#basic rule of thumb is two year olds are expected to be able to use TWO words in a row.

[lavenderprose]

'He would not fucking say that' only it's 'That child would not speak in full fucking sentences.'

[egcdeath]

hook, line, and sinker

summary: steve was never meant to be anything more to you than a check, a basic mission. but somewhere along the way, things had veered from that.

pairing: steve rogers x spy!reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: angst, bad decisions, betrayal, unhappy ending

author's note: it has been a minute since i've posted a fic! i hope you enjoy :)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Despite the different rooms you found yourself in, the harsh morning sun was always the first thing you saw in the morning. Its bright rays would peek through the room’s shades and land right onto your face, intruding on some of the more vulnerable moments of your life.

When you finally angled your face away from the beaming star, your tired eyes fell upon the man next to you. The man you should’ve never taken things this far with. A man on the run, who you were sent after.

You sighed softly as you became a bit more conscious, and a now slightly more awake Steve threw a large arm around you, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“Don’t get up yet,” he mumbled softly against your ear. You nodded and relaxed further into the slightly stiff motel mattress, mentally snapshotting and framing this moment in time. Yet another to add in the five month scrapbook of your time with Steve. Time that you recognized was quickly running out.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes once more, to listen to Steve’s soft breaths as he inhaled the scent of you. It made your heart hurt knowing that within the next week you would no longer get to be in those arms. Knowing that you would have to wake up alone in a new apartment in a new country and wait for a new mission while the news on the television droned on about the nomadic Captain America being flushed out of hiding. That Steve was no more to you than a mission. That it was your fault that you had fallen so hard and so fast.

So you treasured it while you had it. Hummed contently as Steve massaged your side before peppering little kisses against your neck. Tried to absorb the stubborn tear that threatened to fall down your face at any moment.

“We have to leave today,” he whispered against your ear, sending goosebumps up your arm. “Natasha wants to meet you.”

Your eyes shot open and your brows momentarily furrowed, something you quickly attempted to play off with a wide smile. There was no way that she wouldn’t recognize who you were— despite being declared ‘dead’ years ago, you were one of the more esteemed spies in your community. What that also meant is that you had even less time with Steve than you’d expected.

“When are we leaving? Am I gonna have to get used to another time zone?”

“Probably a few. Nat’s already with Sam, but we heard there’s something weird going on in Scotland with Wanda and Vision.”

“Should I really be getting involved with this then? It sounds like some pretty intense Avenger business if the parts of the team you still communicate with are getting together. I can just stay here ‘till you guys are ready to come back.”

Steve gave you an ‘are you serious?’ look before breaking into soft laughter, “are you serious?” You nodded wordlessly in response. “Oh, you’re serious. I promise that you’ll be fine.”

“Well, things better not get weird,” you giggled right along with him, reaching out and grabbing Steve’s face so that you could look into his eyes. You took another mental picture of him. You just hoped it wouldn’t have to be the last.

——

After you prepared yourself for the long car ride ahead of you, you slipped your second burner phone out of the hidden pocket of your suitcase, you were met with several missed messages by the man who sent you on the mission in the first place.

What is the wait?

I was referred to you for a reason

Have you even found him yet?

I’m not paying for you to sit around and go to brunch all day.

Do I need to send more money for a plane ticket or something??

No, I’ve got it. He’ll be in custody by tonight.

He better be. Or else you won’t be around to see tomorrow.

You swallowed thickly. You wouldn’t be dealing with this in the first place if you weren’t so irresponsible. And if word got out that you were falling in love with your targets, your reputation would be in shambles. You should’ve known from the start that this could never end well.

Steve stepped back into the bedroom area, a goofy smile on his face at the sight of you sprawled out on your back on top of the dingy motel bed. “You ready?” he asked, sounding chipper. You assumed he was ecstatic that you were finally going to be able to meet his friends, which made your heart hurt even more.

For a moment you considered the possibility of not going through with it. Of going along with Steve, work, prestige, and that hefty bounty be damned. You would still be living life on the run, but you’d have Steve, and everyone else on his side on your side too. You’d have some semblance of a family, and maybe someday you’d have a real family and someone to grow old with.

You chastised yourself for getting soft before sitting up, “I’m ready.”

——

You weren’t ready.

You knew you had to move quickly, the sun was going down, and you’d made a promise that needed to be fulfilled, or god knew what would happen to you.

You reached for the volume dial on the radio portion of the car, and turned down the song that Steve was currently humming along to.

“We should probably get off on the next exit that has a gas station,” you prompted, “the tank’s getting pretty low.”

Steve’s eyes flicked down to the dashboard and he nodded in agreement, “you’re right. Good catch.”

Steve pulled the car off and drove you to the nearest gas station, humming pleasantly along to the music once again. Your stomach was twisting and untwisting knots with every foot you got closer to the station, knowing exactly what you would have to do once you arrived.

Somehow, this was the most nerve wracking moment of your career. Not infiltrating secret government operations, not pulling the trigger on a mark, not even seeing the message from Tony Stark asking for you to find a way to bring Steve in.

You hurried into the main building of the station, making up an excuse on the spot to go inside. You made your way into a bathroom stall, and slipped the phone you hid away earlier out of the extra pocket in your pants.

Your hands shook as you dialed the first two numbers. You took one last deep breath as your finger hovered over the final number. You had one last chance to change your mind, to go back out to the car like nothing had happened because nothing had happened. You would drive a little longer before staying in another shitty hotel, and think about how you made the right decision as you curled up next to Steve’s warm body.

But you couldn’t. You were given this mission, and you needed to complete it.

You pressed the last nine, immediately connecting with an emergency service operator. You gave them the tip that you had seen Steve Rogers pumping gas into a black Honda Civic, and provided them with your location. With every word, your voice trembled a little more. You were grateful for your proximity to a toilet, as the lump inside of your throat threatened to force the contents of your stomach up with every passing moment.

You hung up the phone and looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You could barely recognize yourself now, and you weren’t sure if that was from the flagrant betrayal of your partner, or the undermining of your own personal rules for the past five months of your life.

After reflecting on what you’d done for a few minutes, you made your way back to the car. You sat down in the passenger seat, lip trembling as you thought about Steve, and the fact that you’d laid a trap for someone you had such strong feelings for.

Steve sat down just a few minutes later, a smile on his face, and snacks from the gas station in his arms. As he passed you a water bottle, he couldn’t help but notice the tears slipping down your face.

“Hey, what‘s wrong? Are you alright?” he asked, dropping the rest of the items on his lap and leaning over the middle console to console you.

You began to full-on sob now, each tremble of your body filled with regret. “I’m sorry, Steve. I am so sorry,” you repeated.

“No, no, you’re okay. What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning as he wiped your tears away with his thumb.

“I- I had no other choice,” you wailed, “I’m sorry.”

His brows creased and he pulled away from you, betrayal evident in his features, “oh.”

You swallowed hard and shook your head.

“So this was the plan all along?” he questioned. Your lack of response seemed to answer the question for him. “Was any of this real?”

“All of it was, Steve,” you all but whimpered out.

He sighed deeply and leaned his head against the headrest, eyes squeezed shut. He seemed to be searching for the words, but couldn’t quite put together what he truly wanted to say. It was silent in the car for a moment, aside from your quiet sniffles.

“I loved you,” he finally said, hurt evident in his delivery. The admission shook you to your core. You almost couldn’t believe that the first time you were hearing it was after you had put him into such a terrible situation. After you turned in someone that you cared about for your own gain.

“I know,” you looked away from Steve in shame, the look of hurt on his face now permanently imprinted in your mind.

The sound of sirens began to fill the air. Not too long after, you noticed the unmissable blue and red of emergency vehicles approaching your own. It was time.

You unlocked your door and exited without another word. You refused to look back to the car, keeping your head down and your eyes squeezed shut, knowing that if you had to see Steve being taken away, you might never get over the permanent sick feeling you were currently in the midst of.

You walked right inside of the building, stopping in front of an aisle of chargers and finally looking back at the mess that you had made.

“What’s going on out there?” the clerk asked from behind the counter, peeking out the large glass windows.

“I don’t know,” you feigned ignorance and casually shrugged, ignoring the fact that the sight of about a dozen police and SWAT vehicles was tearing you up inside. What were they going to do to him?

You turned away from the scene once again, pretending to browse through the low quality electronics next to you. You heard some yelling, a bit of a struggle, then it was all over.

The coast was clear. Your mission was over.

You left the store without purchasing anything. You moved sluggishly as you got back inside of the now abandoned vehicle.

You started the car once again. This time without the radio playing overplayed pop songs, and without Steve happily humming along. You stared blankly ahead of you, feeling numb above anything else. Steve's words resonated in your mind, bouncing around in your head as you attempted to make sense of what you just did.

Guilt was beginning to creep up on you in a way that you’d never experienced before. You immediately felt haunted by the ghosts of your memories with Steve. Of every entry in your mental scrapbook, of the final image of the hurt on Steve’s face as he confessed his true feelings for you. Of all, you were left with one terrifying thought.

You loved him too.

[urban-homesteading]

Hey do you know what kind of tools I should buy if I want to move into a house? It won't have a yard yet, but fingers crossed for the future. Thank you!

Congratulations on the new house! Since you said that there's no yard yet, I'm going to focus only on tools I use inside my house and ignore gardening and lawn maintenance.

What tools should you have around your house?

So here's a pretty simple list that will cover most minor problems you will encounter.

Hammer

Cordless power drill

Screwdriver set (grab one with the ten basic sockets)

Drill set

Adjustable wrench

Level (bubble works, but I upgraded to laser and it makes life so much simpler)

Tape measurer

Utility knife

Flashlight

Extension cord

Step stool

Spare batteries

Toolbox (or even a cardboard box, just make sure you have somewhere to return your tools or they will escape to the four winds)

So how to acquire these tools while maintaining zero waste?

1) Start with your research

If you are completely unfamiliar with tool brands and the features available on tools, do a little research. Visit the websites for Sears, The Home Depot, Lowe's, Menards, True Value, Ace Hardware or any retailer that sells tools, and take a look at their new selections. Most websites organize tools in a straightforward way so you can easily find what you're looking for.

Head to a local store to get a firsthand look – many tools will be on display and out of the box so you can actually pick them up. You'll see the most-recent models, from low-end to top-of-the-line. Make notes on the prices and available features (especially relating to safety). This is your base from which to work when evaluating prices.

The next step is to look at online auction sites, such as eBay, to get an idea of prices for used tools. This gets a bit tricky because you'll need to really look at the age and condition of the tools as described by the seller. But again, make notes for a range of features and prices. Don't try to list everything you see – just make a list of price ranges for the tools, with notes on the variances in relation to brand. For example, for circular saws that range in price from $30 to $60, jot down what separates the bottom-priced tool from the top.

Head over to pawnshops as well. Pawnshops only buy items they know they can turn around and sell, so they won't have tools that don't work (everything they purchase is tested), and a pawnshop won't carry poor-quality brands. Also, the prices will accurately reflect the current value of tools in the marketplace. Make sure you visit operations that are members of the National Pawnbrokers Association, as these businesses abide by a code of ethics established by the association.

2) Name Does Matter (For the more expensive tools)

Now that you have an idea of what you'll expect to pay, it's time to consider how you'll evaluate and decide what to buy.

It used to be that if a name brand was good, it was good.  But I have found that the ‘good’ name brands have been sold so many times that most manufacturers are coasting on their reputation and they are the same quality as the ‘cheap’ tools.  Even worse, manufacturers will have different quality tools that are sold by different stores.  For example, a DeWalt power drill sold at a Home Depot will be better quality than a DeWalt Power Drill sold at Walmart because DeWalt will have two different manufacturing plants and they will send the lower quality ones to Walmart, since Walmart demands that DeWalt sell them to them at a cheaper cost or else they won’t buy from them at all.

My personal rule of thumb is buy cheap for the first one, then if you use it so long or so much that it needs replaced, buy expensive quality the second time.  This prevents you from spending hundreds on tools you’re only going to use a couple of times.

3) Where To Buy

You can start your shopping by revisiting some of the places you accessed when doing your research. Clearly you'll save money on shipping if you go to a local operation or an individual. Remember to test and examine tools closely no matter where you shop.

Pawnshops As mentioned earlier, pawnshops are a good bet for buying tools. You're going to find better-known brands that are probably on the higher end of the quality and price spectrum. Although, you're going to have little to no negotiating room on price compared to if you were buying from an individual.

Thrift Stores A thrift store may be a little less reliable for quality, and you'll probably find a lot less availability, especially at a thrift store that obtains its wares through donation. However, those that aren't donation-based aren't going to want to develop a bad reputation by selling inferior items.

Live Auctions Check local notices for potential auctions in your area. You may have a good chance of finding quality tools, but “auction fever” may set in, and you could wind up overpaying if you are bid up. These may be a good source for large equipment.

Garage Sales You could score the best deal at a garage sale, as the seller may be less likely to know the value of the tools being sold. Sellers will also be more open to price negotiation, and you can offer a bundle price for several items. Quality is going to be your biggest concern, so look these tools over really well.

Flea Markets These are similar to garage sales when it comes to negotiating, but the seller at a flea market will probably be more knowledgeable on price. Some flea market vendors have access to surplus or closeout suppliers, so you could see a potential mix of newer and older tools that haven't sold well at retail.

Classifieds Search online or newspaper classifieds under the equipment and tools categories. You may see a set or combination of tools listed as one price, which can be a good deal. As with garage sales, look these tools over carefully.

Online Websites offering tools are almost too numerous to mention, but eBay is certainly one that comes to mind. Check the seller ratings and reviews when shopping on auction sites. You'll also want to take a look at Amazon, which offers a lot of items, both new and used. Overstock.com, for example, has surplus items and may be a good source for refurbished items. You can often get limited warranties.

Retail Speaking of refurbished items, you may do well by looking at the clearance aisles at hardware stores and home centers. Sometimes they will heavily discount tools that have been returned. Check the reason for the return because it can be merely cosmetic.

4) Be an Inspector

On corded power tools, examine the electrical and basic mechanics of the tool. Aside from plugging it in and turning it on, thoroughly inspect the cord. Look for any visible defects, such as a crimp (what looks like a big dent), or if the cord is bent at a severe angle. A thick wad of electrical tape will be a big tip-off that something might not be right. Also take a look at where the cord meets the tool to see if it's heavily worn or loose. Closely examine the prongs of the plug. A slight bend on one of the prongs isn't a big deal, but if the metal looks heavily worn at the bend, it may be close to failure. And don't forget to check out the switch to see if it is loose or cracked.

Cordless tools present their own challenge. If you've ever looked at the price of replacement batteries, you know they can be quite pricey. Some are very expensive in relation to the cost of a new tool and can be as much as half or more of the cost of a new tool. Plus, it's hard to tell if the battery will hold its charge for any length of time. Sure, it may work fine in the short time you test it, but it's difficult to determine if it will hold a charge for longer than a few minutes. Only opt for cordless tools that you know are at most a couple of years old. Refurbished units are your best bet here.

With both corded and cordless power tools, be sure all the parts and guards are there. It's a bonus if the case and operating manual are included (although you may be able to find a copy of the manual on a tool manufacturer's website). You can easily find replacement accessories, such as saw blades, for many tools because the standards for accessory sizes are pretty consistent.

While you can't exactly take a small screwdriver and dismantle a power tool to look at its inner workings, you can search for a few telltale signs that all may not be well. Be prepared to use all five senses.

Take at look at the motor vent area of the tool (which looks like little slits in the housing). Ideally, you want this to be free of any sort of dirt, grime or buildup – a tall order for a used tool, but a good indication of how well it has been maintained. While inspecting this area, look for any burn marks or smoke trails (take a peek at the switch area as well). These would be clear indications that there's been an electrical problem. But just in case the evidence of a fire has been cleaned up, give the vent area the old sniff test for odor of smoke.

Keep the focus on this area and turn on the tool. You don't want to see smoke or sparks emitting from the housing. Notice how the tool feels in your hand while it's running. Look for intermittent operation or jerkiness. Yes, a power tool will vibrate in your hand, but you should be able to control it. If it feels like the tool could jump right out of your hand, there could be issues. Listen to the tool. Is it making erratic sounds or grating noises? Think back to other tools of the same type you're inspecting. Does the used tool sound significantly different?

You can look for specific things such as the movement of the blade in a circular saw or table saw. With the tool off and unplugged, move the blade around to see if there is a significant wobble to its motion. An old blade may be the culprit, but the arbor (the metal rod on which the blade is attached to the saw) may be bent. It would be difficult to replace and not worth purchasing the tool.

These tools will be a pretty good head start and will enable you to repair most minor work around your home.  

[shintorikhazumi]

“CABBAGE”

A/N: First, I wanna apologize to the Diakko day mods that reviewed a completely different fic for me that was supposed to be my entry, but then... boom new diakko day entry. I’m sorry ;-;, I just couldn’t figure out a flow that would still have what I had in mind. Uwu, sorry for using up your precious time.

Soulmate, non-magic? AU. Cliche stuff, common trope. STILL. I’m using it. Fun fact, I slaved away for this for two/three days hoho~ peak procrastination, don’t encourage it. Also on ao3, but I have a habit of posting full chaps on tumblr. Teehee. This is... long... (could have been a crazy multi-chap, ey?) but I guess that’s what you get for trying to fit a full story with an AU setting that needs to be established. Sorry if it feels slow with regards to reaching DiAkko, but don’t worry, from when they come along til the end, you’ll have loads of them. Sorry for the pacing tho :((( I also apologize in advance if there are some OOC bits that y’all might not like. Not too confident in it, but hope you all like it. I DID NOT BETA READ THIS ANYMORE BECAUSE I’M TIRED OF THE LENGTH OF IT LMAO. Anywho...

Happy DiAkko day! Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

It was a normal thing, really. She had grown up with a thin chain slung around her neck, attached to another tiny metal thingy resting against the skin of her collarbone. On cold days, she would keep it in her pocket because god knows how weirdly tingly and-or painful that felt on bare skin. Sure she could have chosen to just wear it so that others could see it- actually, wasn’t she going against society’s rules when she hid it? She was, wasn’t she. Heck, it surprised her now that she’s realized it. Why hasn’t she been arrested yet? This is a crime isn’t it? Her mom, her dad, would they get to say their farewells once she got incarcerated-

“I can see it on your face, that you’re thinking about something totally stupid again.”

“Shut up, Sucy.”

“Just saying.” Sucy shrugs, going back to working on their chemistry lab activity. “I mean, I kinda just want you to focus on what we’re doing. Unless you want me to slip in some stuff in your project there.” She grinned in that evil little way the brunette had come to know her for.

“If I know you, which I do, you’ve probably already done that.”

“Akko! I can’t believe you’d accuse me of something like hurting my friends.” Sucy really couldn’t sell the ‘feigning shock’ act as her monotone words did little to convey emotion, and that forced gasp was probably just everyone else’s normal manner of breathing. Which was scary, now that she thought about it. Did that mean Sucy’s normal breathing was even less obvious? Oh god, now that Akko thinks about it, she would sometimes joke in her head about how she often wondered whether or not Sucy was actually dead during sleepovers.

‘I mean, come on! She sleeps like a corpse in a coffin! And she always looks so pale-’

“I knew you were thinking about something stupid again.” Once more, her thoughts were brought to a halt by that lazed, snarky voice that could only belong to her best friend who shared her mutual desire to strangle one another.

“I was just wondering if you were undead or something.”

“Screw you.”

“Wish I’d find someone to do that...” Akko muttered under her breath, to which Sucy sighed. She had heard it, and immediately knew what the Japanese was about to get hung up on. Again. Like she always did.

A hand reaching over to pat her back in consolation, but Akko felt a little worse, feeling that small, hard material lightly tapping the area along with the rest of Sucy’s hand. Sucy chuckled, sympathetically. “I know you’re constantly in a state of heat, Akko-” Or not.

“I am not, you bitch!”

Sucy could stand to ignore that. “-But really. Are you really that obsessed with finding your soulmate? We’re all young and all that jazz that those old hags keep yapping about. You have a lot of time, you know?” She smiled a sincere smile this time, trying her best to comfort her friend. “And besides, even though it’s something written on official print that most people find their soulmates at sixteen, most isn’t all.”

Akko felt a little better. Sucy could be an asshole, but as a best friend, she really knew what to say to Akko sometimes.  

“-That’s basic English that even you can understand.”

She takes it back. She takes some of her heartfelt gratitude back. “I hate you.”

“Aww, I abhor you with all of my non-existent heart as well.” Sucy smirked, swatting Akko’s attacking hand away. “Muah~” She threw in a wink for good measure.

“Ughh, oh gosh... Professor Croix!” Akko bemoaned to their supervising teacher. “Can I please use the emergency shower? And eyewash. I think Miss Manbavaran got her unholy sappiness spilled all over me.”

Croix sighed, rubbing the spot between her eyes with her thumb and index finger. Not this again. “Can’t you two ever pipe down in my class?” She sighed. “PLEASE?!”

“Nope.” -Was the deadpanned response.

“I now see why you guys are friends.” Croix groaned, walking over to their table. “You little shits just won’t give me a break. And yet, you’re so behaved with Chariot.”

“Hey! Sensei, cursing your students is bad!” Akko scolded, before adding, “Besides, this and that are separate matters. Prof Chariot is just sweet and so nice, you can’t bear the weight of guilt of hurting her. Right?” Akko turned to Sucy who just nodded.

“Shut it, Kagari. That is not a valid rea- wait... maybe it is.”

“See?”

Her head was starting to hurt. Just why had she decided to be a teacher in place of any other job involving chemistry? Really, there were so many other things she could have done!

Just as she was about to return the verbal jabs, a gentler voice inserted itself into their conversation. “Umm... guys, professor, the other students are being distracted by your... um... exchange.”

Three pairs of eyes blinked, before two widened in apologetic shock, while the other seemed to gleam in pleasure. “Sorry, Lotte.”

“Sucy, please try to look even the slightest bit sorry.”

And disappointment replaced them right away.

“Tsk.”

“Sucy... we will be having a talk back in our room.” Akko heard that audible gulp, reaching for her friend’s hand under the table, squeezing support.

“Don’t die.” She whispered.

“You too, Akko.”

“Noooo! How? I don’t even live with you two!”

Lotte was about to respond that Akko always stayed over, anyway, but the frantic screams of their teacher took the words far away from her mind.

“Akko! Akko! Your solution is bubbling! Wait, that’s not supposed to do that-” Croix’s concern was justified as in a matter of a split second, everyone in their immediate circle was covered in some bright pink substance. “SHOWER, EMERGENCY SHOWER-”

“W-we won’t all fit, Professor!” Lotte had begun tearing up, wondering if she was about to die from whatever toxic chemical their beloved dunce must have mixed in. Maybe if she prayed to something somewhere out there, the spirits of nature would take hers and maybe she could live as some kind of forest sprite in some alternate magical world, and crap, she was becoming delusional.

“Hoho~ What a nice outcome~.”

“Manbavaran!”

“Relaaaax, I switched out all of Akko’s components for some of my stuff. It was a precaution.” She smiled, unbelievably innocent-looking. “...and maybe added a little surprise.”

“Su.CY!” Akko lunged forward before being stopped mid-air, caught by the collar.

“Akko. Sucy. I’ll see you in the office later.”

“...your office?” They seemed amazingly unfazed. They’d probably been so used to being there that they must see it as a lounge of sorts. But no, Croix wasn’t going to be defeated by teenage rascals that were the cause of her hair prematurely turning white. No.

“Nope.”

“Th-then, Finneran’s?” They weren’t completely scared of the aforementioned teacher. She just gave them such an earful, sometimes they’d joke to Lotte about needing hearing aids at some point.

“No.” Croix’s smile grew despicably wide and dark. “Holbrooke’s.”

Lotte sighed in sympathy. Well, she’d expected this development sooner or later. “I’ll wait for you by the usual bench.”

//-//-//-//-//

A week of suspension. One week off school, no school or class-related updates allowed from classmates, and only check-ins and work drops from teachers. That was... surprisingly light after all the trouble they’d accumulated over the past first month of the semester. Or maybe it was because it was just the start of the school year that the headmistress really wanted as little to go wrong as possible. Preferably nothing would go wrong. Or it could also be the fact that they were in their senior year, and the teachers really wanted all their students to graduate.

But you could never tell with a group as rowdy as the ‘witches’ of Luna Nova International Institute. They were rightly labeled as such with the cursed terrors they had inflicted, every incident they’ d caused all over the school premises and beyond.

If it wasn’t Akko and Sucy, it was Jasminka somehow being able to sneak in and out of the classroom and buy out the entire snack section of the cafeteria, and making it back to class without anyone noticing. With her size, it was some kind of scary magic trick. If it wasn’t that either, then it was Constanze constantly installing who-know’s-what in the schools’ computers. It it wasn’t her, then it was Amanda and Hannah pulling at hairs, or cutting at each other’s necks, then the next thing you know they’re either making out in public, or making out in public... with Barbara. There was also Lotte when she was in her wild states of fangirling after a new Night Fall release. People tended to keep a safe distance from her during those times. (She’d once shaken a girl unconscious out of her sheer excitement at the mention of, ‘Oh, I read the latest release too’.)

Never a dull day with them.

Scarily so.

Holbrooke had smiled at them kindly as always, but there was just a little something else behind it that felt like Akko and Sucy were about to die on the spot.

“Please. I beg of you. Your first two years, we tried to overlook all your mischief as it did not pose any threat to the masses, only towards you and your friend group... well... physical harm or threat, at least. I don’t know how many people are psychologically scarred because of you.” She had said that, but they didn’t know if it was a joke, a serious statement, or both.

After being given twenty blank pages to write their usual apologies on- they shared a laugh, thinking back on when Amanda got fifty-, the pair made their merry way to the bench just by the school gate where Lotte sat, chatting alongside and excited Barbara, a Hannah with a fond smile directed at her life-time partner, and Amanda who was carrying both their bags for them, waving goodbye to Constanze and Jasminka who looked like they were just leaving.

“Aww, didn’t get to catch my little friend.” Akko pouted, wanting to hug Conz as she always did. She was so cute. And soft. Like a plush. Always calming Akko down.

“She’s gonna shoot one of her tiny lazers at you again. Those actually burn.” Amanda reminded, laughing as she remembered what Lotte told her about why they were late. “And I heard you two got some quality time with the big woman upstairs?” Her grin widened. “How many?”

“Twenty.” They responded in synch, hands aching from the memory.

“Heh... not bad. Doesn’t beat my record though.” She cackled, slinging an arm over Hannah’s shoulder, Akko not missing the glint on her left ring finger. How nice.

“Don’t egg them on, idiot.” Hannah sighed, peeling the limb off her. “And you all got nothing on these two.” She pointed a thumb to the still excitedly conversing pair. “They wrote a fucking novel for their apology. Literally. But the teachers were so tired of reading that they weren’t made to write apology notes anymore.”

“Hey! Cleaning the bathrooms aren’t the best either!” Barbara, now done with her talk with Lotte, turned to pinch the ginger’s arm.

“I mean, we all have cleaned them at some point.”

“True, true.” The group nodded in consensus.

“...”

“This is not a very good fact.” Barbara pointed out, and they all laughed, the ones seated slowly getting up, everyone ready to go home.

As they exited the gate, they all waved their goodbyes, Akko and her two best friends heading one way, and Amanda and her girls the other. Just as the sun was setting at that hour in the afternoon, red eyes caught the reflected glimmer of light against the three bands on each girl’s ring finger. Those same eyes traveled to similar hoops donned by the pair walking quietly in front of her, hands brushing by one another.

Really. She was happy all her friends had found their destined ones. Some partners may look to be as mismatched as Sucy and Lotte, and some cases were as rare as the three-way between the snarky British girls and their American idiot, but... the system had worked some magic in perfectly matching people, it seemed. They all seemed happy with who they had.

Akko didn’t know if this was some kind of spiritual occurrence like fate or the likes, or if this was just one ginormous scientific experiment on billions of guinea pigs across the globe, but... Akko wanted in on it too.

Placing a hand over where her heart was, she felt for the metal against her chest, clutching it through her uniform blouse.

Just when would her “soulmate” come?

//-//-//-//-//

Their first stop, as per usual, was the small apartment complex that Lotte and Sucy lived in. When their parents had discovered that these children had found the one meant for them, they were more than willing to help the girls move in together, and get used to a life-long companionship. They trusted them as they were both capable and level-headed, and Akko was so happy that her friends were happy. She always was.

Lotte invited her in. As always. And Akko should’ve accepted like she always did as well, but somehow, today... she just didn’t feel like it. So she made a random excuse, something believable enough, like how her parents had asked her to make dinner because they’d be home late, and the Fin just had to let her go, even if she felt something was off, and that the brunette might just be lying.

There had been a time when Lotte and Sucy had just gotten together that Akko seemed to distance herself from her best friends. They soon found out it was out of her concern that she might be intruding on their relationship, or bothering them, taking away from the time the pair could spend alone together as a couple. Obviously, they had never seen Akko as a nuisance, and were saddened she would think of such things.

With a talk, reassurances, and clarifications in place, their bond as friends became ever stronger, and more trusting.

But Akko still wanted to be considerate. Out of love.

...and maybe a little envy that made her want to distance herself from the sight of people with fulfilled partnerships.

Maybe she was just a sore, lonely loser who couldn’t truly be happy for her friends.

Who knows.

After jogging the rest of the way home, a simple five-minute distance away from the apartments, she reached that familiar wooden gate, the name plate “Kagari” shiny and clean, like her mother liked it. Pushing the swinging portion open, she walked up the driveway, smiling at her share little garden with her Mama. Looks like the vegetables were growing up healthy. Maybe she could try some new dishes out and have her friends give her feedback. The usual agenda.

“I’m home!” She called out in the foyer, shoes slipping off and set neatly to the side. A habit strongly instilled in her since childhood. “Mama?” The scents of vegetables and meat, and was that... cookies! Her mom was baking cookies! “Mama!”

Padding down the hall and entering the open living room, she found her father splayed out, snoring on the couch with a newspaper covering his face. Giggling to herself, she continued her way into the kitchen, spotting the one she’d been looking for, ear buds in and swaying to some music only she could hear. Akko smiled. Her mom was so youthful, she was such a girl. With her bright pink apron and bunny slippers, and impeccable manners and home skills.

“Ma~ma!” She called, hugging her mother’s waist from behind.

The older woman yelped, spatula flying into the air, but with Akko smoothly catching it and licking off some of the sauce on it. She tried not to look into those disproving eyes, and simply released her mother and went to wash the utensil.

“Akko...”

“I said I was home! You didn’t hear me, mama. This is revenge.” She grinned cheekily, her mother sighing before a fond smile played on her lips.

“Fine, fine. But just this once, okay?”

“Hai~” Akko gave a mock salute, enjoying this moment with her mother as the her co-brunette rolled her eyes fondly. Akko walked up to her, kissed her cheek, and attempted to “appease” her mother by offering her exemplary culinary services- or so her dad had once claimed. “Let me help you out?”

Unable to keep up the annoyed act longer, her mother slipped into giggles, turning to gather her daughter into her arms and pepper kisses all over her hair. “Thank you, baby. Please chop me up some of the veggies in the bag by the sink.”

“Roger!”

And they shared another laugh at the voice coming from the other room, screaming a sleepy, “WHO’S ROGER?! ANOTHER BOY-”

The usual always felt so good.

//-//-//-//-//

Dinner had been fairly uneventful. Her cousin- the relation fairly distant- who currently lived with them wasn’t home still, just like always. She knew he was always busy at school, and with the little business her father had him manage, so that was a normal thing as well. She had ended up just confessing to her parents what she’d done in school this time, in hopes that her being honest instead of them finding out via a phone call from school first would ease the inevitable punishment awaiting her.

It... kind of helped. Kind of.

Her father had laughed so hard, clearly amused at her and Sucy’s antics. Her mother sighed deeply, not knowing if she should even still be disappointed anymore. Akko and school accidents and incidents weren’t uncommon at all, after all. It wasn’t a surprise. Really, the biggest school-related surprise they’d gotten was the fact that Akko wanted to take a science-related course instead of an arts one. They knew it had always been her dream to be a performer. So why was she taking that when Luna Nova offered the Arts as well. It was something they would forever wonder about.

Akko was usually so open and honest with them in just about everything, but this was one thing she would never clear up with them. And they could never understand why. There was definitely a deep reason behind it. But why did she have the need to keep it to herself? They worried, but they also believed in her, that she would tell them if she needed to. She was that kind of child.

They hoped.

Kissing her parents good night, She walked away from the kitchen banter of who should wash the dishes between the two adults, and trudged up the wooden stairs to her room. Akko had offered, but they said she should just rest up. She looked like she had a long day. Besides, she had a week to help out at home. Akko shivered at the thought of being worked like a mule. That was a joke of course, but her mama could be so Spartan sometimes.

Her door clicked close, and she immediately found herself face-first in the soft covers of the lower bunk of her bed, lights of the room still down. Originally, the Kagari’s had been expecting twins because of how large Akko’s mother’s stomach had been. Apparently, they were simply blessed with a very healthy baby. (She was a fair bit taller than her mother, and had a good height for a Japanese woman). As Akko grew up, however, she insisted to keep the bunk as it seemed like it could be useful to turn into her own little fort. Plus, sleepovers wouldn’t be much of a problem in terms of space.

Flipping onto her back, she stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars pasted onto the top of her ceiling. It was fairly high up, with this side of the house being designed a little differently, the roof of Akko’s room forming a dome. This was at her request as a child after attending one of Professor Chariot’s public lectures on stars as a child. Akko had since then been hooked to them, the fading glow of the stickers allowing her sights of the constellations she’d painstakingly formed, sticking each point one by one with the help of her dad and a ladder.

