's face turned nearly as black as his fur.

"I was hopin' you hadn't-"

They were all quick to consume breakfast, and Henry retreated upstairs after telling the toons to come get him when they wanted to leave.

He settled comfortably in the limitless, timeless space of art before reality came knocking with Bendy's distinctive tapping at the door, pulling Henry from the space inbetween something and nothing as he set his pen aside. "Come in, kiddo."

When Bendy stepped in with what was unmistakably a rainbow flag on his cheek and extra face paint he knew he was in for a time.

"Oh uh- what's that for-"

"For you!" Bendy said with a giant grin. "Who'd ya think?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah well- I uh-"

Bendy didn't slow down. "Anyway the others are about ready to go but they sent me up here to get your flag on while they finish up- now why they trusted me with the paint I got about as much an idea as you but hey I'm not gonna complain-"

"Aw that's- that's sweet kiddo but I sorta figured I'd just be-" How to say this. "Dropping you off...?"

Immediate confusion. "What? Why?"

"Uh well- I mean-" He fiddled with the pen- when had that ended up back in his hands? "You guys- you have a space there, you know? I'm not sure if I-"

There was now a puckered frown on the little devil's face. "Not sure if you what?"

"Well I mean- I don't exactly- belong, now do I?"

The frown multiplied its intensity by about five. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Aw jeez. He really did not want to discuss this with his kid, as much of an adult as Bendy was. For many reasons. "Uh well- you know-" He gestured, as if hoping that would somehow pluck the answer from the air and implant it in Bendy's brain without having to give voice to it, setting the pen down in the process so he’d stop playing with it. "I'm not exactly- I mean-"

"You like guys." Bendy's voice was so sure that Henry knew making any sort of denial was futile. And also kind of stupid. Why would he deny that to his own son? No of course he wouldn't.

"Well I mean- I married a woman, didn't I?" he finally blurted out.

Unimpressed blinking as he drew closer to stand beside the desk. "Yeah they got a word for that. Several actually. Most popular ones are bi and pan, so which colors is it gonna be?"

"No no I mean-" God he was probably blushing. His face definitely felt way too hot. "I uh- I mean I- I like guys, yes-" great brain thanks a ton totally needed that heart rate spiking why are you acting like that's scary this is our kid- "but I- I married a woman- I like women- more often?"

The blinking was now confused.

"Uh-" How to phrase this. "If- if we split it into a pie chart- it's probably like... thirty-seventy in favor of women?" He ran his fingers through his hair and down the back of his neck again. "I'm- not that I'm any great catch but like, if I was in any way qualified to be in the dating pool again, I'd be way more likely to end up with a lady."

The unimpressed look was back. "And?"

It was Henry's look to be surprised. "And- and that means that, you know- I'm not really-"

"You like guys."

"I- yeah?"

"And you're a guy."

"Kind of a given at this point."

"So you're a guy, and you like guys, and just also happen to like girls too. We got names for that." He gave Henry's shirt an appraising look. "Gotta say the bi colors would complement your clothes best. If you want pan colors I'm gonna have to ask you to change. As your official fashion consultant."

Henry snorted. "My what?"

"Listen Dad I love you but I ain't about to let you walk into that parade wearing like, a pineapple hawaiian shirt or nothin'."

Henry banged a fist lightly on the table and pointed at him. "Liar! You wore the exact same thing just the other day!"

"Yeah but that was to the beach, not a parade."

"Literally when have you ever cared about not being a fashion disaster."

"This time, when Alice'll actually kill me otherwise."

"... Okay you got me there."

Bendy grinned. "So, bi colors or pan colors! Or somethin' else? I think there's other ones too."

He opened his mouth, closed it again and then opened it. What the hell. "... Bi colors, I guess."

"Yesssssss I was hopin' you'd say that." He hopped over onto the table like he'd suddenly become a bunny.

"Oh you were, huh?"

"Listen, the pan folks got pretty colors, but I'm always a sucker for a sunset," he said as he pulled out the pallet he needed. Henry sighed and shook his head, the smile ruining his effort to look exasperated.

"Well. Sunset me then, I guess."

"You got it boss!" Bendy said in maybe the worst mafia minion accent known to mankind.

It was barely five minutes of Bendy painting lines carefully on his cheek before he whipped out a mirror.

"Tah-dah!"

Henry blinked at himself in the mirror. He tilted his head, something shifting inside his heart that he had no name for, no way to voice.

The once proud look on Bendy's face was swiftly dropping. "... I didn't mess it up, did I...?"

"No- no, no." Henry tilted his head. "I uh..."

Bendy's worried browlines screamed anxiety to him.

"... I guess I just look good in a sunset," he said quietly, seeing the little corner of his reflection's mouth turn up as if in some sort of hazy dream.

Better than I thought.