She had been saving up lately to buy one of those small, portable planetarium projectors. She didn’t want to outright ask her parents for one, and she had taken a few secret part-time jobs to make up for the amount she needed. Little by little, she was getting close to her goal. She’d have one someday. One day.

Her eyes felt heavy all of a sudden, an arm moving to rest over them as her breathing slowed, thoughts drifting to stars and constellations, and myths, and tales, and fate, and...

Her world shut down.

//-//-//-//-//

“Atsuko. Atsuko, get up. Akko. Wake up, bloody hell, you sleep like a log!”

“Mmrrnghmm... eh?” Blinking her eyes open, she spotted a young man, brown hair just like hers, dressed in a cardigan and slacks, looking ready to go out on some date, or the like, or maybe he had more business as usual. “Andrew.”

“Akko.” He responded dryly. “It’s eight in the morning. I know it’s the weekend, but really, sleeping in isn’t a good habit.”

Rolling over to shield her eyes from the intrusive sunlight and man, she waved him away sloppily, ready to get back to rest, body feeling heavy for some reason.

“Akko!”

“You really do take my mom’s place when she isn’t around, Andrew.” Akko complained, sitting up, if only to get Andrew to pipe down. “Alright, I get it.” She rubbed the sleep away from her eyes, stretching her body out and taking in a breath of fresh air. “But if you’re here, I’m figuring my parents are out?”

She received a nod, followed by an explanation. “They said they had a picnic date planned for the whole day.”

Akko pouted. “Aww, and they didn’t think to take me along? How mean~”

“They tried to wake you up, believe me.” Andrew scoffed. “You could sleep through world war two without problem, however.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Get out, please.”

“Later.”

“I’m asking nicely.” Akko whined, slipping out of her bed, realizing she hadn’t changed out of her uniform last night.

“After I tell you about our plans for today.”

A well-shaped brow raised in suspicion at the words. “Our plans?” Akko voiced. “What do you mean. ‘our plans’? I don’t have any plans of spending time with you today, as far as my knowledge tells me.”

“Not that you have mu-” Andrew was about to throw in the usual insulting jab, playful banter, but refrained. He did actually need Akko to go with him.

“Hmm?” The lack of a biting response didn’t sit quite well with Akko. Something was up with her cousin, and she was sure that she was about to find out just what.

There was an awkward pause in the air before the older boy cleared his throat; maybe he should begin with getting on her good side. “L-lovely weather we’re having today.”

“Just tell me what you want from me and leave.”

“We’re going to the mall, please help me.”

“Why?”

“...”

“Why?” Akko pressed. If Andrew wasn’t going to give her a good enough explanation, she wasn’t going to move a single inch.

“...It’s Denise’s birthday soon.” He confessed, and Akko actually backed off.

“Oh.” She immediately understood what Andrew wanted without him having to expound on his earlier statement. Really, he could be such an adorable dork sometimes, especially when it came to Denise.

Denise was Andrew’s set partner. She was a kind person, gentle, lady-like, intelligent, mild-mannered, but strong-willed. She was great. Too good for Andrew, Akko would tease at times. But really, they made such a good match. She liked Denise; she was sweet to Akko, exchanged treats with her, as well as tutored her from time to time, being in the same school and all. She also kept Andrew busy and out of Akko’s hair, so she was perfect! So if not for Andrew’s sake, Akko should at least do something nice for her friend.

“Give me half an hour. I’ll be ready by then.”

Andrew breathed a sigh of relief, offering Akko a grateful smile. “Thank you. I’ll see myself out then.”

“Finally!”

With a childish sticking of the tongue out at each other, a habitual thing they had formed, Andrew had closed the door to Akko’s bedroom, not forgetting to lock it behind him for privacy’s sake. Akko was thankful.

Instead of getting up, however, and preparing for the day with Andrew out of the room, Akko lay back down on the soft mattress, eyes trained to the top of the room again. As she saw her little clusters of stars and constellations, red ribbons connecting points one to the other, always to be linked even if they were far apart, never to be broken, her regular intrusive thoughts had begun making their way to the forefront of her mind again.

Fated people... soulmates, huh. Weren’t those terms just glorified ways of saying everyone was in some kind of arranged marriage they could never get out of? Wouldn’t there be at least one person averse to all this? Maybe? But why... did all the people she’s known, who’ve met their match-why did they all seem content?

Feeling for that familiar metal piece under her clothing, she pulled it out by the chain, observing it as it glinted against the morning light. Her finger traced over the engraving on the outside, admiring the workmanship, but frowning at the words.

She thought back on it all. How all this destined person stuff all started out, as the history books told them. Before the records of History ever existed, they said that the leaders of the ancient world had gathered together, seeing the ‘sorrow of the world’, and came to a decision of what to to do to make the world better in that regard. They decided that ‘LOVE’ was the answer, as cheesy as it sounded. And so a system was put into place that would overcome barriers and seas, both literal and figurative, of difference, and bring to mankind the meaning of true joy- Akko always found it incredibly sappy and cringey when it was laid out like that.

Like any system, there were the finer details that made it all work one way or the other. It is said that people are born issued with a ring to be worn on their person on all times. It was a mystery as well, how one could never seem to outgrow the ring. Like it was made to grow alongside you. It was made out of metal, however, and it made things all the more perplexing. Who knows what magic goes on behind all of this? No one knows who makes the rings, or who created this system; nor does anyone know who assigns partners to each other. All they’ve known are the facts that the rings were created, containing words that served to be a hint to who your soulmate is supposedly. When you meet that person, you’d just know. The words, they’d just make sense. It didn’t matter if it never did all your life. One day, everything would just click, apparently. That was how the words were chosen, they said. Then these rings would be distributed to countries and the government would be responsible in ensuring that they got to their rightful owners.

Honestly, this whole thing sounded like some deep cult-ish shit, and Akko was quite shocked that she- along with possibly millions, or billions- had never questioned it before. After all, it was the usual; as always, the norm. It could be something of a mysterious world movement that no one knew of, but with it simply claiming to have the goal of ‘bringing happiness to all citizens’, people hardly seemed to mind where it took them.

Akko remembered the first time she ever found it weird. She was in the fourth grade, and that day, they had learned the importance of the words on the rings. ‘Hints to finding your one, true love, their teacher had claimed, trying to rouse excitement from the students at the prospect of soulmates.

And while every other little girl squealed in joy and giddiness upon reading the words written on their rings, Akko had a look of distaste on her face at the sight of her words, immediately hiding the item from possibly prying eyes of her classmates who had already began to compare words with others.

She hated it. She had then ran home to tell her mother about it.

“Mooommm! Mom!”

“Akko? What’s wrong? You’re all sweaty and you still have your outdoor boots on-”

“Why does my word suck so much?”

“Huh?” The woman was lost for words, confounded by a simple question.

“Why does it suck so much? My word!  I mean...” Holding her ring out for her Mama to see, Akko continued on her rant. “What the heck does cabbage even mean?! IS HE A FARMER?! DOES MY SOULMATE LIKE CABBAGE THAT MUCH?!”

“Ah... well...”

“Why couldn’t it be something cool like yours and dads. ‘Eyes like rubies’, and ‘Rider from the north’ just sounds so badass and romantic! And then there’s me with CABBAGE.  Sure, the ring is pretty and all, but... WHAT IS CABBAGE?!”

“I... don’t know, sweetheart.”

Akko had felt so frustrated with her word, that she wanted to cry. “My soulmate sucks!”

Thinking back on those times, she sure was such a child. It wasn’t her soulmate’s fault that the government or whatever authority or higher power decided to describe him or her that way. If anything, her partner is a victim of slander. Even Sucy had it better with the description. Akko chuckled mirthlessly. What are those people thinking. Ah, her head was starting to hurt from overthinking all this.

“’Bring happiness to all citizens’, my ass. With a hint as weird and cryptic as this, how am I supposed to be ‘happy’ like everyone else?” Akko sighed once more, unclasping the chain from behind her neck, and taking her ring off, hanging it over her eyes, watching it dangle in the air, the elegant cursive of ‘cabbage’ pissing her off a little more than it should.

Along with the ring came a handbook of sorts. Akko’s sat atop her bedside drawer. In it were more rules, guidelines, and information to be taken note of, but they could only be read at certain ages, sections sealed off by some kind of technology that only unlocked come one’s birthday. An example of a rule was related to how to wear the ring. It didn’t seem to be a heavily imposed rule as Akko had done away with it all her life. It was that rings should be worn on your right ring finger so long as you hadn’t found your assigned partner, moving it to your left once you have. Akko had been ashamed of her word and had always carried it around her neck, hidden underneath her clothes. Her mother had scolded her for it in the past, but she didn’t care. She didn’t want to get teased by the other children for having such a strange hint. She had believed that it would give her a hard time.

And it still did. With it being so vague and odd, there was no way this hint made much sense to her, at all. Would she ever find the person her whole being was linked to for a lifetime?

Besides the rules came soulmate-related explanation for the rings and words. An instance of this would be that the meaning behind the words would only be revealed to them once they entered fourth grade. She never understood the significance of that. Why couldn’t one just read through everything and understand it all at once? Well, not that it mattered. She would soon be turning eighteen, and opening a section that made her feel just the slightest bit bitter.

[What to do if you haven’t found your soulmate yet.]

Sucy may have told her that each person had their own time, and that she was still young, and had plenty of years to go searching. But when everyone else around you had already found theirs by the “normal” designated time, you’d start to feel quite isolated and lonely, right? She was already different from the rest with the weird-ass word she was stuck with, and now she wasn’t even close to being on the right track to finding the person it was pointing to.

It was frustrating.

Three knocks and a voice followed suit. “Akko? Are you ready? It’s been about twenty-five minutes, but I didn’t hear any noise coming from your room. Are you actually okay?”

Right. Andrew.

“I’m fine! Sorry, I got lost in thought. Be right out! Maybe in fifteen! My bad, really.”

“It’s fine, I’m the one requesting a favor, after all!” Andrew responded through the wood, and Akko felt his presence leave her immediate area.

Hopping off her bed and grabbing her towel, she made her way to the bathroom. Maybe a cold shower would help her stop thinking about all of this for a few. She really should stop questioning the whole system of practically the whole world. It wasn’t good for her sanity.

Turning on the shower and soaking herself, her assumption of her endangered mental health was confirmed.

“AH, I FORGOT TO STRIP!”

//-//-//-//-//

“You sure took your sweet time getting ready.” Andrew commented, locking the door behind them and tossing the keys into his pocket as they got to walking. Opening the gate for Akko with a bow, they shared a laugh, going on their merry way down the street.

As often as they got on one another’s nerves, they undeniably enjoyed each other’s company. It was nice. Akko liked it to an extent. The conversation was fun, the exchanges never dull, it was time spent well. What she didn’t like about hanging around with Andrew were all the stares and glares she got from people around. Much like now.

It would’ve been great if it ended with just observation, but there was always that one brave (or maybe stupid) soul who would come up to the pair to ask if they were an item. The brunette pair would then proceed to do their usual schtick of jumping a meter away from each other, and pretending to gag whilst glaring.

“NO WAY. WITH HER/HIM?!”

And despite the denial, instead of feeling joy at the availability of Andrew- Akko assumed it was him that people always wanted to confirm about anyway- there was no delight, only some form of fear. The creeped-out kind maybe?

Continuing their walk, Akko slapped Andrew’s shoulder, hard. The boy looked like he could bite her.

“Ugh... it’s already such a pain in school when we have joint functions and people mistake us for a couple. I was hoping it was obvious we were related.”

Andrew scoffed at the statement. “I’m sorry, but I’m actually quite pleased I don’t look to be related to your ugly face.”

He deserved the stronger smack, Akko would say.

“AKKO! That hurt!”

“You know what else hurts? The fact that people can’t seem to get it in their heads that not every guy and girl walking next to each other are partners. Damn, and I used to think it was a good thing that I could use you to get out of awkward confession situations.” Sometimes people did that, despite the entire ‘destined partner’ situation. “Weird times.”

“You actually get confessed to? Hahaha, why? Guys must need glasses.”

The tall lad flinched at the held up fist. “I’m kidding. You’re actually growing up to be quite pretty Akko.”

Eyes wide one second, then smiling sweetly the next, a chill ran up Andrew’s spine at Akko’s reaction... that suddenly morphed into disgust, a hand pinching his side. “Ew, I kinda liked you better when you weren’t so gross and cheesy.”

“Ah- h-hurts, that, Akko, that stings, ouch! Let go! I was trying to be nice!” Andrew retaliated with his own pinch to Akko’s slightly rounded cheeks. “Let go!”

“You lwet gfho!” They released their holds at the same time, rubbing the sore spots on their bodies. “Why were you suddenly being all weird?”

“...ate...etter...man...”

“What was that?” Akko couldn’t understand any of Andrew’s incoherent mumbling.

“...My soulmate told me I should really try to be a better gentleman... to you...”

“Haha, she’s right about that! You’re such a dick!”

“Oi!”

Before Andrew could physically get back at her, Akko made a dash to the mall entrance across the street right as the street light turned green for pedestrians. “Loser has to buy the other ice-cream!”

“That’s cheating!”

“Maybe!”

//-//-//-//-//

“See? You’re all out of energy now because of how rowdy you were earlier today.” Andrew scolded, hands on his hips, a paper bag with the chosen gift in it, slung around one wrist.

“Y’think so? This is usually... hah... nothing... to me.” Akko panted, plopping down on one metal chair by the ice-cream bar. “Weird.”

Andrew sighed, deciding to cater to Akko’s needs since she was nice enough to help him out today. “I’ll get you a water. What flavor of ice-cream would you like?”

“Matcha-Vanilla~” Akko drawled, now slumped against the table, liking the cool surface against her somehow, heated cheek. “Go forth, my peasant!”

“Noted, your eminence.”

“Mm, mm!” Akko nodded in approval, arms going under her head to cushion it. Her eyes were getting heavy. Did all that walking around really make her that tired? Her head was starting to hurt, and her body still felt heavy. Just what-

//-//-//-//-//

“Akko. Akko! Atsuko!”

‘...Andrew?’

“Tsk. Should I call an ambulance?”

‘Andrew...’

“Excuse me, are you in need of any assistance for your friend? My family owns a hospital nearby and we could take her there.”

Akko felt Andrew’s hand supporting her suddenly tense. “Geh- Cavendish...”

“My, Sir Hanbridge. Date?”

“Cousin.”

“Hmm...”

Oh? Someone... A lady? What a nice voice. Somehow it was comforting to Akko. It felt warm, it felt kind, it felt gentle. For a voice to feel something rather than sound like something, Akko must really be out of it.

Hands.

Careful, tender.

“A-An... wha-”

“Akko! Don’t talk. Just rest.”

“Akko, huh. Is that her name? Miss Akko?”

“mmrm?”

“You’ll be alright.”

That voice. Akko wanted to believe it. Who...

Soft. Soft. Akko was leaning against something soft.

“You’’ll be alright.” Was said again.

“Akko, you’ll be alright.” Ah, Andrew. But somehow, Akko would rather hear those words from the other person currently holding her in her arms. She felt bad. Not just in the sick kind of way. What was she supposed to do again? Oh right, she was helping Andrew. Where was she? Was she causing trouble? Ah, what if she was bothering this sweet-smelling, comfortable-feeling, gentle-sounding lady.

‘Hey... you...’ Hmm, her voice wasn’t quite working like it should. Maybe she should try to express herself again. Clearing her terribly scratchy and dry throat, she managed to croak out a single word.

“So...rry...”

“It’s alright.”

//-//-//-//-//

White ceiling, the absence of sticker-stars. Dim lighting, the low thrum of the air conditioner unit, and the occasional sound of something dripping. The scent of antiseptic.

Her right hand felt uncomfortable, like something was stuck in it. She lifted it up, seeing a slim tube running out of some secure, clear tape.

“You’re in the hospital, idiot.”

“Never a quiet moment with you, Andrew.”

A sigh. “I was worried.”

“...Mm. I’m sorry...”

“You didn’t tell me you were feeling unwell.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Don’t lie.”

“Couldn’t tell.”

“Akko!”

“Say, Andrew. Who was with you earlier?”

“Don’t change the subject, Akko- huh?” Reprimanding words died on the boy’s lips as the question sunk in. “Ahhh.” Recollections of earlier events came in. “The daughter of the owner of this place.” He threw in a few other details he thought Akko would want to know. “High-class lady. This place does too.” He decided to humor her queries, knowing she didn’t want to argue with Andrew anymore. He didn’t either, not when she was like this. A time and place for everything.

“Hmm...” Akko hummed, sitting upright and looking out the window. Andrew panicked, stepping forward, but Akko shooed her cousin away. “She sounded nice.” Akko commented. “Was she pretty?” Somehow her mind wanted to know. Her heart was clenching in some unknown need to know more about a voice she barely registered, a touch she fleetingly felt.

“You could say that. I guess to most, she’d be considered gorgeous?” Andrew mused. “Weird hair though.” Was added as an afterthought.

“Heh...”

“Curious?” He didn’t say it in a teasing town, only genuinely inquisitive at Akko’s not-so-subtle expression of interest in someone she barely even met.

“No? Not really.” She responded, everything becoming still. “Can I go home?”

“Once your tests come in.”

“How long have I been here?”

“Overnight.”

“Mama and dad?”

“Dropped by while you were asleep. Uncle was sobbing buckets, but Auntie dragged him out because they both had work. They paid off the bill and said they’ll see you when we all get home.”

Akko sighed, dropping back against her pillows. “I can’t believe I’ve caused so much trouble in a span of, what, three days?” Covering her face with one of the pillows, she screamed lightly into it, the muffled sound concerning Andrew. “I have to apologize a lot to them. Have to make it up to them... I even had them spend a lot of money on -ow! Andrew!”

Retracting the hand he used to chop her head, Andrew huffed. “Stop that. Your parents love you, you’re not a bother. Shut it. If you really want to make it up to them, get some rest right now as we wait, and get better soon. I suggest you make some dinner if you’re well enough.” He knew she often had insecurities, and tried her best not to bother people so much. He’d observed it from her relationship with her two best friends. She really was just a ball of energy that she couldn’t help but cause scenes, though. People hardly minded, anyway. If only she realized.

“Duly noted.”

Andrew nodded, walking over to the bed and sitting at the edge, whipping his head about to glare at the  owner of the leg that had just attempted to kick him off.

“You’re making the foam awkwardly sink. It’s uncomfortable. You’re inconveniencing the patient’s recovery.” Akko grinned, trying to get rid of the stuffy atmosphere that had settled by stirring up another banter session.

“Could you settle down for once?”

“I mean, I could.”

“Unbelievable.” He chuckled. “Fine, fine, I’ll give you your space. I’m going to the store. Want anything?” He offered, since the ice-cream he initially was supposed to treat her to as thanks was long since forgone on some cemented floor, probably already cleaned up by the workers of the shop.

“Orange juice.”

“Coffee? Understood.”

“Ass.”

“The good ass genes run in our family.”

“Oh my gosh, you did not just say that.” Akko guffawed, waving her hands, eyes sparkling with pride at the crude joke of her prim and proper, perfect-gentleman cousin.

“I did not just say that.” Andrew smirked. “Now rest before your fever comes back from all that tension you release. Good thing you’re off school for a while.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“I’ll be back in fifteen.”

“Hai~”

“Don’t disappear.”

“...”

“AKKO!”

“I won’t, I won’t!” She giggled, dropping the tease. “Now scram!”

“I swear to god...”

And with that, she was alone again.

Great. More time alone with her thoughts. And what better way to occupy that blank space that was her mind then to fill it with all her doubts, insecurities, and questionings.

One particular question stood out at that moment.

“Who... was the owner of that voice...” Along with that single question came a wave of interconnected ones that Akko could not understand. Why was there this sudden desire to just... know.

What did she look like? How tall was she? Was she fair-skinned? Tanned? Long hair? Short hair? Curled or not? How old was she? Were they the same age? Was she an older lady? Was she maybe in the same grade? From the haze that was her memories, it seemed Andrew knew her? An acquaintance? Why couldn’t he give Akko more details besides insulting that woman’s hair? Where was she from? She had an accent. British? Scottish? Did she live around these parts? Why...

Why was Akko so curious?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Andrew, you know you can just, like... come in, right? You know I can’t even get up to open the door for yoouuu...huuu...” With the door swinging open to reveal the person on the otherside, Akko could only hope that she did not appear to be the stupid-looking gay dance she most probably was. “-...huuu...who...?”

‘Beautiful.’

“I apologize for the intrusion, but I just wanted to check on you. Oh, you may not even know me, I’m sorry. I should probably introduce myself, isn’t that right? Oh blood hell, Andrew, telling me to check on someone I barely know because you want to go off somewhere...” Akko heard her mutter that last bit under her breath before watching this gorgeous lady seemingly recover her senses. “-Ah, apologies, um... sorry! Wow, I suppose I’m saying that too much, aren’t I? We didn’t exactly ‘meet’ earlier, but... I don’t know, I was probably meddling in issues not concerning me, but... I couldn’t help but want to help you out. It was an automatic reaction as someone who has wanted to be a healthcare professional all my life, and I was so used to it, and then it just so happened to be Andrew and... well, you and- and I-” Fair skin, lithe, fairly tall frame, a melodic voice, gorgeous blue eyes hidden by long lashes and ...strange hair, due to an immediate bow upon spotting the confused gaze of the patient; this person was...

“You’re rambling, miss.”

Said Miss bristled, expression flustered and eyes darting about in her embarrassment. “S-sorry.”

Akko panicked at the saddened apology. She just made a pretty girl sad! “N-no! I-” Their eyes met and then it was one of the most magical and equally painful moments of Akko’s life, she concluded. “Hi.”

“Hello.” The girl nodded back in acknowledgement.

“Akko.” She blurted out. Then just like that she witnessed a world wonder contained in such a small room, in just one girl. There was just something in the way her eyes lit up that pleased Akko very much. It was as though she was the catalyst for such a breath-taking phenomena. Blue stars, passionately burning, brightly so, like her favorite celestial bodies. “...Rigel...” She murmured.

“Huh?”

“Oh? Huh? Eh, um...” Arms flapping about, she tried to graps control of the conversation, not knowing where it was going anymore. “Uh, my... name! My name is Akko! Ahaha, sorry ‘bout that.” --She scratched the back of her head sheepishly with the hand not attached to the IV tube.

“Miss Akko... Rigel?” She tilted her head, and by gods that was the cutest thing Akko had ever seen in her life. But Wait-

“Oh! No, nono... no hahaha.” She laughed, waving her hands in front of her, realizing that what she said had been mistaken as her name.

“I... My name is Kagari Atsuko, but you can call me Akko.” She clumsily reintroduced herself.

“And Rigel...?”

‘Is a blue star that is put to shame when in comparison to your ethereal ocean eyes-’

“Oh, it’s just... just a star I like, hahaha...ha..ha.” She needed to save this dying interaction, fast. She didn’t want this goddess of a lady to walk away just yet. Who was she? Why was Akko panicking so badly? Why was her heart running miles per second? Where did these confusing feelings stirring from her chest come from? Could this just be... Was this girl... Was she... could she be who Akko thought she was? She didn’t even know her name yet, but the way she made her feel, it was like some universal, natural phenomena that could only make sense in the context of... that. Who was she? Who was she? Who-

“Diana.”

Diana, apparently.

“Diana.” She tested, the name unfamiliar, but incredibly welcome and sliding off her tongue so naturally, and with ease. Like she was meant to know such a name all her life. “Nice to meet you.”

She patted herself on the back for a good greeting, with good manners, even happier when she received a soft smile in return.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

“No, no, the pleasure is mine, I mean... pleasure, I’m... feels good to meet you, I mean, because you saved me and all, from what I can understand, so pleasure, good feels- no- what am i saying?! I’m sorry, Diana, er miss? Diana? Miss Diana?”

“Diana is fine.”

Diana was indeed SO fine.

“Th-thank you for being so beautiful.”

“What?”

“Tha-thanks for saving me, I mean, helping Andrew out in saving me, but that means you saved me too, so I just thought I should properly thank you and all that and express gratitude because that’s the right thing to do, amiright? And of course I’m right so thank you, Diana, thanks for everything, and the hospital and the room and all, oh but you don’t own it, but your family does, so does that mean you own it-”

“Akko.”

“Yes?!”

“You’re rambling, Akko.”

Akko was a burning hot mess of foolishness, but if it prompted such heavenly giggles from such an angel- no a goddess, alongside her name that sounded divine coming from soft pink lips- that she was absolutely not staring at- then she hardly minded at all.

And then there was silence.

“So...”

“So...”

Diana awkwardly shuffled on her spot, the tip of her shoe tapping against the floor impatiently, hand fiddling with a button on her shirt. It took so much willpower for Akko not to direct her eyes there.

“I guess I’ll get going.”

“A-already?”

“Eh?”

“Eh?”

“Ah... I mean... if you have... stuff to do, I guess... I... shouldn’t be stopping you or anything of the sort, right?”

Akko didn’t like that frown, however miniscule it was, on Diana’s face.

“I... I’m a little busy, I apologize.” She spoke softly. Akko’s heart clenched, and she cursed her insensitive ways. “But... I can come back tomorrow? If you’d like?” -And it leaped up in joy just as quick. More time! More Diana! More getting to know her!

“Y-Yes! Of course! I’ll wait here for you! Pinky swear! I- woah...” The world was suddenly spinning, and Akko had to lean back for a moment, vision swimming in color.

“Akko!”

Said girl was beginning to get addicted to the feeling of Diana’s presence by her side. That was not necessarily a good or bad thing. She couldn’t get attached to her, not when she knew nothing about her. She couldn’t... be acknowledging these feelings blossoming out of nowhere without confirmation of whether or not this person was meant to be hers, and she was meant to be with as well. But she was addicting, Diana. A strong drug. Just one whiff and she was high on her existence.

“Geez, you should be resting. I’m sorry for bothering you, and keeping you up this long.”

Akko heard none of those words. Akko was curious. So Akko just had to check. Hands weakly grasping Diana’s cooler ones, fingers roamed, feeling around until they touched even colder metal... on Diana’s... left... hand.

“Akko?” The concern was palpable in her voice, Akko’s senses blurring the world out as her hands dropped to her side.

Frustrating.

She somehow hoped what she’d been experiencing these past few minutes were the signs of her finding her soulmate, but it seemed as though she may have been wrong. Maybe it was simply infatuation, or a shameless lust overtaking her in her weakened state.

It shouldn’t be this frustrating.

It shouldn’t be this painful.

She shouldn’t have been so impatient and jumped to subconscious conclusions.

Diana had already found her soulmate. Just like everyone else.

Everyone but Akko.

//-//-//-//-//

When she came to, it was dark. She felt much better than she had yesterday, and earlier on today. Turning to her right, she saw Andrew seated on a chair, back facing her as he was conversing with someone.

“I wonder what got into that girl? Her new friend seemed worried.” That voice...

‘Mama.’

“You mean Diana?”

Akko flinched at the name.

“Is that her name? My, she was so cute. If you weren’t already matched to someone, Andrew, I think you’d look good together.” Akko felt a twinge in her chest, only slightly soothed by the sound of Andrew choking on something, his drink maybe. Tea? Coffee?

“I’d rather not be involved with her like that.” Andrew responded after composing himself.

“Eehh-”

Akko couldn’t listen any longer. The pain of everything was just starting to come back. She just wanted to get away. Away from this place that kept reminding her of her chance encounter. She just wanted to go home. She just wanted to hug her mama.

“Ma...ma...” Her voice warbled. “Mama...” She tried, louder. Somehow her voice was so weak, the thought of it not being able to reach the person she trusted the most in the world, hurt. “Ma... ma... mama! Mamaaa...” Slowly, she regained her voice, cracked and unsteady. And finally she was heard. “Mama!”

“Akko!” Before Akko could even blink again, the woman was at her side, a hand brushing bangs away to clear her warm forehead, a refreshing kiss planted there. “Akko, my baby.”

“M-mama... Mamaaa...” She moaned out, engulfing the woman in her tight hold, sinking into a familiar scent. “Mama...”

“Yes, Yes. I’m here. I’m here, Akko.” She cooed, hands combing through chocoloate-colored tresses.

“Mama.”

“Yes?”

“I wanna go home.”

“Eh? But you aren’t okay yet-”

“Please. Let me go home...”

She felt her mother pull back. She couldn’t face the eyes seeking hers. “Akko? What’s wrong, sweetheart? You’re not feeling well, and yet you want to go home before you get better. Is something the matter?” Akko couldn’t lie to those.

But she could try.

“I just think I’ll be able to rest better at home. My... my fever isn’t that bad.”

“But you were just crying out for me...”

“I was just... feeling lonely. Please, Mama. Let’s go home.” She couldn’t say it was because she didn’t want to meet a certain lady, weird blonde hair and enchanting blue stars never leaving her memory. “Please...” Because more than the pain inflicted by her sickness, she couldn’t stand the squeezing of her heart, its labored pounding more burdensome than the throbbing in her head. “Please, mama.”

“Akko...”

“Don’t be such a selfish brat.”Andrew scolded, eyes burning into the Akko’s skin. “Didn’t you just say you didn’t want to cause anyone trouble?”

Akko deflated in her mother’s embrace, and the elder boy sighed. He really hated seriously hurting Akko, especially emotionally. “But... We can leave first thing in the morning tomorrow, if you prove to be alright.” He turned the other way, hiding his expression from the girl. “So just get better.”

“Andrew...”

“Get better soon.”

//-//-//-//-//

It was against institutional rules to be running about in the building at any given time. Crowded or cleared, the halls were not made for such dangerous sport. Workers constantly made their way through these corridors; some pushing wide carts carrying planned food and beverage for every patient in the hospital; some nurses walked along with important, and sometimes painstakingly prepared medicine and treatments for patients that Diana threatened to compromise should she bump into them. In other areas she could risk bumping into one of the sanitary maintenance people, infectious waste at the risk of being spilled all over.

And Diana grew aware of all these things, surrounded by them from a tender age. Yet at this moment, she was in complete disregard for them, her footsteps rushed and padding softly against a marbled floor. Her eyes scanned every plaque above each door she passed, counting off the numbers, and reading the letters, her trip on autopilot.

One more corner, just the end of that corner. If she rounded that, then walked past three more rooms- She was feeling a regretful that she couldn’t come by earlier, the colors of the afternoon sky telling her just how close she was cutting it to the end of visiting hours. Curse all the school-transfer procedures she had to sit through. They didn’t need to take that long, did they? But she had made a promise of sorts. She had promised her new... friend, Akko that she’d come by and see her. She must not keep her waiting. She didn’t quite understand what it was that made her so happy about the prospect that the other girl actually wanted to see her- Diana assumed as such with how she was acting yesterday. Really... it was amazing.

Diana herself couldn’t deny that she saw something different in Akko, a substance far beyond what others could offer her that suddenly shifted the usual motions of her world upon meeting this girl. All her life, so many people came along trying to woo her, claiming that she was the one defined by their flimsy phrases that never moved her heart. ‘Beautiful lass’, ‘doctor’s daughter’, titles among other things. She had even found out a few faked rings that had been promptly reported to authorities for the grave sin committed. Thus, Diana could trust no words written on silly little rings; only the one written on her own, worn about her left ring finger.

She hadn’t found her soulmate, no. And maybe this was against the universal rules of whatever matchmaking system had engulfed society, but Diana did not want to be caught in a trap of a forever she could not escape unless she was absolutely sure that this was it. Maybe it would be unfair to her soulmate; maybe it would throw them off; maybe they wouldn’t realize right away; but if there was one thing Diana believed in that was rooted in this entire system, it was that if you met the one meant for you, you would know.

Her mother told her so. And Diana trusted her mother’s words above all other words.

One more door, one more plaque. Diana readied a hand to knock against closed-...open? The door was... open. Did Akko have visiting doctors? They sometimes left doors open for quick checks to save time during rounds. But no, that did not seem to be the case. She was surprised to see one of the cleaning personnel of the hospital folding up the sheets of the bed, passing it to his companion before they changed the covers.

Approaching an elderly male of the pair currently clearing the room out of any trash possibly left behind, Diana respectfully inquired, “Um sir? Where is the occupant of this room?”.

“Hmm? Ah! Young Miss, what are you doing here? Oh, were you perhaps the friend of the little girl staying here recently?”

“You... could say that.” Diana muttered, unsure.

“Oh, then she must have just forgotten to tell, you ey? Already left, y’see. The little miss, along with her mother and some fine lookin’ gentleman. Do you think that could be ‘er soulmate? Ah~ young, concerned love.”

Diana tasted an inexplicable bitterness in her mouth, heart squeezing. “Y-young man?”

“Mm-mm! Handsome fella, looked kinda familiar, but maybe I’m just getting it on in years.”

That... couldn’t be, right? While Diana wasn’t one to be guided purely by feeling, priding in her rationality, she just knew that that couldn’t be. After all... Akko was the only one she’d ever felt this strongly for in the lifetime she’s lived so far. She’d swear on her family’s motto of ‘affection’ that she’d only offer her fullest romances to the one the universe had destined for her, corny as that may sound.

She just knew it. She just knew it was Akko.

So who-

Andrew.

She suddenly chuckled. Of course. Who else could that young chap accompanying Akko be? He was the one who came with Diana to the hospital, he was the one who had told her go take that first visit. So of course, logically, without a doubt, the man that Akko should have been with was Andrew. Of course.

And there was nothing to worry about, soulmate-wise. Diana knew Andrew already had someone. She’d met up with them constantly at banquets. There was no obstacle, no other person for Akko. Right?

Akko... Akko who wasn’t here. In this room. Gloom encompassed her heart as she stared at the room dimming bit-by-bit as the staff turned off the lights. They told her that they should get leaving, and Diana nodded, informing them she’d just do one last look over the room for any possible missed items, then she’d lock the room herself, to which the workers reluctantly agreed, unable to go against the owner’s daughter. Well, she was known to be a good kid, so nothing should be wrong with that.

Diana, now left alone, remained stood by the doorway that served as the only light source to the room for a few more seconds. It wasn’t like constantly looking into it would magically make the one she was seeking appear, huh? With a deep exhale, she closed the door behind her, frown tugging at the edges of her mouth.

“You said you’d wait for me.”

//-//-//-//-//

Scritch. Scratch. A line, then two. A squiggle, a letter. A bubble from brew-

...huh?

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping me with my homework?” Akko frowns at her companion currently mixing questionable substances on her floor-table in her room. “That is why you’re here, right?”

“Course not. What fun would that be?”

“Should’ve known better than to invite you over.” Akko muttered under her breath, getting back to the unending pile of chemistry homework she was sure Croix assigned to them out of spite. “And how did you finish this all, anyway?”

“I’m smart like that.”

“You’re mean like that. Why can’t you help me out at least?”

“I believe that learning for yourself is the best teacher.” Sucy replied, emotionless as always.

“No you don’t.”

“True.”

“Hah...” Akko gave up. Forget getting help from Sucy. That wasn’t a possible feat, now that she thought about it clearly. The girl was just bored out of her mind so she easily agreed to come over. Akko was sure of it. Without Lotte in the house, and on their fifth and final schoolday away, Sucy- who had slowly gotten used to the concept of companionship- must have just wanted someone around, regardless of whether there was flowing conversation or not.

“Akko?” Andrew’s voice came from behind the door. Finally! A distraction! Wait, wasn’t Akko avoiding Andrew lately? Why was she avoiding him lately? “Akko?”

“Come in!”

“...huh? You’re actually letting me in?” The muffled voice asked, door now ajar. “Hey Akko, so... about what I’ve been telling you all week...” He began, looking nervous, and Akko had to wonder why. “So my friend, Diana, she-”

Ah. Right.

That’s why.

Quick on her feet, Akko gunned for the door, pushing it forcefully, and locking Andrew out, the boy’s yells the only things making it through the barrier.

“Akko! Akko! OH, COME ON! We’ve been at this the whole week!”

“And I told you this whole week, I don’t wanna hear it!!!” Akko hollered back.

“But WHY?!” Andrew’s exasperation oozed out of his voice. “Just give me a reason! Give her a reason! From what I’ve heard, you seemed to have hit it off pretty well?”

“Says who?” Akko asked.

“Diana!” Andrew didn’t like yelling, but Akko was being so hard-headed after he mentioned his blonde acquaintance. “Just what happened between you two?”

“Nothing! Nothing happened!!!”

“Then why does she keep bugging me about you, and why are you avoiding her like the plague?!”

...Why was Akko avoiding Diana? Was there any reason to? They’d met just the other day, had the most awkward conversation in her life to date, and then Akko felt something. Something she shouldn’t have, and let her hopes up, only to drop them lower than where they already were; and none of that was Diana’s fault. If anything, Diana could have proven to be another great friend she’d make along the way in life, y’know?

Akko didn’t know. She didn’t know what was going on; within herself, within her mind and her heart, in that one moment frozen in time between her and Diana, in a silent hospital room.

“I don’t know, Andrew. I don’t.”

Sucy’s potion stopped brewing.

//-//-//-//-//

“MY MADLADS! I MISSED YOU UGLY FACES!”

“Ugh, Amanda.”

“Oi!”

Akko grinned, messing up Amanda’s fiery mane in comfort from being rejected by Sucy. “Missed you too, Amanda.” A high-five rang out through the school lobby, the two energetic troublemakers missing that burning feeling on their palms.

“But man, you guys sure missed a lot. Who knew a week without y’all could turn the school upside-down.” Amanda whistled, their small group of eight finally assembling complete as Jasminka and Constanze walked up.

The small girl gave Akko this look that she completely understood, giving the girl a big thumbs up, and receiving a smile and nod. Jasna held out a lollipop which Akko gratefully accepted, and they all made their way to the corridors.

Suddenly registering what Amanda said a few moments ago, Akko’s interest was piqued. “What did you mean by turning the school upside-down?” She wondered just how much a school could change for her who was out for a week.

“Oh, well, maybe I was exaggerating a tiny bit.” Amanda chuckled, scratching her cheek. “Just that, some new girl came along and now everyone is all head over heels for her somehow.” Amanda fake-cried, sniffling up some. “She even stole my babes! Along with all my popularity!!!”

That earned her two smacks to the head from two certain British girls. “We already told you, she was our childhood friend! Of course we’re inclined to keep her company and show her around!” They defended, scoffing. “Besides, you didn’t mind ogling her at all the other day, huh? You should feel grateful we let you in our dorm the other day.”

“B-babies...”

“Oof. You brought that on yourself, hot stuff.” Sucy grinned, wickedly. “But now I’m curious. If she could even catch Amanda’s eyes then...”

“Total hottie.” Jasminka commented through a mouthful of chips. “Everyone can vouch for that.”

“Woah, even Jas...” Akko laughed lightly. “Alrighty, let’s meet this new kid in town then! Where is she and what’s her name?” Just as they were about to pass the headmistress’ office and head for their homeroom, a hand tugged at the brunette’s collar, along with Sucy’s.

“Wait a second, you two. You’re supposed to report to Professor Holbrooke first, right?” Lotte, ever the dutiful friend, reminded.

“Ah dang, right.” Akko scratched her cheek, throwing Sucy a beckoning glance. “Guess it’s better to just get it over with.” She shrugged.

“Whatever.”

“See you all in class!” Akko waved goodbye, smiling as Lotte left a peck on her pale friend’s cheek, enjoying her rarely flustered state. Her heart warmed when Lotte gave her one two, patting the blonde’s hair fondly. “Thanks, Lotte.”

“Anytime.”

With their friends out of sight, they faced the suddenly intimidating doors.

“Now or never.”

//-//-//-//-//

“I’m glad we got excuse slips for being tardy to class. I do not want more yelling. Though I guess Prof Chariot wouldn’t do that, huh.”

“What did you say? I think I’ve gone deaf.” Sucy complained, rubbing her pained ears. “Finneran yaps like a bitch.”

“OI! Don’t let her hear you say that!”

“Don’t worry, I’m not up for more ‘counseling and healthy reminders’.” Sucy mockingly mimicked the strict teacher. “Christ, that woman must be senile.”

“Shhh, we’re almost at the classroom.” Akko hushed her bestfriend, door coming into view. She could hear a Professor Chariots distinct voice posing a question to the class, and there was a quiet that Akko knew was due to no one knowing the answer, not very uncommon.

But then there was one. A voice very uncommon, but somehow familiar, attracting, pulling her in. With her curiosity getting the better of her, Akko slid the door open, planning to softly sneak into class, forgetting that the room’s backdoor had a tendency to-

SCRREEEEECCHHHH

...that.

“H-hi? S-sorry we’re late?” Akko tried, dozens of eyes now resting on them, most surprised. But one pair stood out the most. ‘She looks good in our uniform.’ Akko’s jaw hung slack, a fight or flight response hesitantly building up within her. Her legs tensed, ready to bolt or stay rooted depending on the next move the one she was staring at made. “...Rigel...”

“...Akko.”

Then a hand reached out, and she was gone. Like the wind.

//-//-//-//-//

It had been a difficult week. Amanda was definitely right when she said things had been turned upside-down. Akko felt like she was too. So Hannah and Barbara’s childhood, hottie, transfer student, best friend just so happened to be Diana. Diana, Akko met her in the hospital and became enraptured with, Diana.

This posed a problem, along with unbearable tension within their group. Akko would always want to run away, and Diana would always seek after her. After awhile, the blonde grew weary, and just distanced herself, her childhood bestfriends obviously sticking by her side. Amanda had girlfriends to attend to. And Constanze and Jas usually followed Amanda. So now, it was just Sucy, Lotte, and little ol’ Akko. Like old times.

“Akko, just why are you avoiding Miss Cavendish? How do you know her?” Lotte asked on their way home. “Please? Tell us? I can’t stand to not spend time with the other girls anymore just because you two are at unknown odds. You’re a kind person, Akko. And Miss Cavendish is as well, from how I’ve gotten to know her lately.”

“Lotte, you... you wouldn’t get it.” Akko sighed. She was tired of entertaining Diana-related questions. All the ‘why don’t you two get along’ interrogations wearing her down thin: with Andrew at home, and Hannah and Barbara indirectly hounding her in school at every chance they’d get, trying to fish out for an answer that Diana couldn’t give to them herself, apparently. Not that Akko blamed her. She must just be as confused as everyone else with regards to Akko’s averse reactions.

“M-maybe I could try?” Akko missed the shift in the Fin’s tone, irritation over the week threatening to make her lose self-control and lash out. But no, she couldn’t do that. Not too sweet Lotte. She still had her senses intact.

“No, I’m sure you wouldn’t.” She firmly stated through gritted teeth, not looking at Lotte as she replied, so unlike her.

“I-I-”

“Akko, Lotte just wants to understand you.” Sucy stepped in, feeling that change in the air that she didn’t quite fancy. “Why can’t you just tell us? I know I may not act like it a lot, but aren’t we your best friends?” Akko held back a hiss behind pearly whites. She didn’t want to be a bad person. She had to be considerate of people’s feelings. Like always. Everyone was just curious. They were all just confused... but then Sucy had to just say, “Don’t you trust us?”

And Akko couldn’t hear that.

“I trust you! I do!” She whipped her head about, pointing a finger to them one-by one. “But you guys, you wouldn’t get it because you have your soulmate by your side constantly, okay?!”

“Akko...” Lotte’s eyes widened.

“I... I’ve been waiting a lot, and I know you said I’m being impatient. It doesn’t have to be now.” Akko huffed. “But do you know how it feels to look at all of you, all happy with someone who can love you completely? Understand you completely? I don’t have that! Not yet! And sure, somewhere down the future road, I might.... and it’s stupid of me, but I’m a lot more jealous and selfish than I look, okay? Everyone has nice words, and has met the person those words described perfectly, at the designated time, normally, as the book says.”

“Akko, the book doesn’t completely control everything-”

“And here I am, always subconsciously looking around, because maybe my person is out there too, y’know? But how the heck do I know?” A hand reached for the chain on her neck, ripping it out of her shirt so hard, it broke, the ring flying onto the ground. “Stupid! Stupid chain! Stupid Ring! Stupid words! Akko marched the few steps to the item, bending and snatching it off the ground, hand going in too hard, too fast that she scraped her knuckles badly in the process, the area quickly leaking red. “Sh- damn it, stupid- gaahhh!”

“A-Akko.”

Lotte stepped back, retracting the hand that had been reaching out for the heated Japanese girl, stomping at the ground. This... wasn’t an Akko she knew. How many years of pent up frustration was going into this session?

“You guys,” Her eyes were scary, sharp and menacing. Sucy jumped in front of Lotte at the sight of Akko’s bloodied knuckles coming their way at eye-level. But then it stopped. “You haven’t seen it, right? My words.”

They couldn’t even react.

“Cabbage.” Akko spat. “Goddamn cabbage. How am I supposed to know what that fucking means. How are you guys supposed to understand when... I can’t either... these words... myself... why I’m so impatient... what I’m feeling... Why... I thought it could’ve been Diana, but...”

“...but what, Akko?” Lotte hated how scared she sounded, seeing Akko flinch, knowing her friend noticed her fear. She knew how afraid of hurting her friends Akko was. This was all just a shock. That’s all. “What’s... what’s with Diana, Akko? Diana and you?” She posed the earlier question for the last time. Was Akko hinting at what she thought it was?

“She wears it on her left.”

//-//-//-//-//

Orange juice didn’t taste as good when you drank it alone on the stairwell leading to the roof. It would have been better had she been able to stand under the cloudy mid-day sun, the refreshing breeze taking her mind off things. But then it just had to rain, hard, and that ruined all her plans of clearing her mind via the healing powers of nature. Maybe she shouldn’t have told Sucy and Lotte to stay away and give her space. Having no one to talk to really sucked. More so than the strange word on her stupid government-issued ring.

“Ahhh, should I just go and apologize to everyone?” She muttered, squeezing the juicebox she thought she’d emptied, but did not know had bits of liquid left. The purely concentrated citrus then spilled onto her exposed, skinned knuckles, making her hiss in pain. “Tsk, stupid. Grrr!”

“Ah-!”

“Ah?” The yelp caught her attention. She was alone in this place, right? “Hello?”

No response.

“Anyone there?” The only ones replying to her were the winds that howled behind the metal door that led to open roof. Those sounds were starting to sound like how she’d imagined ghosts would in the dead of night. “Helloooo~”

Still nothing.

“Maybe it was just my imagination?”

“STAY AWAY!”

Okay, that was NOT her imagination. That was a girl. Looking around for some kind of weapon, Akko readied herself to beat up whatever girl-harassing creep she’d find once she rounded the bend in the stairwell. Holding up a sturdy wooden broom, she tiptoed down, steps making no sound.

On three, she’d jump and smack the living shit out of whoever was there. One... two...

“Akko, please save me!”

And she slipped and fell in her surprise; her back was going to hurt like hell over the next few days. Alas! She must stay vigil! Save whoever this damsel in distress was- Diana... It was Diana. Diana Cavendish, as she’d learned the girl’s name, and a few other trivial details about her, over the course of their time not together. (Akko also denies any and all claims that state that she spent a lofty amount of time observing the taller girl. She didn’t know things like how she was Scottish, or how she loved horses and anything that looked like a unicorn, and that she was intelligent, and smelled like vanilla and mint.)

“I’ll save you?” She managed in her ruffled state. Before she could process anything more, the girl had clung to her, both now laying on the floor; one in an utter state of bewilderment, and the other... dealing with whatever it was she got going on before Akko had found her. “Umm... Diana?” She tried, forgetting her phobia of the girl over the past few days, and rubbing her back gently to gain her attention. She was shaking like the leaves outside in the storm. Just what had happened. “Diana? What’s wrong? What am I saving you from?”

There were no signs of any bad guys, as far as Akko could see. She was grateful for that. She wasn’t sure she could defend them in this position.

“Miss Cavendish? Heir to a billion-dollar hospital? What’s up?” She was trying to be nonchalant in an attempt to possibly calm the girl, and it worked somewhat, allowing her to see that beautiful face, tear-stained and all. “H-Hi.” How lame.

“Akko... the... there... it...”

“Hmm?” She lent an open ear, looking around, still not seeing any signs of danger. Then a well-manicured finger came up and pointed to one of the panels of the hallway’s windows. Akko squinted, not seeing anything. Had Diana seen some kind of floating ghost outside? Or was she seeing it inside, and Akko didn’t have the sixth sense for it? Did Diana have some kind of sixth sense? “What exactly...”

“B...”

“Buh..?”

“Bee.” She squeaked.

Akko gawked.

“Bee.”

“B-bee.”

“Bee?”

“Bee!”

“B-”

“Akko, please just get it away! I’m scared!”

“Y-yes, ma’am!” She scrambled to her feet, but not without gently seating Diana up, even if it was on the dirty corridor floor. Opening the window and grimacing as strong winds blew droplets of water into her face, Akko shooed the poor insect into nature’s claws of death. “Sorry, buddy. Princess doesn’t seem to like you.” Blowing it a kiss, she shut the window, wiping her face on the sleeve of her jacket.

Now... to face a larger problem... or not face it. Maybe Akko should get running again.

She should.

“Well, this was nice and all that, but I guess I should get- ouch!” Diana had caught her hand in alarm, accidentally pressing against her open, yet-to-heal wounds.

“M-my apologies!”

“It’s f-fine. It’s okay, please let... let go.” Akko didn’t like the way her heartrate spiked in Diana’s presence. It grew even more erratic, wildly jumping every which way in her chest as her hand was held more gently, blue eyes scrutinizing the reddened skin, the heiress didn’t seem to have any plans of releasing her. “Diana?”

“May I... May I treat you? That blue sparkle was redirected from her knuckles to her own dark reds. They were so hopeful and compelling that Akko, despite thinking that avoiding Diana would kill whatever held-back, buds of feelings she hoped to dash, just couldn’t help but consent, cursing the way her chest lightened, heart soaring.

She was absolutely doomed.

//-//-//-//-//

It was a quiet affair.

Torturous. No one said a word. To be fair, they’ve only had two somewhat proper conversations so far, so not knowing how to break the ice shouldn’t be that odd.

But it was, and Akko couldn’t take it. Diana had just finished cleaning Akko’s wounds under the sink in the infirmary, and was now dabbing them gently with antiseptic. She was so careful, touches feather-like soft. Akko barely felt anything, much less pain. So maybe she could start with talking about that. Maybe.

“You... You’re hands are real nice.”

“H-huh?”And down fell the cottonball she’d been holding.

“I-I mean... you’re really good at this. Tender and all that. You’d... make a good doctor.” Akko commented off the top of her head, running out of things to say, as she always did when faced with one Diana Cavendish. “A pretty doctor. Patients would... probably feel healed just from your... face. Or something.” Smooth, Akko. Smooth. Could Diana, like... at least help her out a little by responding? “Please say something.” Akko begged in a whisper.

“O-oh, I... thank you, Akko. Thank you for the compliment. I...” Momentarily lifting her eyes and meeting Akko’s gaze, the blonde averted hers, a thin touch of red spreading up to her ears, not unnoticed by the injured Japanese. “I appreciate your words.”

Akko hummed, not trusting her mouth to communicate properly anymore.

“I think you’re... face is a healing balm as well.”

Akko felt herself blush as well, head tilting up so she could face the ceiling. It was one of the most brainless compliments she’d ever heard in her life, and she knew she just said something along those lines as well. And yet it made her heart flutter like nothing else had before.

“Don’t mention it and... thanks.”

//-//-//-//-//

You never know when an event becomes a catalyst for reality to undergo great changes. Their little bandaging session had returned the next day. Akko was quite clumsy with these types of things. Each time she’d gotten hurt in an accident, she’d always ask Lotte to do it... but today... all their friends, and even the classmates they’d unintentionally dragged into their awkward little world, were staring in awe as Kagari Atsuko stood in front of Diana Cavendish’s desk, inviting her out to the infirmary.

“I-I’m just having her help me with my bandages! Don’t get the wrong idea!” Akko yelled as she guided Diana out, unknowingly holding her hand all the while. No one commented on it. Not even Barbara and Lotte who were exchanging curious little smiles. Something was changing. And it was a good change.

Reaching the infirmary, Akko headed straight for the sink, rinsing her knuckles under clean water while Diana gathered what she needed. Once done, they met by some chairs placed about the room and took a seat, the blonde girl looking over Akko’s hand.

“Come tomorrow, you might not need to bandage it anymore. Just apply some ointment. I think the nurse can recommend something.” Diana stated, looking up to smile at Akko who flushed at the attention.

“O-okay. I got it.”

“Great.” She then got to work, applying what needed to applied, and wrapping the clean white bandage after. Diana did this in her usual silence, focused. Sort of. There was one thing that had been nagging her for quite some time now, ever since she got to take a better look at Akko, now that they attended the same school. It was a  unnerving, however. It hadn’t been long at all since they... ‘got along’, and Diana didn’t want to present something that might cause them to drift apart again. But it was eating at her, the need to know about it. It would determine how she’d interact with Akko from now on. It would show her what kind of relationship she was allowed to pursue. She needed a confirmation. She braced herself. Trying shouldn’t hurt. She could change the subject after testing the waters.

“Akko.”

“Hmm?” Was the casual-sounding hum.

‘She’s calm. Calmer around me.’ That little detail made Diana happy. So happy. This was progress. “May I ask a question?”

There was a pause, and Diana considered backing out. It appeared as though Akko was thinking about it deeply. Before Diana could take it back, Akko responded, “Sure. Ask away.”, and the heiress breathed a relieved sigh. “What did you wanna know?”

“Well, um... I just happened to notice that... you don’t...” Diana was really hoping this wasn’t a sensitive subject. She’d finally managed to close the gap between her and Akko. Sure it was by unconventional, and very strange means- unintentional, above all. She had just been worried about the girl upon seeing that her friend group was all gathered in the classroom except her. So Diana had gone searching, and was planning to offer to stay away from her friends for Akko’s sake. She was glad that things turned out the way it did, though.

“Diana?”

“Um... Akko.” She finished her job, smiling at the neat covering on her.. friend’s... hand. (They were friends now, right? At the very least...)

“Yes?” Akko seemed to notice the hesitation, and her instincts guided her to take hold of Diana’s trembling hands, encouraging her to continue.

Well this was new, Diana thought. Now or never, she supposes. A deep breath, and the floodgates opened.

“I just wondered... why... don’t you have a ring? Did you somehow lose it? Is that possible? But how? Wouldn’t you get in trouble with... everyone, I guess? Have you found your soulmate or not? If yes then I should probably just say goodbye here and, oh but not in the way you think, you might not get what I mean, but I still want to be friends-”

“Diana.”

“Yes?”

Akko’s cheeks puffed up, trying to hold it in, but ultimately failing as she burst into giggles, instinctively tucking a stray strand of hair behind Diana’s ear as she leaned forward to bump their foreheads together.

Ah, screw fate and it’s ways. Screw Diana’s soulmate that existed somewhere out there. In this one moment, she just felt so at peace, and in place, she’d deal with all the raging storms in her mind later. For now, it was just the two of them, hanging out in an infirmary, the smell of antiseptic on them, stupid words be damned.

“You’re rambling.”

//-//-//-//-//

It had been a few weeks- maybe just shy of two months- of friendship (?) with Diana, and Akko had never felt more alive in all her years. They had even spent her birthday together! Well, everyone else was there to, but... Anyway. The afternoon the question had been dropped, she had ended up explaining to the Scot her story with the ring, leaving out the detail of what it had written on it. That was a little too embarrassing for her to share yet. Baby steps.

She’d never dare ask about Diana’s ring, and she appreciated that the girl never brought up any soulmate talk that involved herself. Akko felt that it helped her cope with this one-sided love a little longer. She would no longer deny this attraction. She was so undeniably into Diana, it was crazy. She didn’t understand how teenage hormones and falling in love worked, but somehow she just knew. She felt a little apologetic to her soulmate, no longer feeling the need to search for him and her, the section of, [What to do if you haven’t found your soulmate yet.] remaining untouched. But well... things happen sometimes.

And sometimes, you become so much of a fool that you invite the girl you are in love with, who already has a soulmate, to your house, to your room, just so she can be the first to see that portable planetarium projector you were finally able to get your hands on for an affordable deal. You wouldn’t even cry at losing months worth of saved allowance and work wages. It was all worth it, to see her entire being practically glowing in awestruck wonder as you lay on your backs on the cushioned floor, having the chance to flaunt years of star study to your crush. The impressed gazed directed at you felt so good. You could get used to this. Especially when the visage of wonder glimmering in the dear girl’s eyes was outright precious.

A Diana in awe was cute.

So much so that Akko was in awe.

“Hey Diana...”

“Hmm?”

“Do you believe in magic?”

What a strange thing to ask in that moment. That’s what Diana thought. Akko thought the same. Just what had gotten over her. Yet she still wondered, thoughts flying far off into space, just as they always did when she gazed upon the stars in the night sky- or her ceiling’s artificial one.

‘What are you saying, Akko?” Diana chuckled, right hand reaching out to grasp Akko’s, fingers lacing together. She felt her heart flip as it was squeezed tight, unaware of the inner turmoil Akko was enduring at the lack of presence of a ring on that hand. Their eyes remained trained to the glowing heavenly bodies above, stories of the past, of fate, and the like, written all over.

“Do you believe in other worlds, Diana?”

“Well, many studies propose that they indeed exist.” Diana responded.

“What about alternate universes? A completely different you out there, living a different life.”

Diana turned her head to face Akko, the brunette still facing upwards, eyes glistening with unshed tears, barely noticeable in the dim lighting; but Diana always noticed. Because it was Akko.

“Don’t you think that somewhere out there... there could be another version of us; maybe a clumsy me, and a fantastic you, saving the world with strange words not understood by the rest of the world?”

“Maybe...” Diana breathed out in a whisper, oxygen effectively stolen by the tear that slipped down shapely cheeks. The moment felt so fragile, she was afraid if she made a move, it would shatter into a million pieces, never to see the light of day.

And god forbid it happen. Diana wanted to boast this tender feeling out under the brightness of the sun, for the world to witness.

“Why do you ask?”

She listened in agony at the choked intake of air, followed by the frailest of whispers. “Because maybe... the impossible for the Kagari Atsuko here... is possible for the Akko there.”

The heiress pondered those phrases a moment. “...Impossible, like?” Diana replied in equally hushed tones, something hopeful in her pitch.

‘Like you being meant for me, and I for you.’

But Akko couldn’t just say that.

“As impossible as using magic here, maybe?” Akko laughed in a normal, in-house voice, volume not too loud, but no longer a whisper. She should just bury her illegal thoughts deep down.

“I guess so.” She deflated. What had she desired to hear anyway? “Magic does seem like an unattainable power, some unimaginable, impossible concept.” Maybe she should get ready to leave soon. There was something heavy weighing in the atmosphere and in her heart, and she did not wish for a memory as sweet as this to turn sour due to her mood.

“You think so?” Akko’s steadying voice kept her rooted in place. “What if it isn’t so impossible after all?”

“How so?”

“Well, don’t they say that when people put their minds to it, when they truly desire and wish for it with all their hearts... like how the song goes, y’know? ‘When you wish upon a star your dreams come true’, or something.”

“Like the law of attraction and manifestation?” Diana supplied. “If you think positive things, positive things will come to you. Your reality becomes better. Like that?”

“Hmmm...” Akko tapped against the back of Diana’s hand, still entwined with hers, with her index thoughtfully. “Yes, but no. Kinda, but not really...? I don’t know how to describe what I’m thinking at the moment based on existing principles. Not too good at remembering. Heck, is there a quote that already exists?”

“Why not make your own, then?” Diana proposed.

“Heh... good idea. Let me think.”

“Take your time.” Diana enjoyed the little sounds Akko made as she thought.

“Oh! I got it!”

“Hoh? And what would those words of wisdom be, Miss Kagari?”

“Ready the papers, Miss Cavendish. We’re about to make the headlines with this!” They both giggled at their antics. “Drum roll, please! Dugudugudugudugudugu....dan!”

Diana nuzzled into Akko’s shoulder, enjoying all these little sound effects, the brunette’s voice calming her gradually, lulling her to sleep.

“Just what are these magnificent words, dear Akko?” Diana was far too drowsy to notice the splash of color painted across her companions face, the shyness melting into tenderness as she felt her warmth shift closer.

“A believing heart is your magic.”

And sleep was nearly robbed of her, eyes widening in the dark, unseen by Akko as the thumb on Diana’s free hand now brushed over the engravings on her ring. It was for sure now.

“You really are... the one.”

//-//-//-//-//

Something was off about Diana today. Was it her hair? No, impeccably styled as always, that couldn’t be it. Was it her makeup for today? No, it wasn’t that either. It was still that natural looking glow that brought out her innate beauty in all the best ways possible.  Akko continued to check off boxes on her mental list, trying to figure out just what it was that was bothering her about Diana’s appearance today. Was it her clothes? But that was the uniform they wore daily! Did she... get any new jewelry? Hmm, she didn’t seem the type to wear any at school.

Then...

Was it the ring that painfully reminded Akko that the person she might be in love with was already meant for someone else? No, that couldn’t be it either. Last Akko checked, the ring was snugly fitted, definitely on... huh? The ring was... gone? No? Akko scanned Diana’s smooth looking left hand. No it wasn’t there. Not on the left, and her eyes couldn’t help but guide her hopeful soul to... ah. It really wasn’t on the left, but on the right.

Huh? That wasn’t right.

This confused Akko. Enough to make her approach Diana’s seat during lunch, tapping her attention away from her conversation with Lotte and Barbara.

“H-hey Diana, I have a question... “

“Yes?” Said girl gave Akko her full attention. There was something different about the way she smiled at Akko today as well, it seemed. Odd. Nice. But odd.

“So like... uh... W-Why is your... your ri-” Akko could feel droplets of sweat forming on her brow, threatening to trickled down the side of her face if she so much as twitched.

“Ri?”

“Why’s your ri- r....r-r- Right ear larger than your left?!”

Dainty hands shot up to cover her ears, blushing shocked and mortified. “WHAT?!”

Whoops, Akko messed up. “HAHA AHA.. KIDDING! Nah, I was messing with you!” The brunette forcibly laughed, patting Diana’s back in uneasy comfort.

“Akko, that wasn’t very nice.” Lotte scolded, and the said girl nodded, sighing.

“I know. Sorry guys.” She apologized properly, looking to Diana in particular. She received a gracious smile and a pat on the cheek, the skin underneath the ringed-hand warming speedily.

“It’s alright.”

That kindness allowed her to gather bits of courage to finally state her inquiry. Diana would answer her just fine, right? Akko had to when asked about the whereabouts of her ring. It was fair trade?

“I was just wondering, because I recalled you wearing your ring on your left hand until recently. But now it’s on your right. I guess you could say I was just curious?”

“Eh?”

“Is that so, Diana?” Hannah questioned, eyes wide. “But why would you move it in reverse? Now that you’ve actually found- mrrrpmmphhh.”

Akko shot a puzzled glance at Hannah and Barbara, the latter clasping a hand over the ginger’s mouth.

“N-nothing. You didn’t hear anything.” She covered. “You heard nothing, are we clear?” She threatened, and Akko actually shivered.

“Holy crap, your women can get so scary, Amanda.” She mentioned to the redhead seated in front of the other girls.

She heard her release a heavy sigh before getting up from her seat and turning to face the group. “It’s because you two are such a pain, that’s why. Just get it over with, Cavendish! What’s holding you back? It’s as simple as this, see? When you have a dense mofo like Akko, you just gotta give her a little push. A literal one.” And that was the only warning they got before Diana felt soft, slightly chapped lips barely missing her own, brushing against the corner of her mouth.

Akko removed herself so fast, they all worried she’d get whiplash. “S-s-s-s-s-sorry! Sorry Diana, I didn’t- it was... AMANDA!”

“I was helping.”

“You little...”

“Rather than giving me your attention, shouldn’t you talk it over with miss salad head over there?”

Akko blinked, the cogs in her mind slowly spinning, then clicked. “Did you just... insult... ah, screw you!” Akko yelled, blush burning so hot, it was hard to keep her eyes open.

Heeding Amanda’s advice nonetheless, she turned to an equally red Diana, unable to meet her eyes. Akko didn’t think her face could get any hotter than it felt right now, but at the sight of Diana’s tongue quickly swiping across her lips, Akko’s face might as well be venus.

She should at least try to say something, right? Something comforting... or witty... or clever.

“Sorry...” That would work.

“It’s alright.”

//-//-//-//-//

She stared at her invitation. Wow. Did Andrew really take her to shop for Denise’s birthday gift months before it happened? The neat script spelling out, ‘You are cordially invited’ underneath the older woman’s name with the date of the ball kind of set her nerves on fire.

She was not one for formal events. But then Denise had been nice enough to hand it in person, looking like she’d be willing to beg for Akko to come. Andrew stood behind her menacingly, a pressuring force looming in the room.

But really, how was she supposed to do this? Sure she had experience with the arts and dancing. She had wanted to be a performer at some point in her life before deciding on her current course, keeping the arts as a hobby. That covered her bases in terms of the ballroom dancing part. But as for etiquette and all that jazz, Akko had no clue. She was just a normal girl, living a normal life, having met amazing people, and... the love of her life.

She groaned in remembrance, pulling out a slip of paper, an extra entrance voucher. ‘Bring a plus one’, Denise had said. Well... that wouldn’t be a problem, Akko supposed. Maybe... She could always ask Diana.

The thought of the girl set flurries of butterflies wild in her stomach, face warming up along with her heart. She fiddled with the band situated around her left ring finger. She was still getting used to it, the metal feeling awkward in that spot. That’s just what she gets for never wearing it all these years. Kind of a nuisance, if she were being honest; but... at the same time... it was a reminder that...

[“So you’re... my soulmate...”

“Looks like it.”

“Did you... know about it?” She watched fluffy hair bounce along with the bobbing of a shy girl’s head. “How long...?”

“I had a feeling right from when we met... then confirmed it after you first showed me your planetarium.”

“...that’s a few weeks back.”

“You’re just so slow.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. It really is now.”]

“AAAAHHHH!!” Akko hollered, ridding herself of the embarrassed tension in her body. “Hnnnggghhh...” Holding in all her squeals, she flew onto her bed, hugging a pillow tight and rolling about. Maybe she should call Diana right now, if only to hear her voice. Oh, and she should just pop the question while she’s at it, the invitation.

A few rings, one, two, three fo-

[“Hello?”]

“Did you know I love your voice? It was the first thing I fell in love with, ever since you saved me from the clutches of death.” She couldn’t hold back the adoration she felt for the Englishwoman any longer.

[“Oh my god, Akko. Did you really just call me so you could be such a sap?”]  Her giggle was always the best, Akko reveled.

“No~, or kind of yes, but not entirely.”

[“Is that so?”] Diana teased through the line.

“Don’t believe me?”

[“Of course I do! After all... it’s my magic.”]

“Who’s the sap now.”

[“I learned only from the best.”]

“Amanda?”

[“YOU, you idiot!”] Akko laughed at the reaction, squealing inwardly in delight. Diana’s laughter alongside hers died down, the phone going silent for a bit. And then, [“You’re the best.”].

Akko just couldn’t handle it.

“I love you.”

[“I love you too, sweetheart.”]

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

[“I love you more.”]

“I love you! I love you! I love you!”

[“I love you more than anything in this world.”]

Akko was not crying.

“I love you... be my plus one?”

[“...”]

[“Always.”]

//-//-//-//-//

“My baby... so grown up now and looking all gorgeous.” Mrs. Kagari wiped a tear from her eye, admiring her daughter in a russet-toned gown, sleeveless, with a low dip in the back, fitting, and at the same time, flowing off her frame and onto the floor. It was simple, yet elegant. It matched well with Akko’s hair; usual bangs side-swept, signature ponytail gone, her long brown hair slightly curled and hanging off on one shoulder, exposing the other. All this topped with a little make-up, and even Andrew commended this picture of Akko that could pass as part of high society.

“Shall we?” He held out an arm for her to take, door open with a car waiting right outside. Akko’s father sobbed loudly, holding onto his wife for dear life.

“M-Mama! MY BABY! MY BABY IS BEING TAKEN AWAY BY SOME RICH YOUNG BRAT WHO JUST LOOKS GOOD, AND IS A LITTLE SMART, AND OWNS A HOSPITAL.”

“Well, don’t those sound like amazing specs.” Akko’s mama laughed, consoling the poor man. “You sound like a father sending his daughter off to meet her groom.”

“I AM.”

“But Diana-chan is so cute, though?”

“Man or woman, whoever takes my baby away from me and ends up hurting her... they will never see the light of the afterlife.”

Diana felt a chill run up her spine as she waited in the car.

“Oh, hush you. You’re overreacting.”

“AM I?!”

“Byebye, papa. I’ll be home soon. Love you~ Love you more, Mama!”

“Ah- bye, my darling daughter, my baby, my sun, light of my world, my angel!”

“You can stop embarrassing her now, darling.”

//-//-//-//-//

“Akko, don’t be so stiff.” Diana whispered into the girl’s ear, a hand caressing the small of her back to ease away the nerves. “You’ll be fine. Just think of it as any old party.”

“E-e-e-easy for you t-to say. You g-grew up with th-this.” Akko retorted, a hand with some champagne shakily approaching her lips.

“Really, you’re too high-strung.” The blonde sighed, pointing to Akko’s best friends. “Look at Lotte and Sucy, they look normal.”

Akko glared at her best friends who seemed to be enjoying themselves without a worry in the world. Oh, golly, what a treat. Maybe she shouldn’t have offered their extra tickets to them so she wouldn’t feel as bitter.

“Hey.” A flick was sent to her forehead. “No mean thoughts.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Di.A. NAAAA~” Here came a wild Denise, flying through the air to hug an alarmed Diana, barely catching her. It would appear as thought they were good friends, and Denise, not knowing anything about the relationship between her two dear bosom buddies, had sent them each an invitation with the hopes of bringing a plus one to introduce to her (so she could tease them about it), all the while, being kept in the dark that their plus one just so happened to be each other.

Which also explained the extra tickets that had gone to Lotte and Sucy. Akko was afraid it would be rude to just hand them away, but Diana reassured her it would be just fine. They both knew how kind-hearted and open-minded Denise was anyway.

“M-miss Walsh... please let me breathe.”

“Diana~ It’s Denise!”

“D-Denise... please... my airways...”

With greetings out of the way (Akko being squeezed to death as well, to be fair), the announcement were made, and the party commenced, music playing as the floor opened for the dances.

...

Akko swore she was a good dancer. Really! She was the ace of their studio. She could dance almost anything after learning it over the course of a few weeks at most, and so few days at the very least. So she couldn’t understand just how she’d suddenly acquired two left feet, constantly, and clumsily stepping on poor Diana’s feet.

One step. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

Another miss. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“S-sorry!”

“...”

“Oh my gosh, I really am sorry!”

“I-it’s quite alright...”

“...”

“Wanna get some fresh air?”

“Pleasured.”

//-//-//-//-//

The Walsh’s family gardens were certainly award winning, Akko admired. As someone with a hobby in that field, this was a dream come true, to see such stellar workmanship. With flowers o’er the earth, and stars up above, the moon reflecting ripples into a still, small lake just a few yards down, it was the picture of beauty.

Yet nothing could compare to Diana by her side. Akko admired the way the woman’s gown clung to her curves in all the right places, how midnight blue reminded her of the skies they were under, and the dear stars in the heiress eyes sparkled ever brighter. How the earrings that dangled sparkling silver matched Akko’s own, only in gold, how her hair was fixed to the side as well, a portion of her bangs tucked neatly behind her ear, held back by a pin Akko had gotten her recently.

Akko was transfixed, as though she were under a witch’s spell. A very gorgeous, kind-hearted, hardworking, and sincere witch. A woman she loved with every fiber of her being, with the entirety of her heart.

She watched the moonlight caress ivory skin, glistening under its kind rays. Akko wanted to do so as well. Touch it, and know she was real and not just a figment of her imagination.

“I love you.” She murmured, reaching forward, arms wrapped around a slim waist, lips pressing against a bare shoulder. “I love you.”

Diana hummed, hands resting over Akko���s latched on to her abdomen. “Dance with me, Love.” She beckoned, leading them to sway under the night sky, the crickets and the breeze playing them a song of romance solely for their rapture.

The moon as their only witness, they vowed silent words, moving along the area, spinning, swaying, dancing, laughing, smiling, crying.

Akko never felt as lucky as she did in this moment. She was beyond fortunate. This moment she’d never forget, a memory never to be destroyed all her life, reminding her that she was blessed.

Blessed, and still a little foolish.

“I still don’t get it, you know. Why ‘cabbage’?”

Diana laughed into the tranquil night. Slapping Akko’s bare arm in fondness. “Did you really just ask that? Now of all times? With a romantic mood set up like this?” She shook her head in disbelief. “You are amazing, Kagari Atsuko. I love you to death, really I do... but are you seriously still hung over that?” She inquired, spinning her fated partner about, bringing her back in close. “Does it have to make sense? Isn’t it enough to know that you’re meant to be mine, and I’m forever yours?”

Akko returned that tender smile, leaning up to place a kiss against Diana’s throat. “Well, yeah, I guess; but... like... doesn’t that defeat the rings’ purpose, then?”

“Does it matter?”

“...It doesn’t. Not anymore. Not when you’re by my side, because that’s all that matters.”

“Great answer.”

“Diana?”

“Hmmm? What is it now?” Diana asked, amused that the peaceful mood didn’t look like it would settle back down anytime soon.

“For ruining the moment.... sorry.” All Akko’s laughing refuted that statement. Diana knew they both didn’t regret it one bit. Not at all. So with a smile only meant for her world nestled in her arms, leaning down and closing the gap bit-by-bit, what else could Diana reply with except,

“...It’s alright.”

And they saw stars.

//-//-//-//-//

This... was an unexpected development.

“...Wanna come over?”

“I’d love to.”

Cold, soaked and dropped off by the Cavendish’s service car, they made their way up the drive way, Akko fumbling for her house keys in the wee hours of the morning.

“Sorry, I really didn’t expect it to rain when I invited you out.”

“It’s fine, it wasn’t something within our control at all. The night looked perfectly clear, too.”

Flipping on the lights by the threshold, Akko guided Diana in, drenched shoes flying off, but immediately retrieved and set to the side to drip properly. They’d have to clean and dry those tomorrow better, but for now, a bath of warmth was in order.

Akko had insisted Diana take one first, but ever the gentlewoman, Diana did not move an inch until she was absolutely certain Akko would be alright. Her strongest argument stood to be, “Just who was it that I had to take to the hospital upon our first encounter.”, and Akko could only pout, begrudgingly accepting her defeat and warming herself a bath, but not without leaving Diana a towel and a temporary change of clothes so she wouldn’t get chills.

As Akko tagged Diana with a kiss to the lips, switching places after drawing the girl a fresh warm bath, she made her way to the kitchen, deciding to make them some vegetable soup to warm them up from the inside. Would Diana like that too?

Choosing and gathering her ingredients, she began prepping, chopping up everything as her water in the pot was brought to a boil.

It didn’t take her long at all to finish. By the time the food was ready, Diana was back downstairs, clad in one of Akko’s oversized shirts and pajama bottoms. It did strange things to Akko’s dear heart. On Diana’s part, just the sight of her future wife (she was a woman with a vision for tomorrow) preparing her a meal, fresh from a bath, in their own little world... How could she not fall deeper in love? So in love that she could just kiss her!

And she did just that.

Walking up to the shorter girl, Diana coaxed her into warm arms, a hand making its way into brunette strands, entangling them around her fingers, ring shining amidst them. This was bliss. This was everything to her.

This was everything to Akko. Everything she’d hoped for and wanted, and even more.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

Soft. A little salty, maybe the soup’s seasoning. Warm and gentle, yet pressured and emotional. Tenderly passionate, and passionately tender, their lips danced a song that they’d forever remember.

And as they sat down to eat, seated in front of each other, they motioned for cheers with their chopsticks, a leafy green clipped between one pair.

And that’s when Akko realized that it all made perfect sense.

The rings weren’t wrong, and the words would always be right.

“Ah...

Cabbage.”

~end.

A/N: Can you believe it? All that, just so I could say in the end, “Cabbage”. Honestly, Akko is so slow. Somehow I’m not quite satisfied with this, and maybe I should’ve gone with a different approach or piece, or simply edited my original plan to fit safely within the guidelines, but... Idk. Maybe I’m as much of a fool as Akko, that way. Was it worth the thousands of bothersome words to read? Haha. Feedback is appreciated, as always. Hope you enjoyed.

~Shintori Khazumi

[maybeimamuppet]

I see stars

hello friends, happy Wednesday! before we get into this I'd like to thank my irl friends Nerd and Kween (I asked them if they'd like to pick an alias, that's what they each chose) for giving me scene ideas and helping me to write this chapter!

tw for:

outing

and something that could be seen as a suicide attempt if you squint. its really not, but... it'll make sense once you get into it.

anyway, please enjoy!

-

At 11:11, Cady makes a wish on a star outside her window. She’s just moved across the world, to Illinois from Kenya. She’s never felt more alone in her life.

So, Cady wishes for a friend. Someone who will stick by her side through anything. Doesn’t matter who. She knows it’s a cliche to wish on a star, but she’s desperate. She’ll try anything.

She’s not expecting to be woken by a blinding bright light at exactly midnight. She blinks blearily as she wakes, looking into the backyard. There’s a girl about her age, bathed in the light.

Cady tugs on her hedgehog slippers and runs downstairs, able to approach the girl lying in her grass as the blinding light fades.

She doesn’t seem to be breathing, but she gasps sharply and her eyes shoot open just before Cady can touch her.

“No, no, no,” the girl says desperately.

“Um... are you okay?” Cady asks quietly, very confused by the last several minutes. The girl looks at her and screams, making Cady jump.

“You, who are you?” The girl demands, her blonde hair flowing behind her. Her eyes are glowing and her hair moves on its own. That’s not normal.

“Um... I’m Cady. Cady Heron,” Cady says confusedly.

“What the fuck have you done?!” The girl yells at her. “You made a wish, what did you wish for?”

Cady is almost crying in fear as this terrifying... person? yells at her. “Nothing, I just-I wanted a friend, I didn’t-I didn’t mean to do anything to you. Who are you?”

“I,” the girl says with a sigh. “Am the star you wished on. Or I used to be, anyway.”

“You what?! That can’t... you...” Cady splutters. “But you’re a girl.”

“To you. This is my... Earthly form, you could say,” the star replies. “You don’t believe me. Here, touch me.”

Cady tries to, pulling back with a yelp as her fingertip makes contact. She’s burning hot.

“Ow! You couldn’t prove it some other way?” Cady hisses, sucking on her burned finger. The star stands up, shaking off her white robes and combing her hands through her long blonde hair. Now that Cady looks closely, her hair is almost exactly the color of starlight. And there’s still a sort of glowing aura around her. “Can anyone else see you?”

“They can now, thanks to you,” the star spits. “That’s a point, actually, hold on.”

She waves her hands for a second, somehow removing the light emanating from her. Her eyes stop glowing and fade to a rather beautiful honey-brown, and her hair lays flat in waves down just past her shoulders. She brings her hands together to condense the light, and like a magician releasing a dove, reveals two gold bracelets that she slides onto her wrists.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t... I didn’t mean to bring you here,” Cady whispers. “Can I help you get back?”

The star sighs, seeming to calm herself. “You had no way of knowing this would happen. It hasn’t for thousands of your years. You don’t need to apologize.”

“What did happen?” Cady asks in confusion.

“You made a wish at a very poor time for me,” the girl replies, coming to sit by her on the grass. “But we don’t have time to get into it now.”

“Okay,” Cady says. She doesn’t think it’s okay, she has so many questions, but she doesn’t want to anger the girl again. “Um… what’s your name?”

“I don’t have one,” the girl shrugs. “I suppose you humans have technically named me at some point, but I wouldn’t know it.”

“Are you staying here?”

“It would seem so,” the girl hums. “For a while, anyway. I’ll have to go back soon.”

“Then you need a name,” Cady insists. She stands and reaches to help her up, but pulls back quickly. “Are you still, um…”

The star chuckles. “No. If I’m not glowing you don’t have to worry.”

“Ah,” Cady says as if she understands. She doesn’t, nothing about this evening makes sense. “Come on, it’s cold out here.”

“You trust strangers remarkably quickly,” the girl says as she takes her hand to be led up the stairs to Cady’s bedroom. “I could be some crazy human telling you a lie.”

“You could be, but you were glowing and burning hot when you got here, and you clearly can do some kind of… magic, or something, with your… essence. And you already knew I wished on a star,” Cady whispers. “Now shush, you’ll wake my parents up.”

“Parents?”

“Yeah. You know, like… the people who made me?” Cady says. “Do stars not have parents?”

“Not that I would ever know,” the star says. “We’re technically composed of pieces of others who’ve already died. What are parents like?”

Cady sits the girl on her bed and roots through her dresser for something less conspicuous for her to wear. “It depends. Some aren’t great. Mine are nice, they love me. They’re a little dorky, but they’re good people. You’ll like them.”

The star takes the offered sweats and looks at them curiously. “What do I do with these?”

“Wear them,” Cady giggles. “You’ll attract a lot of attention in that.”

The star looks down at her long, angelic robes, then back at what Cady has on. She seems to realize that, indeed, she sticks out like a sore thumb. Cady yelps and turns around when she starts tugging her robes off.

“What happened?” The girl asks in confusion.

“You can’t just get naked in front of people,” Cady huffs. “Privacy is important.”

“Oh. Privacy.” The star replies quietly. She tugs on the offered clothes and rests her robes next to her. “I’m done now.”

Cady turns back warily and chuckles when she sees her. “You put the shirt on backwards.”

“Backwards?”

“The wrong way. Come here,” Cady says. The star approaches warily, and Cady helps her turn the shirt around. “For future reference, on human clothes, there’s usually a tag. That goes in the back.”

“Human clothes are so strange,” the girl says thoughtfully, tugging curiously at her collar. She gestures to the pants. “What do you call these? The… leg tubes?”

“Pants?” Cady chuckles, guiding her back to the bed so they can have a chat. “How much do you know? About… me? Or just humanity?”

“Good question,” the star says. “For humanity as a whole, I know most of the common belief systems and usually how cultures function, basic things like that. In terms of specific things like… pants, you said?” Cady nods. “That’s not my area of expertise.”

Cady nods thoughtfully. “And me?”

“You, I only know what I’ve seen. I was assigned to you when you were born. I’ve been watching you, sort of. But I can’t see into your soul or anything, I don’t know your thoughts. I just know what would’ve been observable by anyone,” the girl shrugs.

“Assigned to me? Prove it. When’s my birthday?” Cady says slightly suspiciously, folding her arms over her chest.

“In human time, February eleventh, 2001,” the star says instantly.

“Human time…? No, never mind. Um… where is my biggest scar?” Cady asks. “And how did I get it?”

“Your… oh, what is it called… ah, your stomach. You were playing with a lion cub named Louise and got scratched. You were ten years old and required eight stitches,” the girl replies.

Cady goes quiet. Her scar isn’t visible unless she wears a crop top, and only someone who knew her as a child would know how she got it to that level of specificity. The star is telling the truth.

“Okay, I believe you,” Cady breathes. “This is… a lot for one night.”

“I wasn’t expecting to be here either, I certainly understand,” the girl chuckles sardonically.

“You still need a name,” Cady suddenly realizes. “I can’t keep calling you ‘the star’ or ‘the girl’ in my head.”

“Okay. If you say so,” the star shrugs. “You seem to have decent judgement, you can name me.”

Cady hums pensively, her eyes drifting over to the records her dad had given her to introduce her to American music. There’s a Janis Joplin record on top.

“What about Janis?” Cady asks. It suits the girl pretty well. “Like this.”

The star reads over the letters on the record sleeve and nods. “I like it.”

“Well then, Janis, we should sleep. Wait, do you even need to sleep?” Cady asks. This is all so complicated.

“I think so,” Janis says. “We’ll find out. I know I can sleep, however.”

Cady nods with a thoughtful hum before she gestures for Janis to lie on the far side of her bed. Cady inches in after her, but makes sure to leave a gap in between them. Janis wiggles comfortably under the blankets, delighted at feeling their soft texture for the first time.

“Goodnight, Janis,” Cady murmurs softly.

“Goodnight, Cady Heron,” Janis whispers back.

————-

Cady wakes with a start the next morning when she remembers there’s someone else in bed with her. Janis seems to be spooning her, which is actually kind of nice. Cady takes a moment to think about how to explain this to her parents. They’d never believe the truth, but she needs some story that will convince them to let Janis stay.

She rolls out of bed when she decides on something believable, and tucks Janis in a little tighter. Janis snuffles gently but doesn’t wake.

Cady pads down the stairs and finds her parents in the kitchen making breakfast.

“Morning, binti,” her dad says when he spots her in the hallway. Cady comes into the room staring at her feet.

“Don’t be mad,” she begins, already smacking herself mentally. That’s never a good way to start a conversation. “Um, one of my friends came over last night. She got… kicked out, she needs somewhere to stay. I don’t want her on the streets. Can she please stay here for a while?”

“Kicked out?” Her mom asks. “How do you know this girl?”

“She… she didn’t say why. I didn’t want to ask,” Cady lies quietly. She’s been close enough to the truth so far. “And, um… we met at… the observatory. The one I went to after school last week.”

“Of course she can stay. We have plenty of room, she can stay as long as she needs. Just teach her the rules and stuff,” Cady’s dad replies. Her mom looks at him unhappily, but does nod after a moment’s thought. Cady hugs them both in a mix of happiness and relief.

“Thank you. Her name is Janis, by the way,” Cady murmurs. “I’ll go let her know.”

Her parents nod and send her back up to her bedroom. Cady returns to find Janis awake and turning the lights on and off curiously.

“Hey,” she says softly. Janis jumps and whirls around to see her.

“Good morning,” Janis replies. Cady chuckles.

“What are you doing?”

“How does this turn on the light all the way over there?” Janis asks in wonder.

Cady shrugs. “Electricity, I dunno. I’m not used to it either. Um, my parents said you can stay here. I told them you got kicked out, but they think that means, like, your human parents kicked you out. But you can stay here as long as you need.”

“How lovely,” Janis says. Her stomach suddenly rumbles and she looks at it in confusion.

“You must be hungry. Come on, my parents have breakfast downstairs,” Cady giggles. “I think you’ll like waffles.”

—————-

Cady and Janis set up a routine that day. Cady teaches Janis about human life, and has an added bonus of getting help with her chores. In return, Cady gets a friend. And a cool friend, if she does say so herself.

Cady had bravely taken Janis out shopping, and the fallen star had immediately taken to fishnet tights and oversized jackets. The punk clothes suit her far more than Cady’s hand-me-downs.

Janis stays home when Cady goes to school for safety. Janis also got a phone so she can contact Cady in an emergency, so they have that. Janis knows all the rules and especially not to mess around in the kitchen. She spends most of her days learning about humanity through TV shows and other media. Janis isn’t too keen on what she finds, but Cady seems to be an outlier. She hopes more humans are like Cady.

-

One day, the two girls are washing the dishes after dinner. Janis washes and Cady dries. Cady suddenly fumbles drying a knife and nicks her finger.

Janis looks up in surprise when she yelps. “What happened?” Cady shows off her slightly bleeding finger. “Oh. You’re bleeding.”

“Just a little, it’s not a big deal. I’ll grab a bandaid, it’s fine,” Cady shrugs, already moving towards the first aid kit. Janis gently grabs her hands to stop her moving away.

“I can help,” she says quietly. “Please?” Cady nods gently. Janis holds the wounded finger gently between her hands and closes her eyes. Cady’s finger feels warmer, suddenly, and there’s an odd tingling sensation. “There.”

When Cady looks, the only hint of an injury is a small scar. “Wow.”

“The scar will fade slowly. I usually don’t leave them, but my abilities aren’t quite up to snuff on Earth,” Janis says shyly.

“No, it’s… wow,” Cady says again. “You’re incredible. Thank you.”

Janis flushes and looks down. “You’re welcome.”

In a momentary fit of boldness, Cady leans in and kisses Janis’ cheek. Janis squeaks in surprise and blushes harder.

“Let’s get back to it, star girl,” Cady chuckles, grabbing her towel again. Janis shuffles back over and grabs her sponge.

-

Cady starts noticing strange things after that day. She feels emotions that don’t totally fit her situation. She’s beginning to have memories of doing things she hasn’t done. She has knowledge of things she didn’t study.

The kicker comes one day in her French class. Cady notices she suddenly has much more energy. Her knee is bouncing uncontrollably and her mind is racing. She takes a second to check her phone when she feels it buzzing wildly in her pocket.

stargirl: CADDY WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME BOUT COFEEEe

stargirl: IS SO GOOD

stargirl: TASTE LIKE CHOCOLATE BUT NAKES MY BRAIN GO FSST I LOVE IT

stargirl: OPPS I SPELLED YOUR NAME WRONG BUT YOURE CADDY NOW

spacecadet:��Janis how much coffee have you had?

stargirl: EIGT

spacecadet: Good lord, Janis. Stop drinking it and wait until I get home, please

stargirl: WHYYYYY

spacecadet: Because it’s affecting me too, and I can’t have that right now. Go run around the backyard or something. Just stop the coffee

stargirl: :(

stargirl: ohhhhhh i see now that looks like a sad face

stargirl: clever humans. i was wondering why you use that when you’re unhappy

stargirl: ok bye

Cady clicks her phone off and tries to tune back into her class, wondering what the hell is happening. She and Janis appear to share some sort of link now, if the coffee is anything to go by.

Janis is definitely coming to school with her after this.

-

Janis seems much calmer when Cady gets home. The caffeine crash appears to have kicked in, because she’s huddled up on the couch and staring lethargically at the ceiling.

“Hey, Jay,” Cady says softly. Janis whines and turns to look at her. “You okay?”

“Caddy, the fast juice makes my head hurt,” Janis whines again. Cady grins sadly and heads to fetch her some ibuprofen and water.

“Here, this will help,” Cady says quietly. “The headache is a part of caffeine withdrawal. I see you had a fun day.”

“I deep cleaned the whole house in two hours and the neighbors let me play with their puppy,” Janis replies. Cady chuckles again.

“Well, my parents will love having the house this clean, so good job there. But we should talk,” she says softly. “I felt the caffeine too. Just a little bit. I felt a bit of the energy, and my leg started shaking. What does that mean?”

“I’m not totally sure myself, but this can happen sometimes,” Janis replies. “I forgot about it at the time, I just wanted to help. But sometimes when I do things like healing your cut, or things like that, a bit of me… gets into you, kind of. Forms a sort of link between us. We’ll share a bit of our stronger emotions or sensations, learn things the other knows, stuff like that.”

“So… you healing my cut gave us a psychic link?” Cady asks confusedly.

“Kind of,” Janis agrees. “I can help you learn how to turn it off, in a way, if it bothers you.”

Cady shakes her head. “I kind of like it. Except when you have eight cups of coffee while I’m trying to focus in class.”

“Cady, it’s so good,” Janis says dreamily. “It’s the most wonderful human creation.”

“Well, I’m glad you had a good day, but take it in moderation. No more than two cups from here on, okay?” Cady giggles. Janis nods with a pout. “And I think… I think you should start coming to school with me. It’s only November, you won’t have missed too much.”

“But won’t it… what’s the word… embarrass you? If I say something strange? I’m still not used to humanity,” Janis asks concernedly. Cady looks away briefly.

“There’s not much more damage you can do. Nobody talks to me anyway,” she whispers. “It’ll be nice to have a friend there.”

Janis doesn’t quite know what to do here; she’s still adjusting to human emotions. But a hug seems to fit, so she sits herself up and awkwardly wraps her arms around Cady. Cady leans in and tips her head against her shoulder.

“Then I’ll go,” Janis says softly. “I’m your friend.”

Cady nods. “Thanks, Jay.”

“Oh, um… can I do something, for my sake, if I’m going to school with you?” Janis asks. “It might give you a headache for a few minutes, but you should be fine.”

“Should be? Oh boy,” Cady says worriedly. Janis positions them so they’re facing each other and gets another confirmation from Cady. She nods, and Janis reaches out and touches the center of her forehead.

Cady feels like her brain is exploding. Her mind rushes with thoughts and it feels like they’re pouring out her ears. She’s about to cry out for Janis to make it stop, but Janis ends it just before she reaches her limit. Cady is left with a minor migraine, but shockingly, no other side effects.

“What the heck was that?” She asks desperately.

“I’m sorry,” Janis murmurs. “I just made copies of the knowledge you use for school and gave them to myself. You were basically feeling all your intelligence being doubled and then half removed. But the headache fades.”

Cady supposes Janis will need to be able to do classwork and things, she needs the information. Cady can forgive a temporary headache. “Your hair.”

“What?” Janis asks, furrowing her brows.

“Your hair is brown. Here,” Cady says, touching her own roots. Janis scrambles up and runs to the bathroom to look in the mirror. Cady follows in concern. It doesn’t look bad, it’s only about a centimeter, but Cady had assumed Janis would be a natural blonde. “Are you okay?”

Janis stares at her reflection for a long moment. “Hm? Oh, yeah. It’s fine, everything’s fine.”

Cady’s part of the link floods with alarm bells saying ‘Lie. Lying. Lie.’ She decides not to question it, Janis seems distressed enough. She’ll tell her when she’s ready.

“Okay then. Come on, let’s go get your school supplies,” Cady says, reaching to hold her hand. Janis follows her away clinging to her hand tightly.

————-

Janis starts school with Cady the next week. After a fair bit of pleading, the school agreed to give Janis the same schedule so they can stick together. People still look at them oddly, but one mildly threatening look from Janis sends them on their way.

They manage to skate by relatively unnoticed until lunch. Janis hasn’t said much of anything in fear of causing a scene.

“Don’t you want to eat with the other humans?” Janis asks once they have their lunches, confused as to why Cady isn’t heading back towards the cafeteria. They get a few odd looks at the use of the term ‘other humans’, but nobody seems to think twice about it. High school is weird enough already.

“I usually don’t. I’ve been eating in the bathroom,” Cady says shyly. “Or sometimes with Ms. Norbury. I don’t think anyone would let me sit with them.”

“Well, now there’s two of us. Maybe someone will,” Janis says optimistically. Cady shrugs and decides to give it a shot.

They’re both immediately overwhelmed by the amount of people present and look around in shock. Janis is about to rescind her statement and take them somewhere else when a high, falsely sweet voice rings out from the table in the center of the room.

“Wait, why don’t I know you?” It asks. Everyone else turns to look at the two of them, seemingly in shock.

“Um… we’re new,” Cady stutters. “I’m Cady, this is Janis.”

“You’re both, like, really pretty,” the girl says.

“Uh… thanks,” Cady says.

“So you agree?”

“Huh?”

“You think you’re really pretty,” the girl says. “Or were you talking about that one? Are you some kind of-”

Suddenly, another voice comes by. “Absolutely not. Regina, stop with the mind games and kindly shut the fuck up. Nobody here actually cares what you have to say and your hair looks like hay.”

Janis yelps as she and Cady are dragged away from the table, down the hall and out the doors into the courtyard by the owner of the voice. They’re finally released once they’re under a large oak tree. They both turn to find a tall, sweet looking boy in a t-shirt with a drag queen on it.

“Sorry about that, but it’s for your own good,” he says. “I’m Damian Hubbard, token school gay and junior activities chair.”

“Oh, you’re in my French class! Well, our French class. You’re the one who wanted to go by Fantine,” Cady exclaims.

“One and the same,” Damian nods. He looks at them expectantly. Cady suddenly realizes what he wants.

“Oh! Sorry. I’m Cady, this is Janis,” Cady says. “We’re new here. Juniors.”

“Fun! Where are you guys from?” He asks.

“I’m from Kenya,” Cady says instantly. Luckily, Damian is so interested in this information that he doesn’t ask where Janis is from. Janis just quietly eats her burger while Damian and Cady chat about Africa.

“So what are your schedules like? I haven’t noticed you in my other classes,” Damian asks once his curiosity about Kenya is sated. He looks specifically at Janis. “I definitely would have noticed you.”

“Today is her first day, she’s been… homeschooled, for a while,” Cady explains as she hands her schedule over. “We have AP Calculus after this, then English.”

“Damn, AP Calc as juniors? You guys must be geniuses,” Damian says, impressed. “We have most of our morning classes together, but I have theater and study hall after this.”

“What’s up with that girl?” Janis asks suddenly, practically the first words she’s said all day. Damian looks at her in brief surprise before launching into a story.

“Regina is sort of queen bee here. Everyone calls her and her little group the Plastics, because… they… look like they’re plastic. She’s a manipulative bitch, just stay away from her. For your own good,” Damian warns.

“She seemed nice,” Cady says confusedly. “She said we were pretty.”

“Regina George is not nice!” Damian exclaims suddenly. “Sorry. I have some… history, with her. We shouldn’t get into it now. Anyway, are you guys, like, sisters?”

They both chuckle. Cady answers, “No, we’re just friends. We actually didn’t meet all that long ago. But we do live together.”

“Neat,” Damian says, not pressing and asking why they live together as just friends. “You don’t seem to talk much, Janis.”

Janis looks to Cady in concern, not knowing how to respond.

“She’s just… wary of new people,” Cady says for her. “She warms up after a while.” Janis nods as if to confirm.

“Ah, that’s chill,” Damian says. “Ew, that made me sound straight. Anyway. I usually eat lunch out here when it’s nice, if you guys want to join me. I’ll be glad to show you around.”

“Thank you,” Cady says gratefully. Janis’ instincts tell her to trust this boy, so she nods as well. The bell rings to signal the end of lunch and they all jump.

“No problem. I’ll see you in homeroom tomorrow!” Damian calls, tugging his bag over his shoulder and waving as he heads back to class.

“He seems fun,” Cady says, waiting for Janis to finish gathering her things. “And nice.”

“I like him,” Janis nods. “And I don’t trust that Regina girl. I think Damian’s right, we should avoid her.”

Cady nods. “Okay, I trust your judgement more than mine. Come on, star girl, we’re gonna be late.”

—————-

A few weeks later, Cady and Janis have officially formed a little squad with Damian. They’re nearly inseparable, and Janis is thankful for the opportunity to observe another human close-up. But she has questions.

“Caddy?” She asks one day while Cady is doing math. Janis is doing something called painting, which Cady had introduced her to. Janis likes it and does seem to have a natural aptitude for it.

“Hmm?”

“What does gay mean? Damian says he’s… whatever it is, but I’ve never heard it used before,” Janis asks.

Cady looks at her. “Um… a gay person is someone who’s attracted to the same sex, either romantically or sexually. So, Damian likes boys.”

“Oh. So I’m gay?” Janis asks. Cady chokes on the small sip of her drink she’s just taken.

“Do you like girls?”

“I think so. I’m not… totally sure what attraction is like, yet, but I’m pretty sure I’m not attracted to any man,” Janis says.

“That’s fine,” Cady says gently. “Girls who are gay are usually called lesbians. But you can also like both boys and girls, and people in between. Or nobody.”

“This is all terribly confusing,” Janis says. Cady chuckles.

“Believe me, I know. Here, you can read through this and see if anything fits. I’m sure it’ll be a little different for you, since you’re not totally… human,” Cady says shyly.

Janis takes the proffered laptop and scrolls through it. She desperately tries to ignore the bookmark on the ‘bisexual’ tab, clearly put there by Cady. That’s personal, Cady would tell her if she wanted her to know.

“I believe I am an asexual lesbian,” Janis says after about eight minutes. Cady looks at her in shock.

“You knew that quickly?”

“It’s what seems to fit best, that’s what you said I should look for,” Janis shrugs.

“Okay. Good for you, Jay,” Cady says quietly. “Proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Janis says. Cady’s eyes suddenly go wide as she looks at her. “What?”

“Your hair. More of it is brown,” Cady says.

“No,” Janis whispers anxiously, running to the vanity to check in the mirror. There’s about three inches of the dark brown now, but the rest is still her old platinum blonde.

“Janis, what’s going on? Please,” Cady begs. “What does this mean? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Janis says quietly. “It’s fine.”

Alarms go off in Cady’s head again. Janis will tell you when she’s ready. Don’t push, she reminds herself.

“You’ll tell me if something does happen, though?” Cady confirms.

“Yes,” Janis says. About anything except this. “I promise. It’s fine.”

Cady doesn’t question it further, even when she hears Janis awake all night.

————-

Janis is tidying the basement a few weeks later to help out Cady’s parents. For a bit of entertainment, she switches on the mental link she shares with Cady. They’ve discovered that if only one of them has it ‘on’, they only get the bare bones of what the other is feeling. It’s actually kind of handy.

Janis is immediately overwhelmed with stressed and anxious vibes coming through. To save herself a potentially literal headache, she flicks it back off and rushes upstairs to save Cady.

Cady jumps slightly when she comes barreling into the bedroom, but only looks up from her books briefly before she turns back.

“What’s wrong?” Janis asks.

“Nothing,” Cady says airily, but Janis can see the tension in her shoulders and the clench in her jaw. Cady can apparently feel her staring in disbelief, because she sighs and turns around. “We have a big English test next week, I’m trying to study. I’m… really not good at English.”

“You speak it well,” Janis says. “I think you’re good.”

“Thanks, Janis,” Cady chuckles sadly. “There’s just so many rules, and then there’s always exceptions to the rules. It doesn’t make sense.”

Janis has found this to be true with her studies of humans as well, so she certainly can relate. “Can I help?”

Cady grins at her affectionately. “I could use a cuddle.”

Janis heads over immediately to wrap her friend in a tight hug, resting her chin on top of Cady’s red hair. Cady sighs contently against her neck and cuddles closer. Janis squeezes her in return.

They stay like that for a long, peaceful moment before Janis suddenly gets a brilliant idea.

“Ooh! Wait here, I’ll be right back,” she says excitedly. Cady pouts at the sudden removal of her snuggles, but sits obediently back at her desk to wait.

Janis comes stumbling back in with her easel and all of her painting supplies, crashing into the room and setting everything up with a good deal of noise.

“I need to teach you some more subtlety,” Cady giggles. “What are you doing?”

“Paint,” Janis says around a mouthful of brushes. She removes them before she continues. “With me. To relax!”

“Jay, that’s sweet, but I really can’t paint,” Cady says. “I should get back to studying anyway.”

“No,” Janis insists. “I don’t know human physiology that well, but I know that’s not healthy. You come paint with me. Right now.”

Cady can’t help but giggle as she purses her lips and puffs out her chest dramatically. “Fine, fine. If you want me to waste your paint.”

“You bought it for me,” Janis shrugs. “And its whole purpose is to make things. It never says it has to be something professional or seen by others as ‘good’. If you make something with it and it helps you calm down, then I don’t see how it’s been wasted.”

“You’re awfully poetic sometimes, you know that?” Cady chuckles. “You have to help me.”

Janis nods eagerly and gets her pallet all set up. She stands behind Cady and guides her hand to help her paint a sunset, resting her chin on Cady’s shoulder and murmuring instructions into her ear. Cady seems a bit more tense than before, for some reason.

Cady does relax after a while. The texture of the thick paint flowing over the canvas is very soothing, and she has an excellent guide behind her. But the painting still isn’t turning out the way she wanted, which is frustrating.

“Relax, you’re so tense,” Janis says calmingly. “You’re shredding the brush.”

“I’m painting,” Cady grumbles.

“You’re massacring it,” Janis chuckles. In retaliation, Cady dabs some lavender paint onto her brush and swipes it over Janis’ nose. “Hey!”

Teasingly, Cady reaches out again and waggles the brush in front of Janis’ face. Janis snatches it and the pallet and dabs some yellow over Cady’s cheek. Cady gasps at the betrayal.

She grabs another brush and a bottle of cheap acrylic, squeezing some out onto another pallet that she also uses as a shield. Janis lunges again, barely managing a streak of blue down Cady’s forehead. Cady retaliates with some pink on Janis’ collarbone.

By the time Janis runs out of materials, they’re both much more colorful than they were a few minutes ago. But Cady is laughing delightedly, which was Janis’ whole goal.

Janis lunges forward and grabs her small friend, holding her close and spinning her around while Cady laughs. Janis suddenly realizes she really wants to kiss her. That’s new.

Cady cuddles close once Janis puts her down and nuzzles into Janis’ neck. “Thank you, Jay. I needed that.”

“Anytime, Birdie,” Janis replies quietly.

“Birdie?” Cady asks.

“Your name,” Janis says. “Heron. It’s a bird. I learned that humans sometimes call animals things that end with that sound for affection. Like doggy or kitty. Or birdie.”

“Cute,” Cady hums. “Herons aren’t really… cute birds, though. They’re pretty big.”

“Let me have this,” Janis pleads.

“Okay,” Cady giggles. She pushes up on her tiptoes to kiss Janis’ cheek. “I’m gonna go wash this off. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Janis squeaks, thankful that the paint hides how hard she’s blushing.

Nearly a third of her hair is brown when she checks the mirror to scrub the paint away.

————-

Janis gets home the next afternoon after a hangout with Damian to find Cady with a green face. She jumps and runs back out of their shared bedroom in fright.

“Janis, come back,” Cady laughs. “I’m just doing some skincare, it’s okay.”

“Why are you green?” Janis asks warily.

“It’s a face mask. This one has avocado,” Cady says, putting her book aside and reaching for her. “The paint yesterday kind of irritated my skin, so I’m doing this to help calm it down.”

“Oh,” Janis says. “You’re not sick?”

“No,” Cady says. “I’m perfectly fine. Face masks are actually very relaxing. Did you have fun with Dame?”

“Yeah,” Janis says absently, looking curiously at the green goop on Cady’s face. “He taught me the dance he came up with for that one Lady Gaga song.”

“Oh, really? You’ll have to show me later,” Cady giggles. “Do you wanna try a mask?”

Janis nods curiously, so Cady heads back to the bathroom to grab the pot of it. Janis eyes it warily but does let Cady lie her down and gently brush it over her face.

Cady doesn’t think for a terribly long time before she decides that straddling Janis is the best way to get it on. She’s filled with regret quite quickly, realizing this is a rather compromising position.

“You have beautiful skin,” she murmurs as she rubs the goop gently into Janis’ cheeks.

“Thanks?” Janis says confusedly. “Like, to eat? Is that what you’re doing?”

To kiss, maybe, Cady thinks, but desperately doesn’t say. “No, not to eat, goofy. But it’s very soft. Feels nice.”

Janis nods thoughtfully. Cady swipes a little bit onto her chin, and she pokes her tongue out to taste it without thinking. “Blech.”

“It’s not to eat, I just said,” Cady giggles. “It’s for your skin, it’s not food.”

“You said it was avocado,” Janis pouts.

“I said it has avocado, it has other things in it too,” Cady says. “Things that don’t taste very good.”

Janis continues pouting at the lack of food as Cady finishes covering her face. Cady suddenly realizes she’s very tempted to kiss it away. It’s romantic, in a way, to be doing this with Janis. Sharing a face mask and looking into each other’s eyes.

“What now?” Janis asks curiously. Cady goes to clean her hands off before she answers.

“Now you leave it on for a while and relax,” she responds, shoving Janis over on the bed and crawling in next to her. Janis pouts again.

“Relaxing is boring,” she whines.

“It wasn’t boring yesterday,” Cady responds. “Just talk to me.”

“About what?” Janis asks.

“I dunno,” Cady shrugs. “Um… what’s your favorite thing about Earth, so far? Besides coffee?”

Janis thinks for a while. Cady twines their fingers together in the meantime without thinking about it, giving Janis’ hand a gentle squeeze. Janis squeezes back before she answers.

“You,” she says quietly. “And Damian. Getting to know you face to face is… so much better than watching you from above. And I would never have met him if I hadn’t fallen. I got the best tour guides to Earth.”

Cady is nearly in tears at her answer. “I’m glad I can. Well, I’m not glad you fell. But I am glad it gave me a chance to meet you. I love-“ I love you.

Janis looks at her expectantly.

“I love getting to know you,” Cady finishes. That was close.

Janis grins at her adorably. “Thanks, Caddy.”

“Of course,” Cady whispers. Janis continues talking, saving Cady having to try to recover for a long moment. When the time is up Cady grabs a warm cloth to swipe the mask away with. She finds herself having to actively hold back from kissing the star beneath her.

Maybe she is still stupid with love.

—————-

Janis likes Damian. He doesn’t mind that she doesn’t speak very much, and makes an effort to get to know her anyway. They have little hangouts without Cady from time to time, just to get to know each other.

“Damian?” Janis asks quietly one day as she sits on his bed. Damian pauses his passionate cover of Hello from The Book of Mormon.

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

Damian pauses his backing track and comes to sit next to her. “Not real love, I don’t think. I’ve had, like, crushes and stuff, though. Why?”

“What is it like?” Janis asks. “How do you know?”

“Well, um… you think about them a lot. Want to spend time together, maybe you want to cuddle or kiss them. I always got a kind of warm feeling in my chest whenever I was around him, and it just felt… right, to be together. Like you make sense together,” Damian says. “That’s not a great explanation, sorry.”

“No, it’s-it’s fine,” Janis murmurs.

“Is this prompted by anyone?” Damian asks. “You don’t have to tell me, but I won’t tell them if you don’t want me to.”

“IthinkI’minlovewithCady,” Janis says rapidly. Damian gasps happily and looks at her, then scrambles back on the bed away from Janis. “Is that bad?”

“No, no, that’s-that’s fine,” Damian squeaks. “But what’s happening with your eyes?”

“What?”

“Your eyes are… they’re glowing. Why are they glowing, how long have they done that? Are you a witch?” Damian asks rapidly. Janis runs to look in the mirror, and sure enough, her eyes are glowing a gentle gold color.

She slaps her hands over them and presses her back against the wall. “Don’t freak out.”

“Too late,” Damian calls loudly. “Why the fuck are you glowing, Janis?!”

“Shh,” Janis hushes. “Would you shut up? It’s kind of important other people don’t know about this.”

“But why are your eyes fucking-mmph!” Damian tries to ask again, getting cut off by Janis’ hands slamming over his mouth.

“I’m gonna take my hands away,” Janis says. “And you’re gonna be quiet. I’ll explain, but you have to be calm. Or I will tape your mouth shut. Capiche?”

Damian nods, so Janis removes her hands. He takes a second to breathe. “But are you a witch?” He asks quietly.

“No, I’m not a witch,” Janis grumbles. “I’m a star.”

“You-you-you-“ Damian stutters. “Huh?”

“I’m a star. From the sky,” Janis says. “In your years, I’m about seventeen million years old. I’m Cady’s guardian star. She wished on me and I fell to Earth. And now we’re here.”

Damian blinks at her. “You’re… a star.” Janis nods. “You’re not bullshitting me?” Janis shakes her head. “Prove it. Please.”

“My eyes glowing aren’t enough for you?” Janis asks. Damian shakes his head. “Fine. Grab some sunglasses and oven mitts and meet me in your backyard.”

“What?”

“Just do it,” Janis groans, heading out to the backyard to prepare herself. Luckily, Damian lives in a pretty isolated part of the suburbs. He meets her after a few minutes wearing some cool shades and Animal Crossing patterned oven mitts. “Ready?”

Damian nods, so Janis slips her bracelets off and holds them in her hands. It takes a bit of effort to get them to shift back into her aura, which worries her, but she’ll have to deal with that later. She feels the once familiar warming sensation of her light emanating from her, and the soothing motion of her hair starting to flow down her back. The glow of her eyes is even stronger now.

Damian’s jaw drops in shock. His best friend is a star. He comes up and pokes her arm curiously with one of the mitts. There’s a sizzling noise and a small char mark on the glove, but luckily no other damage. Janis condenses her aura again, this time fashioning some cool piercings that she slips in. They fit her punk look much better. Poor Damian is still trying to process.

“You’re a star,” he says in awe. “That’s so cool! What is star world like? Do you have other star friends? How did you get to be Cady’s star? Do I have a star too?”

Janis grabs him gently and guides him back inside, promising to answer all his questions in due time. The only evidence left behind are two black footprints in the grass where she stood.

————-

Damian has a school show in February. Cady and Janis buy tickets on the first day they’re available, eager to see him in his element.

But Janis has come to a sad realization. Her hair changing colors and her waning ability to change her jewelry back can only mean one thing.

She’s becoming human.

Janis knows she doesn’t belong on Earth. She’s a star. She belongs in the sky, watching over Cady from above. If she stays much longer, she won’t be able to get back.

It’s not as if she wants to leave. She loves Cady in every way a human can love another. And recently, she’s had reason to believe that Cady loves her in return. Janis wants to experience that. But she thinks she wants to be where she belongs more.

Secretly, Janis writes letters. Three, to be precise. One to Cady’s parents to thank them for allowing her to stay with them and being so kind to her. One to Damian, to thank him for being such a good friend and sticking around to take care of Cady Earth side. And one to Cady, saying everything she wants so desperately to say out loud.

She hides them in her backpack, somewhere Cady won’t look until it’s time.

————-

Janis tries to spend as much time as she possibly can with her friends. She makes sure she can do her homework with Cady, and goes to Damian’s house after school almost every day. Neither of them complain. Cady especially doesn’t complain that Janis keeps sneaking into bed with her for cuddles in the middle of the night.

Today is a Damian day. Cady has a Mathletes competition that Janis wasn’t allowed to attend, so Janis gets to invite him over. Damian immediately pulls out a thick script and asks her to help him with his lines.

Janis does happily, curling up next to him on her bed and going off. Damian complains when she keeps giggling at his acting, but they make it through the first act mostly unscathed.

“D, can I ask you something?” Janis asks now that they’re taking a break, hanging off the side of the bed and looking around the room upside-down. Damian flops next to her and does the same.

“Sure.”

“When Caddy and I first met you, you said you had history with Regina,” Janis says. “But she’s not in our history class. What did you mean?”

“Oh,” Damian says. “No, I meant, like, personal history. Drama. We were friends in elementary school. We had dance classes together and stuff. Karen and Gretchen came along a little later and we were all buds. And then I came out as trans in middle school.”

Janis remembers seeing that term when she was researching the LGBT+ community online. She suddenly realizes this story is more personal than she originally anticipated.

“Regina was… not nice about it,” Damian continues after a shaky breath. “We were twelve. She already had some issues and stuff, and I’m honestly not sure she knew what trans meant. Not completely, anyway. She asked me what I thought I was, and I said that I knew I was a boy. And then she just kind of laughed and left me alone. I got to school the next day and there were a bunch of slurs carved into my locker. And suddenly the whole school knew.”

“Oh, Damian,” Janis mumbles. Damian cuddles closer into her when she reaches out. Janis has to hold herself back from unleashing her true form on Regina George and cooking her to a crisp. “That bitch. I’m so sorry.”

“It was what it was,” Damian shrugs. “Anyway, I didn’t know… what to do, really. I thought she would at least be willing to hear me out, learn with me. Still be my friend. But she never talked to me again. I turned around when I saw my locker and ran all the way back home. My mom took me out of school for the rest of the year and I got to go to this drama camp therapy place instead. And then I came back to school as a sophomore. And then this year I met you guys.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Janis murmurs. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Janjan,” Damian says quietly. “Can you only grant Caddy’s wishes or do I get one too?”

“I might be able to pass something on,” Janis chuckles.

“All I’ve wanted from Regina since then is an apology,” Damian says. “Just one genuine ‘I’m sorry’. I don’t even want to see her get, like, hit by a bus or anything anymore. Just that.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Janis whispers. She doesn’t have the heart to tell him it doesn’t quite work that way. But she’ll be damned if she won’t try. “In the meantime, we’re here for you. Cady loves you too, I know. You should tell her too, whenever you feel ready. She’ll support you.”

“Thanks, Jan,” Damian whispers. “Woo, this got too deep, come dance with me.”

Janis happily stands up and does their favorites dances with him. Cady joins in when she gets home, and they have their best sleepover yet. It’s a perfect day.

—————

“Janis?” Cady calls as she enters their shared room on a Thursday. Janis looks up from her easel to see her. “I have a competition tomorrow, do you want to come?”

“Yes,” Janis says immediately. She’s wanted to go to one of Cady’s Mathletes competitions since she first joined the team in the fall, but the opportunity never came up.

“Okay. What are you up to?” Cady says, coming to peek at her painting in progress. “Aww, is that us?”

Janis nods, letting her look at the vaguely abstract painting of their ‘art freak’ trio. She decides against letting her know it’s a goodbye present. That can wait.

“How sweet,” Cady says. “You’ve really improved, wow.”

“Thanks,” Janis murmurs. “How was practice?”

“Good! I think we’re ready,” Cady chirps. “Tomorrow is our biggest competition though, so I’m not sure.”

“You’ll do great,” Janis says confidently.

“Thanks, Jay,” Cady responds with a grin.

-

The next day after school, Janis heads to the auditorium to watch Cady compete. Cady had to wear her uniform to school, and she looks so cute in it that Janis had to walk to class alone to avoid pulling her aside and confessing everything.

She finds a seat close to the front, and on the opposite side to Cady so they can see each other easily. Janis smiles seeing her interact with her teammates. She’s glad Cady has made more friends. It’ll make things easier for both of them when it’s time for Janis to go.

—-

Cady laughs and jokes with her teammates before warm up, but she’s slyly looking for Janis too. She’s scanning the crowd for that familiar part-blonde hair.

She doesn’t find it until they head to their spots at the podium. Cady perks up when she sees her friend and waves happily, laughing when Janis waves back and gives her two thumbs up.

Cady realizes the issue a few equations in. She knows the work and how to do it, but she’s so distracted looking at Janis in the crowd that she almost misses the time. Focus, Cady.

But Janis has the widest smile on her face, watching Cady in her element, that Cady can hardly bear to look away. She shakes her head to try and snap herself back into the competition.

After a while Kevin notices her distraction, and he isn’t pleased. He looks up with her to see what she’s looking at. “Yo, Africa, get your head in the game. Talk to your girlfriend later.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Cady hisses, but she does blush rather violently.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Kevin whispers back.

Cady grumbles nonsense under her breath and scratches down her thinking for the problem. This time she does make it and hits her buzzer to answer first. She’s tied the game. The competition goes into a lightning round, and, as always, her team picks her as their tribute.

Cady looks out to see Janis for a confidence boost, smiling when she sees Janis waving wildly at her and beaming proudly. God, why does she have to be so cute?

She doesn’t notice her time has started until almost half of it is gone, with her teammates yelling at her from behind. She scrambles to grab her pencil and tries to remember what she’s looking for in the first place. Janis, her mind supplies helpfully. Not helpful.

Luckily, the problem is on the screen behind the announcer. Find the limit. She looks back to her math again and continues penciling down her thinking, but the girl across from her slams her buzzer first.

“Shuck,” Cady grumbles under her breath as she gives her answer. Luckily, it’s incorrect and Cady has a chance to steal. “Oh!”

She feels a warm sensation in her head and faintly hears a, “You can do it.” Janis is cheering her on psychically. Cady looks again and realizes something.

“The limit does not exist!” She yells as she slams her buzzer so hard she almost breaks it. The boys erupt into cheers when the announcer reveals she’s correct and has won the event for them.

The audience breaks into polite applause as she shakes her opponent’s hand. Cady laughs as she hears a loud, “Woo!” That definitely came from Janis.

“Is that your girlfriend?” Tyler asks, pointing to the crowd.

“No! Why does everyone keep asking that?” Cady huffs. “She’s just a friend.”

“Then why are you blushing?” Marwan teases.

“Oooooooh, Africa’s crushiiiiiiiiing,” Kevin adds childishly. Cady blushes harder.

“No I’m not!”

“Dude, you were staring at her the whole competition, you almost lost it because of her,” Kevin says, suddenly much more serious. “You so are.”

“Okay, fine,” Cady admits squeakily. “Maybe I am crushing. Just a little.”

“Aww, our baby Mathlete has a crush!” Tyler coos. “And on a girl!”

Cady thinks they’d really get along with Damian. “Yeah, okay, laugh it up. But none of you say anything, I don’t think she likes me back.”

“I don’t know, she never stopped looking at you, either,” Marwan says. “It’s worth a shot.”

“Really?” Cady asks shyly. “No. Never mind. I’ll think about it.”

“We’ll take it,” Kevin says. “She’s probably waiting, you should go.”

“You guys won’t tell anyone?” Cady asks anxiously.

“‘Course not,” Tyler insists. “Go celebrate, Africa.”

Cady grins shyly. “Thanks, guys. Good competition, I’ll see you Monday.”

-

Janis meets her in the parking lot afterwards, startling Cady by scooping her up from behind and spinning her around.

“You won!” Janis cheers happily, wrapping her in the tightest hug Cady thinks she’s ever been in. “I’m so proud of you!”

Cady giggles in her hold. “Thanks, Jay. Did you like watching? I hope you weren’t bored.”

“No, it was fun! You’re very smart,” Janis says, linking their hands together as they start their walk home.

“You have all my knowledge too, you’re smart,” Cady says.

“I may have all the knowledge, but that sure as hell doesn’t mean I know how to use it,” Janis chuckles.

“That’s fair, I guess,” Cady chuckles. “God, I’m tired. I don’t wanna walk. Janis, carry me.”

“Okay,” Janis shrugs. Cady shrieks when she’s suddenly lifted off the ground and being carried baby-style back home. “What?”

“I was joking,” Cady chuckles anxiously. “I didn’t think you could actually carry me. I’m just surprised.”

“Do you want me to put you down?” Janis asks.

“I didn’t say that,” Cady murmurs. Janis chuckles as she cuddles into her neck and stays there the rest of their journey home.

-

Cady truly can sleep anywhere, because she falls asleep in Janis’ hold before they even reach their block. Janis helpfully carries her up the stairs and tucks her into bed, but she doesn’t manage to do it without waking her up.

“Don’t go,” Cady grumbles groggily, clinging to her hand.

“Okay,” Janis murmurs, crawling in after her and letting Cady snuggle into her again. Cady huffs contently. Janis is so soft and warm.

“Tell me a story.”

“About what?” Janis asks.

“I dunno,” Cady yawns. “What was your life like before you came to Earth?”

Janis nods. “Okay. I actually don’t think you’ll find it particularly interesting. I’m kind of like an intern there, I’m not old enough to really be a guardian star on my own. So I meet with the council periodically to discuss how I’m doing, and they tell me what events or other things to watch for while I observe you. Or help me grant your wishes.”

“Council?” Cady asks. She doesn’t even open her eyes.

“That’s the best way I can describe it. Elder stars, or ones that have more experience. Actually, your sun and the one you humans call Sirius are kind of like co-presidents. Council is in charge of carrying out fates, and they give final say on what wishes go through.”

“I never got anything I wished for,” Cady grumbles.

“I am sorry about that,” Janis murmurs. “They don’t work quite the way you would think. We can’t grant them literally, or you humans would realize there’s a sort of higher power at work. So when you wished for a pet cat when you were eight? I sort of… stepped in, and got those twin lion cubs to imprint on you. That’s as close as I was allowed to get.”

“I did love them,” Cady whispers. “Keep going.”

“Okay,” Janis chuckles. “Um… council also decides what happens to stars once their destinies are either fulfilled or broken. Shooting stars are the ones who get exiled for good. It’s sort of like death, but not. Every once in a while they decide who goes supernova, or who forms a black hole, things like that. I’m not sure why they decided to grant your wish literally this time. Or with me. But I’m glad they did.”

Cady puffs contently in her sleep once Janis stops talking. Janis takes that to mean that she’s glad too.

—————

Cady has definitely noticed a shift in Janis’ energy over the last while. Janis doesn’t talk as much, or smile as much. She seems to be making an effort to be with Cady and Damian as much as possible. Cady worries, but Janis promised to tell her if something was wrong.

So, they get ready for Damian’s show together. Janis looks dashing in her floral patterned dress and leather jacket, and Cady nearly matches in her own black dress and pink sweater. They’re opposites, but still go together. It’s rather fitting.

They head in together, holding hands as the house lights go down. They don’t let go.

-

Damian is a marvelous performer. Cady and Janis cheer by far the loudest when his curtain call comes, but it’s hard to tell over the applause of the rest of the crowd.

They meet him in the wings and hand over the flowers they bought on the way there.

“Dame, you were incredible!” Cady cheers, throwing herself at him for a hug. He catches her and holds her close happily.

“She’s right, it was killer,” Janis agrees. She knows she sounds rather melancholy and tries to keep that out of her voice. “Proud of you, dude.”

“Thank you,” Damian says happily. “Let’s go celebrate.”

He takes them to Waffle House for dinner. Cady is delighted, and Janis is cheered up a little just watching her with her favorite food. Her plan was to leave tonight. Maybe she can wait until tomorrow.

Janis snaps out of her thoughts for the time being and chats animatedly with her friends. They watch horror movies in their pajamas back at Damian’s house for a sleepover. Cady hides in Janis’ lap the whole time. Janis doesn’t mind.

Janis doesn’t sleep, either. Cady is snuggled into her chest, snoring quietly. Janis kisses her forehead, and the corners of Cady’s mouth tick up in a little smile. Cady cuddles in closer and snuffles contently. Janis stays awake to watch her all night.

Janis can’t bring herself to say goodbye. It’s not as if she wants to leave the only… family that she’s ever known. But she has to. Janis leaves the letters with each of her friends and heads into the woods nearby before they wake.

-

Cady wakes with a start. Janis is gone.

There’s a letter where she was when Cady drifted off in her warm, soft hold. Cady tears into the one addressed to her.

Cady,

I’m sorry. If you’re reading this then I’m gone.

I don’t belong here, I think you and I both know that. I need to go back. I think I granted your wish well enough. And now you have Damian. I know he’ll stick by you through anything, like you wanted.

Thank you for being my friend. I don’t think I could’ve asked for a better human to be assigned to. Even without my intervention, you’re number one. Keep that going. Keep being you.

I wish I could stay longer, but if I wait any more it’ll be too late. I’m already fading. You wanted to know why my hair turned brown. It changed color because I’m becoming human. I think I have you to thank for that. If I could stay it would’ve been a good thing. Because one of the most human things is to love.

Thank you for showing me what that means. Even though I practically forced my presence into your life, you accepted me with open arms. You treated me like a friend. You helped me adapt to a place I never imagined I would see. Thank you.

I love you so much, Cady. I wish I could’ve told you in person. I wish I could’ve known what it’s like to kiss you, to feel your touch.  To hold you close and call you mine. But it would be too hard to leave you if you knew how I feel. You’ll find someone else. I know you will. I just hope you’re happy at the end of the day, my little bird.

I’ll always remember you. If you ever get lonely, you know where to find me. I’ll be there to watch over you, always. I love you.

Shine bright for me, little star.

Love,

Janis

Cady bursts into tears when she reaches the end of the letter, startling Damian awake.

“Wuzzamatter?” He asks blearily. “Where’s Janis?”

“She’s gone,” Cady sobs. “She said she has to go back.”

“No,” Damian says, scrambling for his own letter. “She can’t be gone.”

“She didn’t even say goodbye,” Cady weeps. “And-and I never got to tell her how much I love her.”

“You guys have a-a link, right?” Damian asks frantically. “Maybe she hasn’t left yet, maybe-maybe we can talk her out of it.”

Cady needs a miracle right now. She focuses hard and turns the connection on, like Janis taught her to. Almost like a compass points north, she feels a compulsion to go west, towards the woods nearby.

“She’s that way, if she’s still here,” Cady sniffles, pointing to the wall. “Come on.”

Damian runs after her barefoot, both of them still in their pajamas. They run almost ten blocks, then hit the edge of the woods. Both of them desperately ignore the rocks and sticks poking their feet as they run into the forest.

A blinding light shines through the trees, and they both wince for a second. Are they too late?

“She’s this way, come on!” Cady yells, running full tilt into the light. “Janis!”

They suddenly burst into a clearing, and Janis lies in the middle. Her light surrounds her, and she seems to be floating.

“Janis!” Cady yells. “Wait, please! Don’t leave! Janis!”

Janis doesn’t react. Cady doesn’t know if she can’t hear her, or if she just won’t. As quick as they noticed it, the light fades, and Janis is gone.

“No,” Cady whimpers. “No, no, please.”

She stumbles forward to where Janis was, frantically feeling around in the grass and mud for any sign of her. All that’s left is ash.

Damian lets her cry and scream for a while before he comes to pick her up and guide her back home. “I know, Cads. I know. She’s still-she’s still here. She’s just back in the sky now. Where she belongs.”

Cady clings to him and sobs, so Damian picks her up to carry her away.

-

Cady pauses her desperate cries when a warm sensation hits her. She opens her eyes and is nearly blinded by another flood of light. “Janis.”

She scrambles out of Damian’s hold and runs back to the clearing. The light is so bright it hurts, but Cady presses on.

Just like the first time, Janis lies in the grass bathed in warm light. She’s not breathing, but her eyes suddenly shoot open and she gasps for breath. But this time she starts to cry.

“Janis,” Cady cries desperately. Janis quickly condenses her aura so Cady isn’t burned when she leaps into her. “What happened?”

“Cady,” Janis sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why did you leave?” Cady demands gently. “Why-why didn’t you even say goodbye?”

“It hurt too much,” Janis chokes. “To know-to know I’d never see you again. I had to do it while I had the nerve.”

“And you-you didn’t think I’d miss you? You didn’t think I would want to say goodbye?” Cady sobs.

“I’m sorry,” Janis whispers, pulling her in. “I’m so sorry.”

Cady accepts the offered comfort and sobs into Janis’ shoulder for a long time. Janis lets her, and buries her own face into Cady’s neck. After a while, Cady chokes, “Why did you come back?”

“It’s not important,” Janis says immediately.

“Yes it is, Janis! I’m happy you’re back, but you can’t keep lying to me,” Cady insists. “Or yourself. What happened?”

“I… I’ve been kicked out,” Janis mumbles. “For good this time. I can’t-I can’t get back.”

“Oh, Jay,” Cady whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

Janis breaks down even harder, clinging to her and mourning the loss of her true home. Cady watches as her hair changes color for the final time, half dark brown and half her original platinum blonde. Half human, half star. Janis’ eyes glow briefly before fading to a gorgeous chocolate brown, and the jewels she’s made from her aura turn heavy. The transformation is complete.

“I’m so sorry,” Janis whimpers. Cady cups her face and looks into her eyes. They can both barely see through their tears, but neither of them care.

“Just don’t leave again,” Cady murmurs softly.

“I can’t, now,” Janis jokes weakly. She’s silenced by a glare from the redhead straddling her lap. “I won’t. I didn’t-I didn’t want to in the first place. I just knew I had to try. And I… I meant what I said. In the letter. Every word.”

“Good,” Cady whispers around a small sob. “Because I mean this.”

Janis gasps quietly as Cady pulls her in and slams their lips together. Cady kisses her hungrily, desperately, telling her everything they both need to hear without words. Janis can feel her soft but firm grip, can taste the salt of their tears mingling on their lips. She can hear the soft sniffles let out intermittently, can reach out to touch and pull her redhead closer, she can smell Cady’s cherry shampoo.

Janis has never felt more human.

Cady pulls back and tips her forehead to rest against Janis’. “I love you. I love you so much, my star.”

“I love you too, my little bird,” Janis murmurs. “So much.”

“You’re smiling,” Cady says with slight confusion.

“I’m happy,” Janis responds with a shrug. “Maybe I can’t go home anymore, but… I have you. I get to learn what it’s like to love you. You’re my home now. All I’ll ever need.”

Cady chokes out a sob and kisses her again. “I’ll help you. I’ll guide you like you did for me. We have each other.”

Damian comes bursting into the clearing then, dripping wet and panting slightly. Janis gently removes Cady from her lap and runs full tilt towards him.

He catches her with a small grunt, but holds her close. “You’re back.”

“Forever,” Janis confirms. “I’m sorry.”

“The only thing you have to apologize for is that fucking light of yours,” Damian grumbles. “I couldn’t see when you came back and I fell in the pond.”

So that’s why it had taken him so long to find them. “I’m sorry about that, too.”

“You’d better be,” Damian huffs. “What happened?”

Janis turns to look at her love, who is now lying on her stomach and chatting animatedly with a squirrel. Janis doesn’t think her old star magic had anything to do with it, that kind of thing just seems inherent to Cady.

“She happened,” Janis whispers. “She’s been the answer from the beginning. I just know it now.”

Cady looks up when she feels their gaze on her, smiling when she sees Janis. She comes running towards them when Janis reaches out for her. They hear a quiet gasp when they both lean in for a kiss.

“What happened, Dame?” Cady asks worriedly when they pull back.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Damian grumbles. “Can we get you lovebirds home so I can dry off?”

“Yeah, come on,” Cady chuckles. She stands in the middle and holds both of their hands, clinging to Janis especially tightly. They leave Damian at his house with the promise to meet again for lunch before heading back to their own.

Cady lies down on her bed, exhausted from the morning, and pulls Janis down with her. Janis falls with a gentle huff and cuddles in closer.

“Jay?” Cady murmurs against her chest.

“Hmm?”

“Why did you get kicked out?”

“The first time, I didn’t know. I was never great at being a star either, I thought council deciding to grant your wish with me meant I was being fired, basically,” Janis chuckles. “That’s why I was so crabby. I’m sorry about that, by the way.”

“And this time?” Cady asks quietly.

“Because I was meant to,” Janis says, stroking through Cady’s hair gently. “All along.”

“Huh?”

“Stars work a little differently from humans,” Janis says. “We have destinies, fates we have to fulfill. We’re kind of like puppets, in a weird way. We don’t even get to know our own destinies. Humans don’t have them, you’re- we’re- free to make our own decisions. Every once in a while a star just grants a wish to give you a little nudge in the right direction.”

“So… your destiny was to-“ Cady stumbles.

“To be with you,” Janis finishes. “From the moment the universe was created, we were destined to be together. I just didn’t know it until now.”

“So we’re like soulmates?” Cady asks, tipping up to look at her. Janis presses a sweet kiss against her lips before she answers.

“Kind of,” Janis agrees. “But it was never foretold what our relationship was meant to be. We could’ve stayed friends, or been… enemies, or just strangers who met in passing. You could’ve kicked me out when I showed up in the backyard and that would’ve been that. Or you could’ve waited to make that wish until you were eighty years old, we’ll never know. All that was ever dictated was that we meet and I stay near you. Falling in love was our doing. And now that I’m a human, I don’t have a destiny anymore. I’ve been fulfilled. I make my own life. The rest is up to us, now.”

Cady blinks at her. “Then I’m glad it turned out this way. I love you.”

“Me too, my little star,” Janis murmurs back. “Me too.”

I love you more than all the stars in the sky.

-

thanks for reading!! i apparently have hit the maximum number of text blocks (tumblr, ew) so get ready for a text block!! in some sad news, there will not be a new chapter next week. i need to take some time for myself for the sake of my own mental health. i’ve noticed a few little inklings of burnout, which is not what i want!! i want to continue this and give you guys quality stuff to read. im hoping that this will give me a chance to build up a cache of works so i’m not scrambling to write in a week to get stuff posted, and that will give me more time for myself. in some bittersweet news, this is also my last (for now) original idea! from here on i’ll be reliant on requests to keep going. im gonna finish some older ones and then hopefully, finally, open them up again!! yay! anyway, thank you all so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed!! lots of love, ezzy

[ilguna]

Metanoia - Chapter Five (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 4k

Warnings; swearing

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

It’s really funny how they set a uniform to wear for the private session with the gamemakers. They haven’t really done that before, and you know that because of your years of mentoring. They don’t have a set outfit that they want the tributes to wear. Sure, they have guidelines, but nothing this strict.

It’s a tracksuit jacket that goes up to your throat. You zip it up all the way, squinting at yourself in the mirror, because this wouldn’t have been your first choice for a uniform. You don’t look too terribly bad, it’s just the fact that you’ve never worn something so… hideous.

Despite this all, you pull your hair out of your face again, it’s even messier than it has been the past three days for training. Progressively, you’ve begun to care less about what you look like. You’ve been zeroing in on as many skills as you can gather like a hoarder. You spent the first day just training, and the last two days learning the useful stuff. The shit they don’t teach in the academy.

It was a good couple of days, even if you were forced to make conversation with the hogs of the stations. The good news is that Cecelia is much more tolerable than Woof. Woof is incompetent, the man will die in the bloodbath. He doesn’t move fast, he doesn’t think straight, and he’ll be a target for you.

You weren’t expecting very much out of him in the first place. He goes right onto the list of the other imcompetent competitors. The list has tripled past your expectations. These games are going to be a walk in the park.

Brutus is already waiting in the main room when you get out there. He’s got an orange in his hand, already peeled. He looks up when you enter, and without a word, stands and heads for the door. This afternoon, Neysa and Edmond will be nowhere in sight. You haven’t seen Theo in days, but that’s no matter.

Neysa and Edmond will be consulting with the stylist to make sure that the interview outfits are matching. Amias is already working with whoever is working with Brutus, but it’s for more understanding. Neysa knows what you would like to wear, and Edmond will have an idea for what Brutus would like.

Brutus holds out a single orange slice.

You prick it from his fingers popping it in your mouth. When you bite down, the juice explodes in your mouth. It’s sweet, a little tangy. You don’t pride yourself with oranges, since they’re such a rare thing to come across in District Two. You guys might be rich and a favorite, but it doesn’t mean you get everything that you desire.

The elevator brings you down to the same floor you’ve been for the past three days. The ride is short, the doors open, you guys step out and head towards the room where you’ll be waiting to be called in. This shouldn’t take very long. After everyone gets inside the room, it’s only three people before it’s your turn.

Walking in, there’s only a couple of people here already. A few of which you’ve actually talked to, during your time of rotation in the training room. Cashmere and Gloss already sit by the wall up front, so you allow Brutus to go in first, since you’ll be sitting on the end of the row.

There’s three rows of four to fit all twenty-four of you in here. The way that things are laid out in here kinda make sense, but you wish that they had allowed District Two to be up against the wall. You’d rather be leaning against the cold concrete while your body is beginning to heat up.

You’re not mad, you’re not embarrassed, this is something that doesn’t belong to you again. It could very well be nerves, again. Since it basically feels the exact same as it did last time…

Maybe the jacket is too much, because there is no reason why you should be feeling like it’s ninety degrees because you’re anxious. You unzip it, and then slip out of the jacket. The second that it’s done though, there’s a whistle behind you.

Gloss turns to look to see who it is, but it doesn’t take a genius to know who’s going to keep harassing you. It’s Finnick, and he’s probably just come in here with Mags. You haven’t turned around since you got inside, mainly because you don’t care who comes in or out. You just want the room to be full already so this show can get started.

“Welcome to the gun show.”

“I really can’t wait until I can knock your fucking teeth out.” you roll your eyes, even if he can’t see it.

Finnick laughs, “I’m not that bad.”

“You are that bad.” you say, “I still don’t know what your goal is.”

“I thought we could be friends.”

“You thought wrong, my friends are sitting right here.”

Brutus snickers but doesn’t say anything, you can practically hear him ask, ‘we’re friends?’

If he’s thinking that, then so are Cashmere and Gloss, but they’re clearly smart enough not to say anything about it. At least they have some intuition that’s telling them that you don’t want to be talking to Finnick. And the best way to escape a conversation is to set grounds, even if they are lies.

“Who says you have to stop there?” Finnick asks.

“For fuck’s sake, just leave me alone.”

If Finnick has anything else to say, he gives it up. The silence is instant, and you welcome it in with open arms. Besides from the occasional ‘whoosh’ of the automatic doors, or the whispers of tributes talking to each other, the room is quiet. 

In no time, the room is full of all the tributes, and Gloss is being called in for his evaluation. As the clock ticks, you can feel yourself grow more anxious. It’s like a bottomless pit in your stomach, or as if you’ve been told that you’re being broken up with. It’s more of a grief feeling.

It’s awful, you don’t like it.

You look down at your wrist, reading over the words again. You run your thumb over them as if they’ll wipe off easily. Of course, they don’t budge even in the slightest. The whole idea of soulmates is crazy.

It’s a dumb concept. Who says that you have to end up with them, anyway? There’s plenty of people that you know, that never followed the rules because they didn’t care. There’s also the fact that you never know if that person is actually alive. It’s not like they fade after the person dies. They’re still as brand new as the day you got them.

You always thought that you’d be able to just overcome it, but with your repelling personality, no dice. That’s fine, you don’t like anyone, anyway. You’ll be content enough to live out the rest of your life in District Two, with two kids--Tanith and Zavian. One who won’t leave you alone, and the other won’t bother to visit.

You won’t be alone forever, you have them, and the occasional person who’s ballsy enough to visit you in your big, old, grand house. And if you can find a single animal you could get as a pet, you’d consider having them around, too. Turn your whole house into a zoo, like the old man that used to live next door, back when you weren’t a victor.

His house was overflowing with animals. Dogs, cats, he had two horses, a cow and a mule in his backyard. In his house were the chickens, goats and pigs. His house was covered in hay and smelt like piss and shit because he never cleaned it. He was too old and too stupid to be running something like that. However, you think he got taken down two years after your win. You went to visit your old house for a few things that you’d remembered that you wanted to move in and the house was just… gone. Like a controlled fire had taken it out.

You can’t say that you feel bad for him, he’s the entire reason why the street smelled so bad. In an upper-class neighborhood like yours, you’re surprised the neighbors hadn’t taken him out any earlier. He’s also the reason why you never opened the windows or doors for more than ten minutes… and why you never went in the backyard, either.

Brutus’ name is called. You fist-bump him, “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” he says.

Cashmere passes him on the way in, she gives you a dainty smile, and then continues her walk out of the room. It’s Brutus, and then it’s you.

“Is The (Y/n) Rosecelli nervous?” Finnick asks.

“I’m not.”

“You’re bouncing your leg like you’re trying to get it to fall off.” 

You hadn’t even realized it. You stop immediately, leaning into your hands as you rub your face, “I’m not nervous, someone else is.”

“Someone else?” 

You look over your shoulder at Finnick, “As much as playing stupid looks on you, don’t start now.”

Finnick is quiet, and then he sputters out a laugh, “You have a soulmate?”

“Everyone does. Mine just happens to be emotional, which is a total drag.” you hiss, “I don’t need to be feeling like this right now.”

The urge to bounce your leg again is like an itch, and you can’t help but to give in.

“I heard taking deep breaths are a fantastic way to calm yourself down.”

You ignore Finnick, it’s not your emotion. You’re confident. You’re excited. You’re enthusiastic. You’re calm. You have nothing to be worried about. You’re going to do great.

You can feel it all start to cease.

You’re an amazing fighter. You’re going to get great scores. You know what you want to do. You’re going to win. You’re the best one here.

One deep breath in, slowly letting it out, it’s like the anxiety wasn’t even there in the first place. Your leg stops, you cross them to ensure it, and continue repeating things to yourself. A much needed ego boost to keep your hands from shaking and your mind from collapsing.

Whoever your soulmate is, you’re beginning to hate them. They’re fucking up basically everything. It’s embarrassing, and you’re never embarrassed.

“Wow--”

“Zip it.” you snap, eyes focused on the door.

“District Two, (Y/n) Rosecelli. Report for individual assessment.” the voice over the intercom says.

You uncross your legs, throwing your jacket over your arm as you stand. You move out of the aisle and head towards the door. On the way in, you see Brutus with a grin on his face.

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.” you say.

You pull the jacket on now, zipping it up to your throat, because the room is air conditioned. With no one being in here, it makes the room colder. There’s no body heat to be worrying about. Even with the jacket on, you can still feel the cold air through it. 

You stand in front of the gamemakers, looking up at them. Plutarch Heavensbee--the new head gamemaker after the last one was killed. Word travels between mentors and victors like disease. Obviously it had to do something with the berries that Katniss and tried to eat. The fact that they were inside the arena in the first place was heinous enough. But to use it against the gamemakers, and Crane allowing it to happen…

“You have ten minutes to present your chosen skill.” Plutarch says.

You give a quick nod, wandering over to the nearest hologram station. You got to play around with it on the first day, and realized that going up to the hardest mode wasn’t even hard. It was medium. You broke a sweat after doing it for the third time in a row, and the gamemakers have definitely seen you mess with it before.

They have to assess you over a period of days, not just one. The private session is designed to show off anything that you wouldn’t want the other tributes knowing.

Which is exactly why you skip over all the regular throwing stations, and head right into the bow and arrow one. They have their own tv holograms that they’ll be able to watch you from. 

It’s not a skill you necessarily like. It helps with distance fighting, but since bow and arrows have been associated with Katniss, you’ve basically faded this into nothing. However, you pick up the bow, playing around with the strings to test the tightness. A quiver of arrows is pulled over your shoulder after.

You program the game easily, but before you step in, you turn around and fire an arrow just to see how awful the bow is. It’s not too bad, it’s actually fairly similar to the one they have at the academies. These ones are just tighter because they’re brand new.

You go inside after that. The holograms start off fairly easy. Now that you’re inside, you can see why it was so easy for Katniss to know where they’d be coming from before they were generated. The way that the orange beams move is a clear giveaway.

It takes one arrow for each person, always the center of the chest. If they’re moving, then you make an exception for the head, since it’s the next best thing to wipe someone out immediately.

You can feel yourself go into concentration mode. The beam moves, you spin around. You release the arrow at first chance, nailing the hologram. You grab another arrow, the beam moves, you spin around, release the arrow, get the hologram. Over and over until it’s finally done.

You wish you had some sort of watch so you could know when your time is up, but you decide that this is enough. You place the bow back where it came from, as well as the quiver, which has three arrows left. The arrows inside of the station will be cleaned up by some poor avox, it’s not your job.

You step right in front of the gamemakers again, waiting for them to dismiss you. When they do, you thank them, and then leave the room. You can hear them call in Beetee next, and you pass him on your way out too. Just before you also leave the little waiting room, Finnick and you make eye contact.

And on his face is a half-smile, half-smirk.

--

You plop down on the couch, leaning back against the cushions. Caesar Flickerman introduces the name of the game: tribute training scores. The entire couch is full. From right--where you’re sitter--to left, it sits Amias, Neysa, Edmond, Brutus and Brutus’ stylist. On the adjacent chair sits Theo.

He won’t look in your direction, it’s humorous.

Caesar starts it almost immediately, beginning with boys. Gloss lands himself an eleven, and Cashmere gets herself a ten, which makes you wonder how badly she messed up during her session. She’s supposed to be a career, not some average moron. Anyone with basic capabilities can get a ten.

Next is Brutus, he gets a nice eleven, which makes you all cheer for him in excitement. You want to hold your breath for your own, but you realize that’s not a reaction you would have. So, instead you give a big smile and lean back, crossing your arms. Confidence will get you out of this.

“District Two, (Y/n) Rosecelli with a score of eleven.” He gives a big smile, and you give a look to Brutus.

“And that is how it’s done!”

Brutus laughs, the two of you lean over for high-fives before going back to watching Caesar. Beetee and Wiress get boringly sad and average scores, but there’s not much to expect from them either. They didn’t do anything that would be entertaining over those three days. They get sevens.

The smile fades from your face once Finnick comes up. Your face straightens out and you lean forward. Brutus notices this, “Interested?”

“I gotta know how easy he’ll be to kill.”

“District Four, Finnick Odair with a score of eleven.” Caesar says, “And District Four, Mags Flannagan with a score of six.”

Finnick’s score is no surprise, but you are a little worried over Mag’s. She could have at least gotten a seven considering she did just about the same that Beetee and Wiress did. You suppose it makes sense in a way, though. She’s not going to be a good fighter, and they have to consider that too.

At least you and Finnick are on the same playing field, but he’ll be torn between protecting himself and Mags. You don’t really want to be the one to kill her, but another matching pair of District Four skulls on your arm is just too tempting.

You bring your arm over, looking at it as Caesar announces the next scores. You’ve got quite a collection. You didn’t kill any of District One’s tributes, but you did kill your district mate because it had come down to you two. If you want to keep traditions, Brutus would have to go on too. You wonder if he knows that part of your history.

It skips over District Three, but you got both from four. None from five or six, but you got the doubles on seven, the guy from eight and the girl from ten--oh, and the girl from twelve that had ran into the cornucopia like a dumbass. The total comes out to eight, which really is quite a lot.

Except that year a ton of people had ran into the cornucopia, more than usual. The girls from ten and twelve, and the boy from four had run in. As for the other five, that same day you took out the boy from eight. Your allies had taken out others, since they wanted at least something they could take credit for. 

Four on the first day, and the other four in the span of a week. You were the one with the most kills, you were showered with gifts. No one really stood a chance, not even your district mate. You kept track of the tributes throughout the entire game by carving lines into your arm. The second that the twenty-second guy was dead, you turned on your mate immediately.

It was too quick, it had taken the gamemakers by surprise. The way you turned, grabbed his head with one hand and used your sai’ to stab right through. He crumpled to the ground like a sack of flour, and you stood in the middle of that field, waiting for your crowning.

An entire minute of silence, which made you doubt that you were the winner. You had to count the cuts on your arms to double-check. You had done it each time after you’d heard a cannon, it should be accurate. And while you waited for them to announce your win, after you were sure it was yours, you made that final line.

Obviously they had wanted some fight, looking back on it. The final two should have been easy entertainment, and even sentimental, considering you guys were both from District Two. But there was no hesitation, you were already exhausted from fighting the last guy, and you just wanted it to be over with.

The reason behind why you’d chosen to wipe out the District Four tributes is funny, in some sick way. Of course, your games were right after Finnick’s, and you absolutely hated the way he won. Using his nets to drag people into the water and then uses his trident on them.

It’s the entire reason why you spared nothing for either of the four tributes. You didn’t even fuck with them a little bit like your allies had wanted. You killed them, and you made sure that the cannon had gone off before you’d even bothered to move on. You were so paranoid that they would try something like Finnick had done, again.

As much as people don’t want to admit it, you pay attention to things. Your brain is always turning. You’re keeping track of things, remembering plans and techniques. If you come up across anyone inside of the games, then you’ll know how to act. What they favor more in fights and all that. Not to mention, people like the morphlings and where they like to hide in the trees, what they’re looking for specifically.

It’s a whole ‘nother reason why you’re a perfect candidate. You’re prepared.

Anyway, districts five and six both get that same average score as three. Johanna Mason lands herself a nice ten, and her district mate Blight gets a nine. Not surprising for Johanna, but it is for Blight. Normally guys get higher training scores--and that’s not a sexist thing either.

It’s how your first games went. You had gotten a nine, and it must have been something you’d done during your training days. Unlike other districts, the careers aren’t really told to keep from showing off their skills. In fact, you’re encouraged to. It’s an intimidation tactic to weasel out the weaklings.

And you’re typically ordered to pick your favorites that look like good allies, and after private training day--which is then when you’re able to see the score--you send a formal request for them to be in the alliance. It’s a whole thing, more trouble than it’s actually worth, and it doesn’t happen very often because of it.

District eight through eleven get mainly average scores, there’s a few who stand out more than the others. And then it hits District Twelve.

“District Twelve--” Caesar’s face twists unexpectedly, “--Peeta Mellark, with a score of twelve.”

“What?” you nearly yell, pushing yourself up into a better seating position, “How?”

“That’s--”

“District Twelve, Katniss Everdeen with a score of twelve.”

“That’s impossible.” the blood must have drained from your face, and there’s a faint feeling that overcomes you, “No, no--no!”

No one has ever hit twelve. Twelve is the highest and one is the lowest. People have gotten close to twelve, clearly. You’ve got an eleven and a few others do too, but twelve…

“What did Katniss say to our alliance invitation?” Brutus asks, “Neysa!”

Neysa looks worried too, “Uh--Haymitch told me that she said no, or that she was at least thinking about it.”

You allowed Brutus to send in that request after watching Katniss shoot those arrows, but it was only Brutus that was asking. You weren’t included in it. Had Katniss said yes, she would have been dragged into the alliance altogether, whether you like it or not, you would have had to make friends.

And there’s a very good reason as to why she probably said no. It’s the alliance thing with Finnick, isn’t it?

You pucker your lips, “Neysa I need a moment with you.”

She looks over at you, Caesar Flickerman has long since been forgotten. She nods a little bit, everyone else in the living room looks confused as to why you couldn’t have just said it in front of them too.

You bring Neysa as far as you can manage without making it suspicious. Even then, you’re dropping your voice to a whisper, and turning your back to the living room so Brutus won’t be able to read your lips.

“What is it?”

“Tell the District Four mentors that I want to be allies with Finnick,” you say before you can catch yourself and change your mind, “And I don’t mean for him to join us, I mean for me to join them.”

“Them?” Neysa looks suspicious.

Shit, “Finnick and Mags. What else would I have meant?”

It was a smooth recovery, enough to get her off your back.

“You’d just leave everyone like that?” Neysa doesn’t like this, you can hear it in her tone of voice, “It’s just as much of a dumb idea as running solo is--”

“I just want to see what he says, I don’t have my mind set in stone.” You give her a look, “Neysa, come on.”

“Fine, but you will tell me your plan if it works out like you’re envisioning.”

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you out of the loop.” You tell her.

“Is there anyone else?” she asks.

You think for a moment on who would be dumb enough to accept but smart enough to do it too. A light bulb then goes off, “Peeta Mellark.”

[yamithediaperdork]

Cutest widdle champion part 2

To say the last 24 hours of Umbraby's life had been interesting would be a understatement. Having gone from one of the most handsome and dashing Starlit angel knights in service of his god he was now now basically a toddler and was learning to deal with the enhanced powers his new form gifted him with, as well as the limits and draw backs.

He was stronger then before of course but that came with a lost of reach, His flying skills were vastly improved and he was a aerial ace now but that had come with a lose of speed and balance while on the ground, due to his new stubby legs and well the thick massive diapers his Goddess (Who insisted on being referred as mommy now, a term and arrange he was rapidly warming up to) had made clear he needed.

As a godly force he had never learned to use the potty and in such a small body well, let's just say he had gone though more then a couple of diaper changes. (he wasn't keeping count though Mommy was, but she was nice and didn't bring it up.)

The other Starlit angel's, those that reminded loyal to their diminished goddess had been confused when she had invited them to meet her new champion. Quick beat, the second in command asking if she was allowed to just abduct a helpless little boy from the mortal plain, and asking if Allimir had been made aware of this.

upon finding out the former head of the knights had been given a promotion and was in fact the cute widdle guy being cradled by the goddess and being bottle fed, all worries were addressed and some chuckles rang out among the knights, as well as comments about how adorable and cute the former captain was.

"Congratulations on your promotion friend. You deserve." Quick beat said, smiling widely and while there was hint of teasing in it, the other angel meant it, and even offered to take over feeding his friend.

well fed and a diaper change later, Lulnyq didn't want there to be any doubts that her chosen form for the new champion was a mistake and also wanted to give her cute widdle champ a chance to adept to combat in his adorable new body and so arranged a series of matches between the starlit angels as Umbraby sat in her lap, sucking his thumb with the winners of each match then getting a chance to spar with the former captain.

Umbraby naturally struggled with the first few matches but before long was dominating the fights, even the one against the now captain of the guard quick beat and sharing a hearty handshake with his friend, a awesome moment somewhat marred by the fact that Umbraby had started to soil himself again and cried for mommy.

deemed ready for his mission he was escorted by Mommy and all his 'brothers and sisters' as he saw them now, Clad in his heroic champions grab and playing with his cloak as mommy worked to prepare a portal to take him to the exact location where her three worshipers were waiting.

"i didn't have a temple in the area the tournament is being held, but the three children you'll be meeting know everything about you and were more then willing to host you. they know about your 'needs' and don't mind handling that so make sure your on your best behavior." Mommy was saying, kneeling down and putting her hands on his shoulders and trying to ignore the soft comments about her ample backside coming from the other starlit angels. "Your representing mommy..heck all of us." She added and kissed Umbraby's forehead.

Maybe it was his small size, maybe it was he'd never actually left the realm before, but Umbraby suddenly felt more like Allimir, as in less of a champion and wanted to cry and toss his arms around his goddess, his mommy and beg to stay. to offer up the role of champion to anyone else.

Mommy clearly could see what he was thinking and gave him anther kiss , this time on his cheek. "You'll be ok little champion. I stocked everything you'll need in your cloak, and you can call upon them as needed. in fact the cloak itself can shape change into a soft and warm blankie should you find yourself missing us."

Reach into the cloak herself she pulled out a soft and cute bat stuffie and offered it to her scared widdle champion who hugged it and seemed to draw courage from it.

"There's a book in there about the other god's and their champions, more about the rules, Your weapon Night Blade and of course the most important thing.." And she paused and winked before finishing. "Lots and LOTS of extra diapers." She giggled and tickled his tummy.

Allimir blushed and went to argue, but one does not merely ignore the tickles of a mommy, let alone a goddess.

with some last words of encouragement from his brothers and sisters, and a last second diaper check from mommy, Allimir/Umbraby took a big breath and stepped into the portal, not quite sure what to expect.

Dwere nibbled on her lip, checking a wall clock. The goddess had said to expect the champion half a hour ago and she couldn't be out of bed much longer as it was nearing the nightly bed check.

14 year's old and average size for her age, she had her long brunette hair loose around her shoulders and was in a light black nightgown with it being so late.

She was a priestess in training at the wayward soul's Orphanage and the only worshiper of the night goddess in the city (or for a good 400 miles around at that)

As a priestess she wanted to be there when Allimir arrived and greet him but at the same time while some of the non priests or priestesses in training were given more leeway on night time wandering (it still wasn't smiled upon) it was a very big nay nay.

"I hope he shows up soon, oh gosh, what if he doesn't show up!? Those papers i forged will be left with no child to prove an-" she started to whine and then suddenly the back of her nightie was lifted and her modest white bloomers were suddenly yanked up between her cheeks and Dwere had to clamp her hands over her mouth to keep from shrieking.

"Relax will ya, he'll git here when he git's here!" Giggled the prankster of the gathered gathers, A dirty blond 4 year old who hair was cut short because she loved to play in the dirty and would get tangled with leaves and the like and this just saved time.

Vivi was her name, and unlike the girl ten years her senior she was clad in just layers of faded white cloth diapers, secured with a oversized safety pin.

She was yanked out from under the nightie by the third and final member of the group, who was chuckling softly and trying and failing to scold Vivi.

Dressed in a pair of tight olive green shorts and a faded white top, his hair was in a semi mohawk and was light grey, contrasting with his light grayish skin as a half drow.

"Vivi, I think we've had this talk before, you can't -snk- just go around yanking on peoples undies." Selen scolded, picking her up and cradling the four year old in his strong despite his slim frame arms.

Dwere turned around, fire in her eyes and Vivi say the wisdom in seeking shelter in the arms of the slightly girlish half drow.

"Gosh, I'm Sooooo sorry Dwere." Vivi said, the words and tone making you think she was but the HUGE grin on her face as the oldest of the three (Selen being 7) glared and yanked at her crack.

And wouldn't you know it, with her back to the area where the champion was suppose to show and a hand digging at her wedige, the portal opened and out came Allimir, who paused for a moment, watching Dwere and tilting his head, then rubbed the back of his head.

"Uh.. Is that how you greet people on the mortal plain?" he asked cutely, and started to turn around and grab at his behind.

"NO!"

One misunderstanding explained later, and introductions made, Allimir had lots of other questions for the trio even as he hugged his stuffie and looked around the room.

"ok..First question.what's with all the mini prison beds in the room and that large table over there?" he asked, pointing at cribs and then a changing table.

"heh, never seen a nursery before?" Vivi asked. "It's where diaper butt like you n me sleep! Those are called cribs, and that's a changing table where they can put you while changing yer diapies." Vivi said, then after a second added. "Oh you'll be bunking with me by the way, but don't think you'll ever out do me when it comes to booms!"

"Vivi! we do NOT challenge a champion of our goddess to a boom boom contest!" Dwere hissed, not for the first time wishing there was a minimal age requirement to worship the goddess.

"Though you gotta admit that would be cute to watch.. from a distance." Selen chimed in.

"I'm sure that the champion of the goddess does NOT go boom boom th-" Dwere started and then was cut off.

"Actually I'm open to any and all challenges, and I was told I was a super duper big boomer by mo- I mean my goddess and fellow Starlit angels." Allimir chimed in and smiled.

"..Can we PLEASE try and get off the topic of boom boom diapers?" Dwere asked, face palming.

"ehehehe sorry. Ok, why so many beds when it's just the three of you, and are you two diapered as well?" Allimir asked, thinking this was just the three kid's home.

"Oh sweetie, this is a orphanage. a nice and open one that that offers training in priest and priestess's and offers training for any religion. they keep a big nursery because you can never be sure HOW many babies they'll have in here. Normally most of the kids here are potty trained by 2 or three at the latest bu-" Selen was explaining when Vivi cut him off

"But who wants to give up AWESOME diapies n' being able to just go whenever fer icky undies and having to sit on a smelly potty?" Vivi giggled.

"..what's a potty?" Allimir asked. " I just learned about getting rid of body waste like, 24 hours ago.."

"And now you being in diapers makes sooo much sense." Dwere said, then wrinkled her nose as a smell started to fill the nursery. "Speaking of.. ok which one of you?"

"heh, if it was ME ya would know it." Vivi said and winked, turning around and wiggling her butt and slapping it.

Allimir meanwhile was hiding his face in his plushie and whining softly.

"I'll handle changing him, you better get moving double time Dwere, it's almost bed check." Selen said, nodding at a clock and goiving over to the changing table, then frowning as he looked in the compartment for diapers.

"oh uh.. yeahhh they hafa wash more diapies because I kinda you know.." Vivi said said sheepishly.

"We CAN NOT leave a champion in stinky diapers!" Dwere whined, panicking and getting ready to offer her Nightie for the cause when Allimir chimed in.

"it's s'ok, I got this." he said, setting his Bat plushie down and then reaching into his cloak as the three mortal watched, eyes going big as saucers and he pulled out a spare diaper. "Mommy looks after me!" he beamed happily.

with the with the champion changed and Vivi seeing she had some serious competition in the nursery, the champ and the brat were put in her crib and quickly conked out, Allimir sucking on his thumb and hugging his stuffie while Vivi hugged a silver fox plushie, though instead of sucking on her own thumb she was sucking on Allimir's.

Dwere made it back to her own room just in time and had to explain why she was so out of breath and getting a lecture on proper behavior for young girls, but otherwise was left alone with cheeks burning red.

Selen was spotted in the halls and started to get a semi lecture on wandering the halls before saying he heard some of the little ones crying and wanted to help out and changed the diapers. Thankful to not have to do the dirty deed themselves, the caretakers who'd caught him let him go with a pat on the head and telling him what a good boy he was.

All was calm and good, at least until the next morning.

Vivi couldn't be sure exactly what time it was, having not bothered to learn how to read anything as of yet, but she was woken up by the panicked screams and whimpers of terror of Allimir and sat up in their crib, rubbing a eye and basking in the morning sunlight.

Despite the crib rail still being up, she was alone in the crib, and as she listened, she could make out the cry's of terror from UNDER the crib and pulled herself up, JUST too short to get out of the crib on her own.

"Allimir? Buddy? what's wrong?" She called out, trying to get her face between the bars so she could look down, though the bar's were JUST too close together.

"S-Something awful and strange is happening! it's some sort of energy attack or something!" Allimir Cried out.

"Huh? I don't see anything.." Vivi said, turning her head towards the window.

All she saw was a bright and sunny day out.

"But..but..it's so bright out there!! What's going on!?!" Allimir whined and whimpered, choking back a sob of terror and doing something else, as the smell reached Vivi.

Ironically it was as the funk reached her it clicked what was going on.

"Heh..hehehehehehehe Allimir that's called daylight. didn't you have that back home?" She giggled, thinking of how silly it was. "Daylight can't hurt you..well as long as your not out in it too long." Vivi added, thinking of the time she had played outside all day and gotten wicked sun burn.

The sniffles slowed down and Allimir slowly came into view, coming out from under the bed and locking his tear filled eyes with Vivi's amused ones.

"Y-You promise?" he asked, hovering in the air, making his diaper droop more then it normally would of as he hiccuped and ran a arm across his eyes.

"Swear by the goddess." Vivi said and gave him a warm smile, then added "but you better get your stinky butt back in here, if a caretaker find your hovering that's gonna be all SORTS of questions."

Allimir nodded slowly and floated back into the crib, though he made a grossed out face as he plopped down on his muddy back side, Just in time as the door opened and in came one of the adults.

"Oh great..anther stinker.. as if there weren't enough of them in here." The balding older man said, rolling his eyes.

"heh, G'morning ta you took Kalect!" Vivi giggled, then turned to Allimir. "That's Kalect and he's the one who gets the pleasure of wiping our BUTTS!"

Hearing the utter delight in Vivi's voice and seeing the older human frown, Allimir couldn't help but break into a fit of toddlerish giggles.

One series of diaper changes later and Allimir was trying to get used to the outfit he'd been dressed in, Mortal clothing was just so weird!

his own clothes had been taken away to be washed,save for the cloak which he had turned into a blankie and the caretaker let him keep with him at least.

but bow he was in a pair of grayish white socks, a white diaper shirt and a pair of shortalls over them, and was trying to adjust to the mortal diapers that just didn't feel right on his sensitive booty and had him wiggling like he had ant's in his pants. (he hadn't told to take out extra diapers when he'd gotten his change the night before and a look from Vivi told him that offering one now might not be a good idea)

"How are you not bugged by how rough this material is!?" Allimir whined for the forth time as Vivi in just her diapers (they had given up long ago on trying to dress her for the most part) snugged.

"I never knew anything else. but hey, your a CHAMP right?" She said, putting a arm around him and pulling him in. "You gotta get used to a little discomfort."

"Ngggh.. I suppose that tr.." Allimir trailed off, as his nostrils flared and then he covered his nose and gagged."whats that awful stench!?! I thought a poopie diaper was bad!" he cried out.

"Heh, this is where all the stupid big kids go tinkle and boom boom. it's called a bathroom." Vivi explained then added. "and NOW you see why I just go in mah diapie."

"Really, I thought that's just because you like tormenting other people." Selen said, coming out and smirking, and getting a raspberry blown at him but no denial from Vivi.

"How's my favorite little pamper packers?" he asked, Bending a knee and drawing both of the diaper butts in for a big hug.

"Eh, We're ok..Right Allimir?" Vivi said the asked, she had agreed to keep his little fit to herself to help him save face.

"Uhh yeah! Totally! no crying fits or hiding under the crib here!" Allimir said, blushing and giving a shaky grin, and making Selen raise a eyebrow.

"where's Dwere?" Vivi asked, trying to change the topic.

"oh she got roped into helping make the morning portage to teach her purity or something like that." Selen said and shrugged. "Anyways, ready for your first taste of mortal food little guy?"

"Yeah!" Allimir said, giggling and holding up his arms to be carried.

To be continued

[honeyyvee]

THE WALLS

Rating; Explicit.

Pairing; Yoongi x Reader.

Genre; smut.

Words; 4.2 k

Summary; Tension between you and your hot, next-door neighbor comes to a climax when his antagonizing you is taken too far by bringing pot brownies to your little Church’s Juvenile Choir Valentine’s get-together. 

Content Warnings; innadecuate drug use, explicit sex scenes, degradation, degradation talk, fingering, oral sex, mentions of underage drug use, mentions of religious themes, reference/implied cheating.

Notes; this was inspired by a Chase Atlantic song by the same title... basically pwp with little plot. I may write a sequel to this if people like it uwu enjoyy

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It's a dark kind of feeling that pulls you to him at first. Min Yoongi is just that kind of guy. Black jeans, black leather, pale skin, resting bitch face, and an attitude to go with it. His quiet, brooding nature fools everyone into thinking he's more mysterious than he actually is. But you know the truth, and it's such a much simpler answer. 

The truth is he's a—

"Bitch! Min Yoongi is a little bitch, and I'm going to rip his limbs apart one by one this very instant, just wait," you seethe through your teeth, next to a stunned Park Jimin. There's a weird aftertaste in your mouth, after having had a half piece of one of his horrible brownies. Pot brownies.

You march away from the kitchen counter, ignoring the sweet timbre of Jimin's voice calling your name over the jazz playlist you've specifically curated for the occasion. It's not a long way until you reach the hallway, turning to knock on the first door on the left with contained anger. Oh, Min Yoongi will hear you. The door to the room opens, and you are met with the expanse of his chest.  

"Whatever is wrong with you?" You push into the firm planes of flesh and bone. 

The boy let's himself stumble backwards, into the darkness. 

"You'll have to be specific on that one." Yoongi flashes a set of pearly teeth that gets your blood pumping in your ears. 

"Pot brownies? Really?" you accuse, with a raised eyebrow. 

Yoongi's low chuckle reverberates in your chest. Stirs something dark within. 

In yet another effort to antagonize you, your hot next-door neighbor has spiked the fruit punch and fed pot brownies to the attendees of your little Valentine's Church Choir get-together.

"I don't know what you're talking about." 

Your hand shots out in the darkness to grab for his wrist, but finds his warm palm instead. It remains slack in your hold, so you tug at it, bringing the brunette into the light of the hallway. 

"Explain that." You point at the people sprawled on the living room's couches. 

Yoongi lazily scans the area pointed by your finger. A couple of his younger, fellow choir mates are sprawled on the couch and on the floor. Spaced out, engaged in hushed conversation, staring at the ceiling while laughing to themselves on occasion... leaning against whatever surface is able to hold them steady. The board games are scattered through the floor, in the background someone's playing the latest version of Just dance, terribly uncoordinated. 

It's a shit show. And it's your shit show, because the Valentine's get-together was your idea. Jimin offered his house as the place to do it, and you had accepted. Fully knowing it to be the habitat of an entire Min Yoongi. Shame on you. You should’ve known better. Yoongi’s and Jimin’s parents had coincidentally went out of town at the very last minute, to visit an old friend of the family who had fallen ill. An unchaperoned party, with the presence of Min Yoongi, was the setting for disaster.

"Some are minors, Yoongi" you grit through your teeth. "Their parents will come pick them up at eleven o'clock and what will we do then?" The minority of the choir are of age, like yourself, Jimin, Yoongi and a couple others like yourself who are in their early twenties... but most are, 16-ish, 17-ish, minors. When parents come to pick up their children at 11 o'clock sharp, all they’re going to think is that it was you who set the trap for them to fall prey of sin. When in reality, you’re just a victim of the circumstances. Namely, Min Yoongi. 

Yoongi does not respond, but instead stares. His dark, hooded eyes pin you into place. It registers a little too late, that his thumb's caressing the side of your hand. 

"We?" His hold tightens around yours. 

It's a treacherous feeling, the one that brews in your chest as your heart swells and skips a beat at the contact. It reminds you too much of simpler times, when you were both children and weren't at each other's throats. When Yoongi's way of comforting you would be to hold hands, playing with your fingers.  

You know it shouldn't be that way anymore. Because he's not who he used to be since his mother’s passing, and neither are you since he drifted away from you. He's not someone your strict parents would approve of, as he is now. They want you with someone like his step-brother, Jimin. And that’s just what is going on now, you’ve already gone in a date with the sweet blonde boy. Because you know in your heart of hearts that you deserve, and should be with someone like him. Clean, nice and proper. Not the definition of sin that is Min Yoongi. The bad boy cliché. With his inked skin, leather clothes, bad habits, and underground life.

“Stop.” You yank away your hand, as if burning. The most pressing feeling at the front of your mind should be being mad at him, cussing him out for doing something so wrong and so stupid. Handing out pot brownies at a Christian get-together? 

"I didn’t bring those. It wasn’t me.”

As if you would buy that after years of sick little jokes like whoopee cushions, laxants, and spilled wine. Inexplicably however, the flames of ire have dozed off to tiny, crackling embers. There's a dawning haze that's clouding your mind with each passing second, an unsettling numbness of your nerves. Your eyelids feel heavy over your eyes, it’s almost like you’re looking at him through your eyelashes. Your arms cross over your chest in a nonverbal cue of I’m not buying your bullshit, and Yoongi’s eyes follow the movement. His dark gaze boring like he can see through cloth. 

“One of the guys asked me for a number, and I gave it to him.” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and soon, you realize, you’re too close to each other for comfort. It’s an invisible force of magnetism that draws and repels you two. “Unbelievable as it may seem to you, it wasn’t me. I simply gave them what they wanted, it’s their decision from there. And I'm the bad guy?" 

“They’re 16 and above. They’re children. They don’t know what they want.” You snort.

“And, do you? Do you know what you want?” Yoongi presses forward. You stumble backwards, until your back hits the wall. “Why are you so insistent in looking for reasons to hate me?”

You draw in a sharp breath. “Because you make it so easy. It’s almost like you want me to hate you.”

“But what do you want?” His boots close the distance between your bodies with soft thumps. Nearly drown out the own drumming of your pulse in your ears. 

“Do you want to hate me? Or…” The air gets heavier by the second, as his body presses against you, you feel the tent of his denim pants poking your lower belly. You feel like drowning. Need some fresh air.

“N-no.” You push him off you. Scattering to the opposite side of the hallway, where the door exposes a sliver of the dark insides of what you assume to be Min Yoongi’s lair. There’s something wrong with your arms and legs. Their movement feels sluggish, as so feels your head. The words slip from your lips before you can stop them.

“I never know what I want when it comes to you.” 

Min Yoongi's dark, slender figure stares at you for far too long, mulling your words over in his head, a little too out of it. “Why not find out yourself then?”

Blood rushes to your head so quick your vision spins. Yoongi’s keeping more distance now, but his presence still looms over you. His delicious scent clings around you. It all feels like an out of body experience, when you open your mouth to retort half-heartedly. 

“Don’t misunderstand, Min Yoongi. I do not want to fuck you.” Your voice wavers, but you hold your stance still. “You must think you are hot shit, walking and talking around like a jackass. That I will fall for your act like so many. Well, you’re not who you’ve convinced yourself, and your new little friends, you are. Gloss.”

This is not about the pot brownies, or the stunned boys and girls on the couch anymore. This is a one on one between your lost friend of infancy and you. In the spur of the moment, your mouth makes the executive decision to bring the big guns before your brain has time to process what you're saying. 

“And I’m tired of this…” you wave your hands at the air. “This half-assed, bad boy, womanizer cliché. You think your mother would want this for you?"

Yoongi's deceased mother. Tragically lost in a fire accident Yoongi still blames himself for to this day. You are an asshole.

"Well, maybe I want it," Yoongi deadpans. "Have you ever thought about that?" No, you think, you couldn't ever possibly have. You don't want to. Yoongi's voice's barely above a whisper, but there's a growl to his words as he spits them spitefully. "Maybe I want you to hate me, and for everyone to stay the fuck away, because I'm a fucking mess." 

You trip over your own words in an attempt to placate him."That's not true! You're so much more than what you think of yourself." Your hand instinctively reaches for him in the dim hallway. Yoongi does not take it, neither do you try to actually grasp him. 

"And how would you know?" Yoongi glowers. "You're not even sure about yourself. Playing the good little girl, who follows the rules, stays on line and never does wrong. Always following someone else's orders, wishes and expectations… tell me ____ when was the last time you did something for yourself? Something selfish?" 

You're stunned into silence. Around you, the air buzzes with ballooning tension. it feels as though if you open your mouth, bat an eye, take a single breath… it will all burst in your face. Yoongi snorts at your lack of response, takes your silence as yielding. 

"Right. Don't lecture me about existential questions like you're so above them." Yoongi scoffs. His chest puffs out ever so slightly as he crosses his arms, his posture straightens, resulting in an enticing show of his towering over you. "I’m an artist. That much I know. And you?” He lazily motions with a hand. “Take out choir and your religious devotion and who are you, besides a prideful, self righteous prude?”

Your cheeks swell with hot embarrassment. There's no preparing for the comeback your brain sputters out as a result of your wounded ego and numbed out senses.

“Whether you are a girl or a boy my tongue will make you cum? Please. Those are the words of an artist?" It's probably not your wittiest response. Not the smartest, really. It presents too many, too graphic, questions. And how come you recall those specific lyrics, from that specific song you've listened him practice that one time? The answer, well...

Yoongi shrugs. A contempt smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I take pride in my craft."

Of foucking course he does.

There's not a single coherent thought in mind. Not a single rational one, when Min Yoongi is standing so close before you, wrapped in that forbidden fruit allure. With his soft black hair, leather jacket, intoxicating smell, and stupid, perfectly pouty lips. If your next actions are reckless in nature, you can blame it on the pull that heightens the dark feelings brewing in your chest. The feelings that have always been there, ready to spill. 

"You're too much bark and no bite," you taunt. Fully conscious of where it'll take you. 

"False," Yoongi mouths. 

"Well, fuck it. I'll be the judge of that." 

It's an all over the place situation, or so it feels like, when you pounce on Min Yoongi and lure him into the darkness beyond the open door of the hallway. It's an entanglement of numb limbs and lips. There's several bites on your side. His lips are small but plush, the delicate shape of his mouth too innocent looking to fulfill the promise of its abilities. The taste of him in your mouth has unleashed a ravenous need never felt before. You break the skin to taste all of him. You want it all, the blood, the sweat and tears. 

His beautiful hands are all over your breasts, under your shirt. Petting, feeling, marking. There are rough and callous edges to his fingers, the sensation of them on your skin and his mouth on your pulse is aphrodisiacal. You're too loose with the sounds that leave your mouth, too responsive. The expanse of Yoongi's hands travel your torso until your blouse is off. Skin on skin contact makes you feel like putty in his hold. 

Some way or the other, both of you fall onto the bed intertwined. It knocks the air out of your lungs, but the weight of him over you feels marvelous. Right between your legs, that's where it feels he has always meant to be. 

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this." Yoongi confesses between scattered kisses to your clavicle.

"Yeah, you neither," you gasp. The tips of his fingers are teasing the button of your jeans. Your hands, previously intertwined in Yoongi's soft tendrils of hair, reach between your bodies and pop open the button themselves. 

"Let's see if you really are more bite than bark," you pant. 

Your jeans are swept from your legs in a blink, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. The skin of your thighs prickles with goosebumps at the sudden exposure. Yoongi does not say anything in response to your taunt, but conveys a promise in the dark glint of his feline eyes. The weight of the situation is lost on you, in your heightened state of senses. Through the thickness of the lust and fog enveloping your mind, you are vaguely aware that you are high because of the brownies, but so is Yoongi. You're both on even ground. 

Yoongi's fingertips thread lightly over the inner part of your thighs in tentative up and down motions, coaxing your legs to open further for him. It's a natural response of your body, as is the gushing of your pussy, clenching on itself in anticipation.  Your panties are ruined, soaked through. Yoongi's hands reach higher and higher, until they are at the edge of the flimsy piece of clothing. 

Yoongi hums in contemplation. "So wet already." The pad of his thumbs hook in the lacy edges of your panties, your breath catches in your throat. Yoongi chuckles. "I haven't even properly touched you." 

There's a still moment, charged with pent up anticipation, when one of his fingers finally touches you through the soaked cloth. Yoongi's index and middle fingers run over your labia in a teasing dance. The added friction of the wet material is a welcomed sensation. But he stops short of your clit every time. Purposely so. He's teasing.

Your hips squirm in response, looking for that needed friction in that particular spot. There's a whine that must resemble his name, caught between your teeth and tongue. 

"Let me hear you," he rasps. 

You'll be damned if you do. 

Your expression must give your thoughts away because soon enough Yoongi's changing tactics. Your panties are slipped off your legs to your ankles. Yoongi's transparent hands are prying your legs further apart with scary resolve. He dives into your sex with the most breathtaking gaze of lust you've ever seen. His tongue pokes out to wet his lips, an imminent threat. 

It's starts with an open-mouthed, hot kiss to your lips that has you clenching the sheets beneath your fingers. Yoongi's tongue alternates from there with sucking and licking your sensitive inner folds and swollen clit with varying degrees of intensity. The building ecstasy of his ministrations, courses through your body, from your core to the tips of your toes. It's impossible to restrain the ragged, audible breaths that leave your mouth at the sinful sweeping of Min Yoongi's tongue. You are so close to throwing pride out of the damned window… 

Through your lust fogged mind though, a little sliver of pride shines through, reminding you what your little 'misstep' is all about. You are not about inflating this asshole's ego. Even if he kind of has sensible reasons to think so highly of himself… (not that you would ever admit to that). So you bite your lip and stifle any and all sounds of pleasure. Even if your eyeballs threaten to roll their way back to your skull as his tongue flattens against your clit. In the dark of your mind you swear you actually see stars.

An involuntary groan crawls through your throat. You can feel Yoongi smirking against your sensitive skin. He seems to notice your holding back. The silent, issued challenge. A light chuckle reverbates in the back of his throat. The puff of cool air that leaves his nose as he halts his ministrations, tickles your sensitive core, sends a shiver through your whole body. His fingertips circle patterns over the most sensitive skin of your inner thighs. 

Yoongi is a man of few words, but it doesn't matter, as everything he wants to communicate in this moment he can do through his expression alone. The slight curve of his lips and glint of amusement in his eyes read, Still not admitting defeat?

Your panting, laboured breaths, and contained expression of pleasure easily give you away. But Min Yoongi is a proud little piece of shit; he demands an explicit, spoken admission of your defeat. He sets his mind to accomplish the goal. His tongue circles, teases your hole, before the hot muscle plunges inside you. You're a goner. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your skull shut, with an appreciative groan. Yoongi's fingers trace the inside of your labia with feather-like touches that have your thighs clenching around his face. You're dripping onto the bed by now, and Yoongi's face and hands are covered in your juices. You're close, you're so close you could cry. 

Your hands find purchase on soft tendrils of black hair, and tug. Pride be damned, you pull him closer to your aching core, and whine his name. You need him to touch you, to press on the exposed bundle of nerves that ache for the attention of his fingers. He's stopped moving his tongue inside of you, barely touching you... You're very well about to lose your mind with how much you need to get your release.

Yoongi's dark eyes flick up to you, pierce through yours with heavy intention. He raises an eyebrow in silent prompt, you have to say it. You cave in.

"Please Yoongi, please, just—! Fuck me, fuck me with your tongue, fuck!" You buck your hips, thrashing about, on the border of tears. 

He holds your gaze as he fucks you with his tongue. One hand mindlessly petting your swollen labia and clit, the other one holding your bucking hips into place. Your eyes shut closed with the lewd image of Yoongi burning your mind. You feel your orgasm building up by the intermittent convulsions of your inner walls, reaching the point of no return as Yoongi retreats his tongue from your cunt and sits back to watch you writhe at his lack of attention. One hand strokes your inner thigh, as the other mercilessly rubs your clit until you feel like bursting. Your breath gets caught in your throat. 

"Cum" he rasps, breathless himself. 

And you snap. You cum with a cry that could easily be heard down the hallway. You can't care less about it though, as your body convulses and spams with abandon in pure ecstasy. Your eyes close as you ride the high, spasming around Yoongi's hand. It feels like you're falling and falling into an all consuming void. You let yourself melt into the mattress. He's caressing your cunt, gathering your slick in his fingers. Your hole is leaking with juices that run down your ass into the bed.

Yoongi's staring at you with the darkest eyes you've ever seen. His breathing is ragged, as he brings his hand up to examine his work. The collection of your glistening juices drips from his fingers onto your belly, and you wince. The bulge of his erection straining against his jeans catches your attention, your mouth waters, and your thighs clench. You briefly wonder if Yoongi is going to ask for some kind of retribution from you, which honestly speaking, you wouldn’t mind. Even if you are an inexperienced virgin, you convince yourself, you've watched enough porn through your restless nights to have a vague idea of what to do with that. 

Yoongi's attention drifts back to you, as his hooded eyes pierce through yours. He comes closer, hovering over your body; presents his slick-covered fingers before your face. Your cheeks flush red with embarrassment at the lewd evidence of the events transpired between the two of you. 

"Open up."

It’s embarassing how readily you give in to his demand. His voice, breathless but commanding, makes your insides tremble at the sound. You open your mouth, extending your tongue without complaint for him. It feels like an out of body experience. Like someone else has taken control over your body, and you are just a vessel for pleasure.

"Mmn… I love hearing you," Yoongi purrs. His voice sounds far away. "Maybe next time you can stop being such a prideful prude and let me hear more of you." He smirks, and gives you a wet kiss. You groan into it.

"N-next time?" you stutter. "Aren't you getting way ahead of yourself, Min?" There are actually high chances of a next time happening, but he doesn't need to know that. 

Yoongi shrugs, stupid, smartass smirk in place. His hand moves further down, two fingers slipping inside your cunt. They curl inside you, rubbing at just the perfect spot, producing a choked out whine from the back of your throat. Yoongi's slender fingers mercilessly pump in and out of your slick hole, all the way to the knuckle and out to the tips of his fingers. Yoongi's eyes are fixed on you, your eyelids flutter in an effort to keep your eyes open. This is not a loving fuck, this is a stress-relief, frustration-driven, fuck. And you try very hard to keep that thought at the front of your mind when Yoongi's eyes glint at you with the slightest hint of affection. Your pussy is throbbing with sensitivity, yet you feel so close to orgasm it only riles you up and further. You whine and curse, and buck into his sinful hand with abandon. You need his thumb on your clit, his mouth, anything. 

You're about to voice out your desire when the increasingly loud squelching sounds produced by the pumping of Yoongi's fingers catch your attention. They are embarrassingly lewd and loud to say the least. You briefly wonder if they'll be heard across the thin walls, only for a groan to be ripped out of your throat as Yoongi's hand thrusts hard into your hole. 

"Look at you, so dirty and wet for me." Thrust. "Moaning and whining like a whore." Thrust. 

"No one would guess it from that pretty face" Yoongi smirks ", but you're just another good girl who wants to get the good fucked out of her." Thrust.

There's an incoherent retort slipping from your blabbering tongue before Yoongi's hot mouth envelopes your swollen clit, pinching it for what it's worth, and you burst. Your head falls back with a groan, as your eyes screw shut. Your hands find purchase in Yoongi's locks of wavy black hair, your tighs bucking and thrashing into his lapping mouth. He grips your thighs and caresses the sensitive skin in long, patient motions. Yoongi laps your release with lazy, soft kitten licks. It's still too much to handle for your overstimulated, battered cunt. 

"Stop." You tug at his hair with a whine. 

Yoongi chuckles. "Enough?" There's another meaning, a hidden intention, behind the simple question. It extends a much more complicated, compromising offer. Does this stop now, or do you want more of this in the future? 

You turn away from the intensity of his gaze, only to find yourself face to face with a portrait of Jimin's smiling face. It's a picture of him smiling alongside you, to be precise. The portrait you gifted him for his birthday. It dawns on you. This is Jimin's bedroom. As you come down from your high, you find a mix of guilt and thrill brewing in your chest. Is that what Eve felt when tasting the forbidden fruit? You let Yoongi have oral sex with you in Jimin's bedroom. The guy you are seeing. His step-brother. It should feel revolting.

Surprisingly, though... You like it. You are inebriated with the taste of the prohibited, and do not want to let go. You realize it as you stare back into those dark, all-consuming pools. You can't go back. You don't want to go back. 

You like the darkness inside the walls.

[imagining-supernatural]

The Backstory

Part 15 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: You and Sebastian sit down and you finally tell him about your past

Word Count: 1,757

HGTV was playing in the background, but neither you nor Seb were paying attention. You were curled together in the recliner with a heavy blanket over your legs. He still had a few hours before he had to head out to his interview with Jimmy Fallon, so this was the best time to tell him about your past. Enough time that he could process everything and not be too burdened during his interview, but not enough time that the two of you would drag out every damn detail. There were parts that you wouldn’t tell him, but most of it, you wanted him to know.

You just had to figure out how to start.

“You grew up in Wyoming, right?” He prompted, as if sensing that you were stuck before you had even begun.

“Yeah.” You sighed heavily, shoring up your courage. “It was just me, my sister, and my parents. If I have any cousins or aunts, I don’t know about them. My, uh, my dad was… you know what? I’m just gonna say everything really quick to get it all out there. I think that’ll be easier.”

He nodded, rubbing his hand along your spine. You tucked your head into his neck, hoping that the lack of eye contact would make it even easier.

“Alright. Ever since I can remember, my dad has been an alcoholic. Abusive too, but I didn’t realize until later. He took out most of it on my mom and sister, since she was older. But then, uh, my sister, Eliza, moved out when she turned sixteen and it was just me and my mom.”

“How old were you?” he asked in a pained whisper.

“Eight. She’s eight years older than me. He died when our house caught fire when I was sixteen. Cigarette left burning. His fault.” Your voice broke on the last two words, but you powered through. “Luckily mom was in lockup for the night for drunk and disorderly or something and I was staying with Jaz. That was… it’s fucked up to say, but that was the best day of my life.”

His hand moved up your back and settled on the back of your head, holding you closer. That simple action drew a wave of tears to your eyes that had you blinking quickly, trying to hold them back. God, you didn’t deserve him.

Remembering the truth of that day… you really didn’t deserve him.

“Um, so that left me and my mom. She… She was an alcoholic too, but more of a neglectful alcoholic. Thank god for Jasmin and her family. I don’t know what I would have done without them. They kept me alive and sane until I was old enough to get a job and basically support myself a few months after my dad died. I thought it was over, then. Up until then, my family was just that trash family that other people in town gossiped about to feel better about themselves. I got some pitying looks, and that was it.

“Then my sister went and got arrested. Everyone expected me to take in her two sons when she was convicted and sentenced to life in prison.”

“What did she do?”

A bitter laugh escaped your throat. “Fucking murdered her boyfriend. Abused her kids. Assaulted a police officer. She… she didn’t have a friend like Jaz. Or a support system like Jaz’s family. But that’s still no excuse. None at all. They’re her kids. She knew what it was like to grow up being a punching bag. She…” In an effort to control your budding anger, you took a deep breath and turned your face into Seb’s neck for a second, letting his familiar scent calm you.

“So when she was sentenced to twenty-five to life, the entire town assumed I would adopt the kids. I mean, they were my nephews and all, but everyone was acting like it was my responsibility to raise them. But… But I was barely eighteen. I couldn’t even take care of myself and I didn’t want to put them in a position where I—where I might snap like she did. It wasn’t fair to them. And they were young enough that they were adopted fairly quickly and now they’re with some family down in Georgia growing up with cute little Southern accents. Their parents send me letters sometimes. Pictures too. The boys are happy. And I know I made the right decision, but if you listen to what everyone else said, then you’d start thinking I was a selfish bitch who didn’t respect family values as if they’d all forgotten the kind of values my family taught me. I-I-I know I made the right choice. They’re happy. So fuck what everyone else thought.”

“People make far too many judgments based on far too few facts,” Sebastian whispered against your hair.

“And far too many assumptions,” you mumbled.

He held you in silence for a few minutes, just stroking your hair.

“You know what the worst thing someone said to me was?” You asked a bit later, after your heartbeat had calmed down from its angry beating. “When word got out that I had cancer, someone from my hometown told me that God gave me cancer as punishment for not adopting my nephews. For thinking someone else could raise them better than their own blood. Years later and they still couldn’t let it go.”

Not that they were entirely wrong. Your cancer might have been punishment from God, but not because you didn’t adopt your nephews. There were far worse things you’d done.

“That’s—” He couldn’t even find a word to describe how that made him felt. And you completely understood.

“Rude? Horribly offensive? Fucking ignorant? Welcome to small town Wyoming where the bible rules and if you say you’ve never shot a gun you’ll be shunned until you do.”

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetie, that’s… God that’s horrible.”

“People suck,” you said simply. “I just… I wanted you to know. You know, in case this shit hits the news or whatever. And also… Also, I just wanted you to know. I wanted to tell you. Regardless.”

He slid his hand to your chin and tilted your head up until you were falling into his blue eyes. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank for telling me; trusting me.”

“Thank you for being someone who doesn’t suck,” you responded in a weak effort to lighten the mood.

You only had a second to register his soft smile before he leaned forward and brushed his lips against your cheek. “I always knew you were strong. I mean, to go through cancer treatment like this… but now?” His thumb rubbed against your cheek, nearly touching your lips. Your eyes closed at his touch, face leaning into his palm. “Sweetheart, I think you’re the strongest person I think I’ve ever met.”

Just as you were about to argue his statement, he leaned forward again. This time his lips brushed just at the corner of your mouth and lingered, wiping away every single word you’d ever known. He finally pulled away a hairsbreadth and the air between you two was super-charged. All it would take was a tilt of your head and you’d be kissing him properly.

But you couldn’t do it. You just couldn’t.

After a moment more, he drew back, pausing only to press his lips to your forehead briefly. “So, your sister and mom are still alive?”

“No.” Your voice was surprisingly strong. Barely wavering. “My sister’s still in prison, but my mom died a few months after I turned sixteen. Another reason the town seems to hate me. They think if I’d stuck around more, she wouldn’t have killed herself but that wasn’t my job. I was a kid. It wasn’t my job to keep my parent alive.”

“Killed herself?”

“Drunk herself to death, I guess.” It was an explanation you’d said many times before. One that wasn’t entirely accurate, but the closest to the truth you could get. “Suicide wasn’t the official cause of death, but I knew. She drunk too much. I think she was shooting up with something, too. They called it an accidental overdose. Said if I’d been there, I might have been able to call 911 and save her. But they didn’t know us. They didn’t know what happened in that house. I… I don’t blame her. She didn’t want to be saved. She let him break her. My sister became him.”

“And you? What do you think you did?”

“I think… I think… I don’t know. I made a lot of bad decisions in college, but that’s just college. I think I would have turned out differently if I hadn’t spent so much time with Jaz’s family. But even then… I don’t know, Seb. I just know that I never wanted to make anyone feel like I did. It took me my entire college career with campus therapists to work through shit. And there’s some things I haven’t told anyone. And I’m going to be working through everything for the rest of my life. I know that. I think I just became more aware. Aware what kind of affect my words might have on someone else. I’m cautious about everything. Maybe that’s why I went into data security. I didn’t have anyone, really, to protect me.” By this point you’d practically forgotten you weren’t alone. You were just musing aloud. Putting together parts of your therapy sessions with your own emotions.

It was something you’d never done.

Even in therapy, you hadn’t opened up all the way.

But here? With someone you’d met a month ago?

Here, you felt safe. Loved, even.

“What about Jasmin?”

“She tried. But her family was amazing. She just couldn’t understand my family. She was always sympathetic, but never really knew how to help. And, honestly, I wouldn’t ever want her to know how to help. I never want her to be in the position to understand.”

“I guess I get that.”

“’Sides, this way I had her to pull me out. She pushed me to move on. Helped me figure out how to… not become them.”

Silence, once again, fell. Even telling the barest bones of your past had exhausted you and you couldn’t move from Seb’s lap even if you wanted to.

It was nearly a half hour later when he spoke in a soft voice, his words drawing a soft laugh from you. “At least I don’t have to go through the meet the parents shtick.”

Think that’s all of it? The worst of it? 

CHAPTER 16: THE FIRST PAPARAZZI AMBUSH

[kurowrites]

So, I remembered that I promised to write about sokushinbutsu 即身仏 a little while ago. I’m trying to keep this short, because it gets complicated fast. Also I’m basically writing this all from memory, so don’t blame me for any inaccuracies.

Sokushinbutsu translates approximately to ‘becoming a Buddha in this very body.’ It was a mummification practice, but as the name might already suggest, its primary goal wasn’t the mummification of the body itself: it’s really about proof of enlightenment. Japan is not the only place to have a practice such as this. There exist numerous practices in regions where Buddhism is practiced, although I’m not sure whether these practices developed (at least partially) independently or not. In the case of Japan, there have been suggestions that Chinese Chan Buddhist practices did influence them. However, the center of practice of sokushinbutsu was Dewasanzan, and Dewasanzan technically belongs to the Shingon school, though the so-called Shugendō that they practice is extremely syncretic and a weird mixture of everything from Shintō to Daoism. Zen was only really introduced in Japan in the 12th century as a Buddhist school, by which time Shingon had already been established a few centuries.

Side note: I hate Buddhist schools. My brain starts to hurt if I even think about explaining this mess to the uninitiated.

Be that as it may, in Japan itself, one of the first mentions of a similar occurence was the ‘death’ of the monk Kūkai 空海 (774–835). Now Kūkai was a massive baller and had his fingers in practically every pie, not least of which was being the founder of the aforementioned Shingon school, which also happens to be one of the last remaining lines of esoteric Buddhism. Don’t ask me what that means, I WILL cry. To do so, he went to China and brought a ton of very smart texts back. And wrote a ton of very smart texts himself. In any time, when the time came for him to die, he was like, ‘wow, not for me, thx.’ He reportedly stopped eating and drinking and meditated in a cave on Mount Koya. According to legend, he never died, but entered a deep meditation and still remains in that cave to this day, awaiting the arrival of the future Buddha Maitreya (which is... going to take a while). 

This story seems to have been quite popular, because it frequently appears in Buddhist-themed literature in the following centuries. During that same time, there are historical records of a number of monks and noblemen who either became mummies didn’t immediately start to decompose after death. Also, several cases of self-immolation, which, yikes. In any case, we have an established pattern here of people who had accumulated religious merit during their lifetime whose body did not decompose after death. You wanna thumb your nose at your archrival? You better make sure your body remains sweet-smelling and lovely after your death. Something something dying well is the best form of revenge, perhaps?

The sokushinbutsu themselves only appear much later, namely mainly during the Edo period (1603-1868). As mentioned, most of the practitioners were from Dewasanzan. The sokushinbutsu that still exist today can primarily be found in Niigata and the Tohoku region, which might suggest that local customs also had an influence, since Tohoku has always been culturally different from Kansai or Kanto. There is one known sokushinbutsu in Kyoto, though, I went to the cave where he’s still supposed to be entombed.

Now I can’t currently find my list of sokushinbutsu, but we actually know their names (well, their titles) and when they lived in nearly all cases. I think it goes without saying that they were all male. None of them was below the age of 40 when they died, and some where like in their 80s or 90s, so they were old old. That generally has to do with the fact that they were expected to complete a really hardcore ascetic practice that took years. This was not very comfortable for the practicioners, but apparently a pretty good income for Dewasanzan, since donations tended to flow for whenever ascetic practices took place (and, I think, some of them basically did their ascetic work on comission. I have to dig up my papers though.)

Generally, it seems like many of the practicioners were former criminals or came from a very poor or otherwise misfortunate background, though I have to double-check that too. In general, however, though there were many different kinds of laypeople, monks and practitioners at Dewasanzan, only an extremely small number ever completed the ascetic practices necessary to be able to ‘ascend’ into this group of people.

Those who aimed to become sokushinbutsu generallly practiced mokujiki, which means they were only allowed a very limited variety of food, things like berries or seeds, though definitely no cereals or rice, and we don’t even need to talk about meat. They also seem to have consumed foods that contain resin, because resin... is an excellent preservator. The exact procedure seems to have differed in every case, but it wasn’t easy, and they did it all while basically living in a tiny hut in the mountains, while adhering to strict religious rules. After this training was completed, many of them became travelling monks for a while, because they were reputed to have gained miraculous powers through their practice and I guess people in the past were wild for that kind of stuff. And again, donations.

Before the final act of becoming sokunshinbutsu, they stopped eating entirely. Like Kūkai, they continued with meditation practices, and some of them let themselves entomb in a cave, while others were buried alive. They died during this practice, presumably while achieving enlightenment(?).

Then they were left in their tombs for a while, before the tombs were reopened. Some of them were smoked like a ham, and their bodies put back into the tomb and left there for a little longer. It’s not like they had no outside help to achieve their goals, if we’re entirely honest. Eventually, they were usually taken out, dressed in nice robes, and placed on an altar in a temple, to be used as an icon for worship. Some of them still remain in temples until this day. (Sometimes you were only allowed to see them when you paid a fee, though. I really need to dig out my papers, there are some interesting stories.)

The practice was eventually banned in 1879, but I know there are one or two cases that happened even after that - in secret, of course.

“10/10, would practice the hell out of it again.”

[droneseco]

Elecrow Crowbits: The Ultimate LEGO-Compatible STEM Learning System That Grows With Your Child

Elecrow Crowbits

9.00 / 10

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Brick builds, combined with magnetic electronics blocks, and programmable micro-controllers. Does it get any better than this? I think my long search for the perfect STEM learning kit is complete. If you have young children just coming up to the right age for it, the Crowbits system can accompany them throughout their primary education and beyond.

Key Features

Magnetic blocks build circuits

Kits to suit various levels

Specifications

Brand: Elecrow

Development Platform: Scratch and MicroPython

Pros

LEGO-compatible to customize your builds

Full range of components planned

Level up with your child with more complex projects and programmable microcontroller

Familiar Scratch-based programming software

Cons

It's a Kickstarter

Instructions need work expanding on the principles and explanations

Buy This Product

Elecrow Crowbits other

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Take a moment to imagine the perfect electronics and engineering learning kit. It would be so simple even a child could use it: magnetic blocks, perhaps? Modular, so you could swap bits in and out to modify projects. It would scale up, so you could start with simple circuits and move on to programmable hardware, catering to all levels of the curriculum. Lastly, I'd throw in LEGO-compatible, because LEGO bricks are the best tool for creativity and engineering ever made.

That's exactly everything the Elecrow Crowbits system is, and it's crowdfunding now.

Disclaimer: This is a Kickstarter

Four of the five available Crowbits kits were sent to us for evaluation during the Kickstarter, however, they are still very much in the prototype stage, and we've evaluated them on that basis. Some bits were missing, some were non-functional, and the software is still a work-in-progress. This is to be expected at this stage, but the core system is solid.

Also, the usual Kickstarter caveat applies: your money is at risk, and there's no legal obligation with any crowdfunding campaign to actually deliver a product. That said, this isn't Elecrow's first campaign (the CrowPi 1 and CrowPi 2 were a huge success). It's a well-established company with a reputation to maintain and a good track record, so we think the risk is minimal.

What Are Crowbits?

Crowbits modules are magnetic electronics blocks with LEGO-compatible pin holes on the side and stud holes underneath. The 4-pin pogo connections are either male or female, and have a small protrusion on the bottom to prevent wiring them the wrong way around.

Extension cables enable you to place a module elsewhere, and these too feature the same magnetic connection and can't be plugged in the wrong way. The whole system operates on a safe, low voltage, and with rechargeable battery blocks that charge over micro-USB.

Each Microbits module is color-coded for ease of understanding:

Blue modules are power and logic. In the basic sets, these are simple battery modules that don't require programming. In more advanced sets, these are programmable microcontrollers with pin numbers on the connections for addressing modules directly.

Yellow modules are inputs: buttons, basics sensors and such.

Green modules are outputs: LEDs, motors, buzzers, relays.

Orange modules are special and require serial communication lines to the programmable hub. These include things like color sensors, joysticks, or 2G communications hub.

A large range of Crowbits modules are planned, though these will be available separately at a later date. For now, you can only purchase the full Crowbits kits with their included module selections.

No Programming Required!

Since the first two Crowbit kits require no programming, how does that work? Simple, as long as you follow some basic rules:

Yellow input modules must be placed on the left of green output modules (when viewed with the module name being on the top, and symbol in the bottom right).

One input module can control a chain of output modules.

A new input-output chain will be created if you add another input module to the right.

Blue battery modules can go anywhere in the circuit, and their orientation doesn't matter as long as the pins are compatible.

With this, kids can create basic circuits. For more complex circuits (that still don't need programming), a series of bitwise logic operator modules are planned. A "NOT" logic gate is included in the Hello kit, and more will be available later.

This enables you to reverse an input, such that a button that would normally turn on an LED, would now function as a button to turn the LED off.

Crowbits Kits

The Crowbits Kits are divided into five stages of increasing complexity, but all share a common system and are compatible with each other. Some modules are duplicated between kits. Let's take a look at the contents and direction of each kit.

Hello Kit

The most basic of kits is also the cheapest, available for $30. It includes seven modules, one of which is a small battery module. Five project builds are included along with pre-cut cardboard parts to stick together. No programming is required, and the Hello kit is suitable for ages 5-6.

Explorer Kit

The Explorer Kit continues the no-programming theme, but adds movement through the use of a motor module and pack of technic pieces for some basic engineering. A total of eight modules are included, one of which is a medium-sized battery pack. The build guide contains a mix of brick-based and cardboard projects. With a little adult supervision on the trickier mechanical elements, 7-8-year-olds should be able to handle this kit. The Kickstarter price is $80, rising to $130 RRP.

Inventor Kit

The Inventor Kit is a big step up that introduces programming concepts and more complex mechanical engineering. The main module of this kit requires a BBC Micro:bit (v1) to function. This is not included, though it may be available as an add-on if you don't already own one.

For those not familiar, the BBC Micro:bit is an all-in-one programmable microcontroller specifically designed for use in the school curriculum. It's widely used in UK schools, and gaining ground in the US.

Related: 10 Beginner Projects for the BBC Micro:bit 

Ten modules are included as well as a large pack of technic bricks, suitable for building projects such as an obstacle avoidance car or color-sorting robot.

Given the use of BBC Micro:bit and Scratch programming in schools from around age 8, this kit would be suitable for 8-12 year-olds. It's available during the Kickstarter for $90, RRP $130.

Creator Kit

This was not yet ready for review at the time of writing, but the core of the Creator kit is an Arduino-based board, and includes 11 modules more suited to smart home projects and more complex interaction programming, along with a small selection of technic blocks. There are no movement motors. The Creator kit is available for $100 now, or RRP $150 later.

Master Kit

The most advanced kit in the range, the Master Kit uses an ESP32-based board at its core, featuring a TFT color screen. Also in the kit are some joystick modules, a small keyboard, laser ranging sensor, and 2G connection.

The Master Kit has a small number of technic bricks, and as well two silicone cases for a working phone, and a retro game console. It's designed to show the modules coming together to create a finished product. However, programming the firmware is quite complex, so I'd rate this kit as suitable for 14 and up. The early pricing is $100 for the Master kit, rising to $150 RRP.

LEGO-Compatible, not Actual LEGO

I should note that the Crowbits kits are not an officially endorsed nor licensed LEGO group product, and do not contain actual LEGO bricks. Instead, the LEGO-compatible technical bricks carry the brand name "CaDA", which I've not come across before.

That said, the bricks are well made and connect simply and securely, which is always a worry with off-brand construction bricks. For context, you can buy a set of at least 500 CaDA technic bricks on AliExpress for under $30.

You can of course decorate the builds with your own real LEGO, should you wish.

As a nerdy side-note, be warned that the instruction for the brick builds are read left-to-right, rather than top-to-bottom. If you're a LEGO family, this is mildly infuriating and means your child might skip steps!

Programming with LetsCode

Programming your Crowbits kits is done using Elecrow's new LetsCode (currently only for Windows, but support is promised for Mac OS and Raspberry Pi later).

LetsCode is a customized version of Microsoft MakeCode, which is itself based on the graphical block programming language, Scratch 3.0. As such, it'll be immediately familiar to anyone with experience of Scratch programming. It's widely used for introductory programming classes all over the world, and includes graphics blocks for all common concepts like loops, branching, and functions.

Pin numbers are printed directly on the blue modules, so it's easy to see which component is attached where.

If you outgrow graphical programming, you will also be able to program in MicroPython or Java, though this was not supported at the time of testing.

Should You Back the Elecrow Crowbits?

The Crowbits magnetic circuit system is easy to use and scales well for different ages and user levels. You can start with simple circuits, and move on to programmable logic controllers, and still reuse all the bits. It's a system that will grow with your child throughout their learning journey from age 6 to 14. Very few educational toys can make that sort of claim.

If you want your child to have a competitive edge in the programming, electronics, and engineering aspect of the STEM curriculum, then supplementing schoolwork is a great idea.

Even though many schools have now returned, it's possible you've opted to fully homeschool or just want to supplement their existing classwork. Over the next few years, schools will inevitably be different. There'll be a lot less practical work going on because of the aspect of touching shared equipment, so having this sort of kit available at home with software that's familiar will be of great benefit.

That said, the Crowbits kits vary greatly. If you're a completionist, you can grab a bargain bundle during the Kickstarter of every Crowbits kit available, for a cool $400 (rising to $600 RRP after the campaign).

But I think the best value comes from the Explorer, Inventor, and Master Kit bundle for $270. This includes a ton of mechanical bricks and plenty of movement modules. The BBC Micro:bit compatibility ties in perfectly to the existing curriculum (in the UK, anyway), while the ESP32 board is a good step up once they're old enough.

If you're only going to purchase one kit, I'd recommend skipping the Hello kit and going straight to Explorer or Inventor, depending on whether you want programming introduced yet. The cardboard projects in the Hello kit just felt a little too contrived and didn't engage my 6-year-old son in the same way LEGO does.

While the mechanical elements of the Explorer kit may need a little adult supervision, he was quite capable of the bulk of construction and able to use the LetsCode software thanks to previous experience with Scratch.

On the other end of the scale, I wasn't overly impressed with the Master kit either. The game console project, while it produces a cool end product, consists of simply the main board and two joystick modules on the side.

There is no construction, and the hardest part is loading on firmware, which tedious at best. The phone project is also impressive but limited to a 2G network, many of which will be disabled by the time the Crowbit kits ship.  The ESP32 mainboard is technically impressive, but once your teenage child is ready to program this thing, the magnetic block system may not be appropriate anymore. It's a good addition to your collection if you're purchasing the earlier sets too, but I wouldn't purchase it alone.

Overall though, I think my long search for the perfect STEM learning kit is complete. If you have young children just coming up to the right age for it, the Crowbits system can accompany them throughout their primary education and beyond. And when they're done with it in a decade, we'll probably all be learning in VR anyway.

Alternatives to Crowbits

Crowbits isn't the only STEM kit around. The closest competitor is the littleBits STEAM kit, which retails at around $400, doesn't include any technic bricks, and has a limited selection of magnetic modules. It's more closely aligned to the US curriculum though with more extensive teaching materials, and already in use in many schools.

The LEGO groups' own Robot Inventor MindStorms kit is also worth considering, retailing at $350. It's focused more on robotics than basic electronics, and isn't suited to younger children, but the software is also based on Scratch. It would make a great step once your child reaches 14, and has outgrown the magnetic Crowbits system.

  Elecrow Crowbits: The Ultimate LEGO-Compatible STEM Learning System That Grows With Your Child published first on http://droneseco.tumblr.com/

[chilling-seavey]

Amoureux (c.s./d.s.) - Chapter Four

A/N Daniel is such a different type of character in this book then my other ones and I’m kind of living for it 

The next morning at breakfast, Louisa met the youngest of the British Royal Family; twelve-year-old Anna. She had a mysterious aura to her that Louisa couldn’t quite place, a smile that much resembled Louisa’s own younger sibling when it came to getting what he wanted. It seemed Anna was no different. Even still, she was still a polite young girl and carried herself well for being so young.

The seating arrangements were explained that same morning, a strict rule that Louisa didn’t quite understand but it was expected in the British Royal Family apparently. She would sit across from Christian at every meal, not beside him, with the King on her left and Daniel on her right. Apparently being seating across from your spouse or partner was expected. It was a strange order but it wasn’t Louisa’s to critique so she followed silently, sharing Daniel’s polite smile as she sat beside him at breakfast.

Conversation progressed smoothly, complimenting the couple on their impressive dancing from the night before, how they seemed so perfect together. Christian’s grin didn’t go unnoticed by Louisa who easily returned it through a bite of her breakfast.

“Of course, the gala would have gone much smoother without someone sneaking in to take away some desserts.” The Queen directed at her middle child.

“No fair! Daniel got to see the gala?” Anna whined, looking between her mother and her brother who was across the table.

“He was supposed to be in his room like you were.” The Queen told her daughter. “Important galas, such as this one, was no place for children.”

“I’m not a child, Mother.” Daniel frowned. 

“Until you are of age like your brother, you are a child.” The King said.

“Louisa is my same age and she was able to attend.” Daniel retorted.

“Louisa is the one getting married. She is of age for a woman. When you get married, you will have your own gala.” The King said sternly, “Now please stop arguing with us, Daniel. You are making yourself look more like a child.”

Daniel scoffed with annoyance under his breath and Louisa caught his eyeroll as he took a bit of his breakfast, making her smirk to herself.

When breakfast was finished, Christian and Louisa headed out for a walk around the palace grounds to get to know each other better and so Louisa could familiarize herself with the area. It was a sunny day so Louisa had her lace parasol resting on her shoulder to shade her from the sun, her other arm tucked around Christian’s.

On their slow-paced journey around the palace grounds, they shared a few basic pieces of information about themselves and Louisa learned that Christian had turned twenty in March and was the heir to the throne only because their family’s first born son had died from typhus as a toddler only three months before Christian was born. He was born into his own destiny to mourning parents. Even still, he was more than thrilled to be able to call himself the future King of England and yet he was most humble about it.

Soon the conversation continued, and Louisa shared some of her favourite pastimes, how she liked to dance.

“Dancing is a sort of gateway to the soul.” she said, “You can tell a lot about someone by the way they dance.”

“So, you must be no less than absolute perfection.” Christian said casually.

“What a charmer.” Louisa blushed.

“I don’t mind dancing, however I am more of a reader myself.”

“A reader?”

“Yes. Literature and poetry mostly. I have a whole section of our library where I can display and store my collections.”

“That sounds peaceful.”

“Truly. Sometimes I come out to the garden to read by the pond.”

“You must take me to your secret spots one day.”

“Of course, I will.” Christian smiled over at her. “We have all the time in the world.”

Louisa slowed to a stop, keeping her arm in his to get him to stop beside her and she leaned up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. Christian bit back a grin, his dimples appearing as he started to lean in towards her. They were mere centimetres apart before something bounced off Christian’s head.

He stood back quickly, brushing whatever it was out of his hair and looked around, “What the-”

“You were getting a little close there, don’t you think, brother?”

Louisa and Christian looked above them to find Daniel perched on a branch of the large tree they were standing under. His legs swung playfully over the side and he smiled innocently at them. Louisa giggled lightly.

“Daniel, what are you doing?” Christian asked sharply.

“Amusing myself.” Daniel dropped another acorn on his older brother’s head.

“Stop that!” Christian snapped. “It would be greatly appreciated if you went back inside and minded your own business.”

“What would be fun about sitting inside on such a nice day?” Daniel jumped down from the tree, landing heavily on the grass between them. “And, instead, spending time with my favourite brother and the French Princess?”

He sent a small smile towards Louisa and she returned it, twirling her parasol over her shoulder as she looked between Christian’s annoyed scowl and Daniel’s innocent grin.

“Daniel, I swear, if you don’t go inside right now I will-”

“You will do what exactly, Christian?” Daniel asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Christian glanced from his brother over to Louisa’s straight-faced expression, waiting to hear what he was going to say for herself as well. He didn’t want to look like a bossy older brother in front of this young woman he was so easily falling for so he simply sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger before throwing his hands up.

“Fine. You can join us.”

“Splendid!” Daniel beamed, situating himself between the couple and linked his arms through both of theirs. “What are we discussing this fine morning?”

“How annoying you are.” Christian muttered to himself.

“Literature.” Louisa corrected lightly.

“Ah, oui, my brother’s terribly bland pastime.” Daniel sighed.

“There is nothing bland about being educated.” Christian retorted. “Although that is something you do not know about.”

“On the contrary, dear brother.” Daniel said dramatically, pulling both Louisa and Christian close to him by the arms that were still linked with his. “Music builds both knowledge and creativity. Something you know nearly nothing about.”

“I do indeed.” Christian retorted.

“No, no. You can’t even carry a note yet alone play any instrument put in your hands. The only instrument you play is the book and that is completely and utterly lame.” Daniel declared.

“I think books are marvelous.” Louisa spoke up.

Daniel stopped suddenly, making the two of them stop as well, his arms still linked with theirs, and he looked at her, “I must say, that is terribly disappointing.”

“I am awfully regretful that you are disappointed.” Louisa chuckled at Daniel’s wink.

“Good thing she’s not marrying you.” Christian grumbled, smacking his brother upside the head.

“That is terribly rude of you!” Daniel gaped, pressing a hand to the back of his head as if he had been shot as he turned quickly to face his brother. “I could have fallen and seriously injured myself.”

“Oh, Lord in Heaven, Daniel.” Christian rolled his eyes, quickly swiping his spot beside Louisa again and the couple started to walk past him. “Save your dramatics for your childish plays with Anna.”

“I thought you liked plays and poetry, Mister Keats?” Daniel argued teasingly.

“I like the silence much better.” Christian called over his shoulder as he and Louisa walked away from him. Louisa laughed into her gloved hand as Daniel’s dramatic monologue could be heard his whole way back towards the palace.

[anexplanationofunfortunateevents]

the voting ends today but the fight almost certainly does not

Republicans are filing increasingly desperate and ridiculous lawsuits trying – emphasis on TRYING – to have votes thrown out because they’re big old losers who know they can’t win legitimately.

If you’re the kind of person who can get into the weeds of federal court filings on elections, you probably already have your hair on fire. If you’re not, I don’t recommend picking up the habit right now. It’s just going to make your head swim. These are so incoherent and meritless that even our corrupt federal judiciary and plenty of conservative state judges have frequently brushed them off. I get the sense that Trump’s lawyers are more hoping to win those cases than trying to win them. What they seem to be trying to do with these lawsuits is some mix of the following dishonest things:

depress turnout by making people feel like he can just have their votes thrown out so why bother;

set something, anything, up on track for the Supreme Court, which Trumpworld is (not unreasonably) confident they have sufficiently corrupted;

create a general sense that there’s some authority other than the voters who get to decide this election.

That is what makes me think Trump’s plan to barricade himself in the White House and tweet out a declaration of victory the first moment Fox News reports a good exit poll for him is only mostly about his pathetic need to self-soothe with an autocratic display. He’s also making one last go-for-broke play for the public narrative. He thinks – again, not unreasonably – that if he says he won, then he’ll get a bunch of “Trump Declares Victory” headlines and chyrons, which puts a thumb on the scale in terms of how people frame any resulting developments in their own minds. It’s not a good strategy, it’s more of a hail Mary, but it’s the only potentially helpful option he’s left for himself.

All of this has, once again, summoned the specter of the 2000 election.

We can’t look one day into the future. But we might be able to prepare ourselves for it if we look about twenty years into the past.

There’s kind of a fable that’s built up around the 2000 Florida recount that Republicans were just tougher and savvier and wanted it more, while Democrats clumsily Ned Starked everything up. It’s important to reject that premise as fundamentally abhorrent. In a functioning democracy, campaign strategy is irrelevant after Election Day, because voters are in charge. The Gore campaign, to its credit, was buying into the basic premise of democracy, and had therefore planned their campaign around trying to win an election fair and square. When you punish or condemn people for that, you are ceding ground to the fascists and agreeing to fight on their terms.

The Bush campaign was just fundamentally not operating from the premise of democracy, but from the premise that elections are merely a weak opening bid from the electorate. Before anyone even knew there would be a recount, they had already gamed out a scenario where they could win even if they lost. The contingency they’d planned for, that struck them as most likely, was actually that Gore would win the Electoral College but Bush would win the popular vote. They planned out a whole pressure campaign to create enough of an uproar to give some friendly Republican state legislatures somewhere just enough of an excuse to award electors to Bush even if their constituents had voted for Gore. That wasn’t the scenario they ended up facing, of course. But when you do those kind of war games, you have to think about what your opponent would do, which means the Bush team was ready to hit the ground running with a whole bunch of things they had been expecting Gore’s campaign to do. The core point of whatever they were going to do was always to create an excuse for the nuclear option of having Republican state legislators send Republican electors to install George W. Bush no matter what their voters wanted.

One major difference between then and now is that generation of Republicans knew what they were doing was abnormal and wrong, so they kept it under wraps. Now they’re so high on their own supply that they brag about it to The Atlantic, because they genuinely don’t realize that people will object and try to stop them if they give up the element of surprise.

In 2000, the nuclear option of state legislatures just ignoring their voters to install Bush was not something the Gore campaign could have reasonably foreseen, and even if they did have an in-house psychic to warn them about it, it’s not something they could have realistically stopped except by winning with the biggest margin possible, which they were already trying to do. In 2020, Republicans are basically trying to run the same play, but against Democrats who very much are as prepared as they could possibly be, and by “Democrats,” I mean Democrats at every level. Inside the campaign, Biden campaign senior adviser Ron Klain ran Gore’s recount effort in Florida, and is therefore the last person to have any illusions about the opposition. Their lawyers are fucking beasts. Outside the campaign, Democratic voters have already voted, dragged their friends out to vote, and are amped for whatever fight tomorrow brings.

And, unlike 2000, any formal government processes are going to have to go through House Speaker Nancy D’Alessandro Pelosi, and honey, she is not having it. Remember, Pelosi has already thwarted not one but two Trump regime connivances to steal elections. In 2018, she successfully deterred any attempt to undermine Democrats’ midterm victory. And with her crisp, digestible, precision strike impeachment strategy, she neutered the HUNTERGAZI plot that Trump had every intention of using to sabotage the election this year. (God only knows what other schemes she headed off by making an example out of the pressure campaign against Zelensky. Any foreign leader or official who might have been tempted to cave under similar pressure by Trump got put on notice that trying to appease him quietly was not going to make their lives any less complicated.) No wonder she felt emboldened to tell the Trumpist wing of the Supreme Court to sit their asses down if they know what’s good for them.

What Democrats – and other small-d democrats and progressives – can do, we’re doing. You need to take heart from that, and brace yourself for a couple of stressful weeks.

Unfortunately, we can’t control everything. We can’t control what Trump will do to seize the narrative, and we can’t do much about how the press responds. And again, I’d point back to 2000 as a cautionary tale. Did you know that most of the networks actually called the race right, and they did it pretty fast? It’s true! Early-ish that night, they called Florida for Gore. And, as a subsequent investigation showed, Gore got more votes in Florida! But the ballot count was tighter than it should have been – a lot of registered voters who were likely to have preferred Gore were kicked off the rolls in a racist purge – so they did a reasonable thing and retracted the initial analysis to say the state was too close to call.

I did say most of the networks. I’ll give you one guess which was the outlier. John Ellis – head of the decision desk (ie, the decision of when to call a race for one candidate or the other) at Fox News and first cousin of candidate George Bush and Florida Governor Jeb Bush – somehow knew something about the Florida vote count that the Associated Press didn’t. Late that night, as Gore’s numbers were actually ticking up, Ellis called Florida for Bush. (I might’ve been more circumspect making those implications five years ago, but these people have forcefully rejected the benefit of the doubt.) The other networks, embarrassed by the earlier retraction and exhausted after a long night, leapt after Ellis like lemmings in five minutes flat.

This created a narrative that seamlessly dovetailed with the Bush campaign’s evolving strategy: a Bush win was a fait accompli, so why was sore loser Gore insisting on this recount, wasn’t it taking way too long? Of course, the truth was that nobody actually wins an election before the votes are counted, so if Bush really wanted to get this over with, why was he so resistant to having so many votes counted even once?

Because, of course, while Bush’s top campaign people were out in front of the press loftily insisting that this recount was an irrelevant waste of the country’s time and attention, Republican lawyers were down in Florida doing everything they could to run out the clock. Deadline after deadline loomed and then passed with a bunch of Federalist Society hacks badgering and haggling over every single ballot. Said Federalist Society hacks included John Roberts, Brett Kavanaugh, and Amy Coney Barrett.

So legal correspondents and voting rights advocates, unfortunately, aren’t crazy to have their hair on fire about the Supreme Court once again doing what happened next in 2000: the court ordered all the counts to stop until arguments that it scheduled for the day before an arbitrary deadline. Then they handed down a decision that even they knew was so incoherent and indefensible that they said it wasn’t supposed to be used as precedent in any other case, even though the Supreme Court’s job for over two hundred years had been to hand down rulings that lower courts could use as precedent.

(Seriously. Guys. If Doc Brown ever tosses you the keys to his DeLorean, your mission is to go back to 1999 and run Chief Justice Rehnquist over with it. Then – and this is important – back up and run over him again. Twice. Then you can go buy stock in Google or feed Trump to zombie vampire bats or hit up a Borders or whatever.)

If you’re not really familiar with this story, you’re saying “wait, what? Why did people stand for this bullshit?” FAIR QUESTION. There are a lot of reasons, though no excuses. One reason that’s been previously underrated, I guess, is that Bush hadn’t spent the week before the election running around telling everyone who would listen that “what we’re gonna do is, we’re gonna make ourselves a huge pain in the ass while people are trying to count votes, and then we’re gonna whine about, ‘why is it taking so long to count all these votes?’ Heh heh heh.”

If he had … well, I’m pretty sure at least 538 Floridians would have been alarmed enough to make a better choice than they ultimately did.

I always want to be able to share an action item. This time, I can’t. (Unless you can vote but haven’t yet, in which case, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING ON TUMBLR, GET YOUR ASS IN LINE AND STAY THERE.) I don’t know what the world is going to look like six hours from now. It’s entirely possible that there’s a Biden blowout big enough that Trump just gives up and flees the country. But assume we’re not going to get to take the easy way out of this. Get organized and stay fired up. WE RIDE AT DAWN, unless Florida and/or Texas breaks our way by 10:30, in which case, WE DRINK AT 10:31.

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

The Warriors of Hope: Reassembled!

...

...?

...

*Komaru lies back down in a hospital bed. She barely has the strength to turn her head to look around.

...

Hm?

Oh! Ms Naegi! You’re awake!

...?

Can you hear me? It’s me, Mikan Tsumiki. Now, if you can hear me, please listen.

You’re at the Hospital Wing of Hope’s Peak Academy. After what happened, we managed to get you out of the city and to here, as far away from Towa Group as possible.

...To.....wa.....?

Your brother and a few others are in the waiting room for you. I’ll go get them.

I-I won’t let them all in at once though. I’ll do it in groups. It may get a bit much if I don’t.

*Mikan leaves for the waiting room.

...

*In the time that she’s gone, Komaru lifts up the covers of her bed and stares down. She sees an empty space blocked off by bandages where her leg used to be.

...

*SLAM!*

KOMARU!!

Wait, don’t shout!

*Makoto rushes up to Komaru in her bed. He stands there, waving his hands around, unsure of what to do. Eventually, he pulls his sister into a tight hug!

I-I’m so sorry Komaru! I’m sorry...! I...

*He breaks down into tears.

...

Makoto...Give her some room to breathe...

...

Yeah...

*Makoto pulls away from Komaru. The other people in the room with him are Kyoko, Toko and Mukuro.

...

...Don’t...

Huh?

*Komaru’s voice is raspy and quiet. She basically lost it after screaming the previous night.

Don’t...apologize...This...

TH......is.....is all.....m....y.....fa....ult...

Komaru, don’t say that! That’s not true.

It....is....I should...have....list...ened...to...to.....ko....

...

Mikan. What’s her status?

Well, there’s good news and bad news...

The good news is that she’ll definitely make a full recovery in time, and most of the scars inflicted on her may heal over time.

The bad news is that...well...her leg obviously won’t grow back...

...

...

...

...

And, while the physical damage is harrowing...

I-I’m more worried about her mental state...

Her mental state? What do you mean?

D-Don’t tell me she’s developing some form of PTSD...!?

What...!?

...

U-Unfortunately...i-if she doesn’t receive help soon...th-that may happen...

God dammit...

God DAMMIIIT!

...

I brought you all some tea. It’s hot so remember to leave it for a bit.

Thank you Ms Tojo.

Yeah. Thanks...

...

A-And you...?

...

Yeah, thanks for this. It’s good.

...You’re...You’re welcome...

*Kirumi awkwardly leaves the room.

I’ve been meaning to ask...um...Hoshi? You two seem to know each other...

Is she like your ex-girlfriend or something?

Heh, no, nothing like that...but we are old acquaintances.

Honestly, I’d love to strike up a conversation with her about the old days...but things aren’t exactly the best right now...

Why are you even here?

S-Sorry, that sounded rude, I didn’t-!

Nah, I know what you meant.

...I guess I just feel responsible for this...

How so?

I’m the one who told Komaru about the trafficking...eventually it led to this.

In part...I’m to blame for what happened to her.

Hoshi...

And you think being gloomy will help her in some way? Or are you just always like this?

...

...

...

...

Jeez, one could cut the tension in this room with a knife...

As if you didn’t expect this...

Meh...

...Say...Short dude?

Yeah?

Could you do me a favor?

I want to have a private discussion with my old friends...Could you...?

Got it...

*Ryoma gets up and leaves the waiting room for a brief moment.

...

...

...

...

...I know how you all feel...but I’m hardly the most important factor at play right now.

When you’re an analytical prowess like me, you tend to notice small things...and you’ve been fidgeting uncontrollably since we got here...

Can you blame us?

Komaru’s become the best teammate, the best leader, the best FRIEND, to us in the past 8 years.

And when she needs us most...there’s nothing we can do for her...!

And the kids...the kids we spent our childhoods with...All their lives are at stake!

And on top of that, YOU’RE back, which makes everything worse.

Ugh! The nerve on this guy!

Komaru was able to tell Toko in the time it took to get here about Haiji Towa’s plans to blow up the hospital. You probably don’t know this, but we’ve finally found a way to remove your dumb helmets, and now he’s choosing to strike.

Why now? Of all times?

I can think of two reasons.

One: Before, Haiji didn’t have Organization Zetsubou. Meaning he couldn’t have easily gotten the resources.

and Two: I think he wants to crush our hope. All those years ago, when Komaru and Toko beat Big Bang Monokuma, finally, when the adults had hope, it all came crashing down on them...Literally...

He’s doing the same to us. You guys have hope for your friends in the hospital, and just when you get hold of that hope, he’s going to consume you with despair.

...Then we need to stop him.

I know, but what can we do?

I’ll tell you what we’re not gonna do...

We’re NOT gonna stay here, sitting around, twiddling our thumbs, waiting for something to happen!

...What are you suggesting? That we go back to Towa City and attack Haiji ourselves?

...And what if I am?

Ah...!? S-Seriously?

No! I won’t allow it!

This isn’t up to us! The Future Foundation have already prepared to take action! This isn’t our place to act, you imbecile!

I already know that! But I’m not following the Foundations rules and I’m NOT asking your permission!!

I am Masaru Daimon! And I’m more a fighter than a thinker, you know this!

Actually Masaru, I’M the Fighter, you’re the Hero.

Who cares about that!? That still means I gotta fight through this!

But the Foundation-!

Can I just interject for a minute?

Do you guys...work for the Foundation now?

W-Well...no...We work WITH them, but not for them.

I see...then that means you guys are your own separate group.

So what you do can be none of the Future Foundations concern, right?

Then why not let Masaru run to Towa Tower and wreck shit?

W-Well I-

Nagisa, let’s be real. The Future Foundation has nothing to do with why you’re refusing to allow Masaru to go.

You’re just scared and soft-hearted. Scared that he’ll get hurt and you’ll lose your friend.

...

Nagisa...?

It’s...It’s not a shameful act to fear for your friends safety...and to be honest, I feel similar to Masaru.

Words can’t describe how much I want to rush into Towa Tower and kick the everloving shit out of Haiji...

But I’m still conflicted. Just because you feel like doing something terrible to someone who DEFINITELY deserves it, still doesn’t mean you should actually go and do it! This isn’t-

Nagisa, stop. Stop trying to explain yourself.

Kotoko, I-

I...I hate it...I hate the fact that he was torturing Big Sis, and we were so unaware of what was going on.

Komaru set herself up for this, but she did so because she didn’t want anyone else getting hurt...And if I don’t do this for her sake...

I-I could never call myself her friend!

So...you’re in on this too?

I don’t care if it’s just us two...I-

Three.

Huh?

Revenge Story-Population: 3. I’m coming too.

Jataro!

Nagisa. You’re right. We all know you’re right.

But...we have to do this. We can’t let this go as long as victory is within reach.

We know that going after Haiji for revenge makes us just as bad as him, but we really can’t cap all this rage and anger. We NEED to do this.

...

Fine...Fine, you win.

But if we’re going to do this, then I want all the members of the Warriors of Hope there.

We’re a team, we fight till the end as one.

Nagisa...thank you.

Damn straight...!

Yeah...

Ah...good for you guys!

And you? Sound good?

...!?

You’re willing to ask me as well?

I don’t exactly trust you Monaca, but you did save Komaru’s life, so I’m willing to give you a chance.

And something tells me you want to take a shot at your “Big Brother” too...and I specifically said “all the members” didn’t I?

Hmph...fine then.

[starryviolentine]

Color Me Blue (That’s Me Without You): A Pre-Apocalypse Story

Part 1 (here)     Part 2 (here)

Part 3/10: A Gruesome Twosome

Therissa slaps on her headphones, cranks up the volume on her CD player, and lets herself get lost in her world of mediocre, low-budget nail art. Starting off by removing her old coat with some “peach scented” acetone (which actually smells like pure toxic chemicals and isn’t fruity in the least), Therissa decides to go with a simple basic black and starts with her right hand. Therissa likes to get the worst over with first. Painting her own nails with her non-dominant hand is still a pain in the ass even though she’s done this a hundred times before.

By the time Therissa’s finished with two coats of black and a clear top coat on both hands, it’s been well over an hour. All she’s got left to do is wait until they’re dry. To speed things up a bit, she plugs in her hair dryer and uses the cool setting to assist with the drying process. Curious, she glances over at Violet’s bunk again, just to see if her roommate is still in the same spot she saw her last.

Sure enough, there she is… in all of her gloomy, glowering glory.

Except now she’s sitting upright and watching her.

“You know, if you’re just gonna creep on me the whole weekend, maybe I should stay with my sister after all,” Therissa comments aloud, knowing full well that her voice is being drowned out by the obnoxious humming of her hair dryer. She watches as the frown on Violet’s face is replaced with a perplexed expression, confirming that she didn’t catch a word she said.

Violet mouths something, and even though Therissa can’t hear it, it’s undoubtedly a confused ‘What?’

Once she deems her nails to be dry enough, Therissa shuts the appliance off. “You’re not seriously going to mope around the entire time Brody’s gone, are you?”

Scowl returning, Violet visibly stiffens and crosses her arms. “I’m not moping.”

Therissa rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to the mess on her desk, starting to put things back into their proper place. “Whatever you say.”

Hair clips, cotton pads, tiny bottles of dark reds, purples, blues and blacks… The teen haphazardly tosses everything back into her makeup box. So she isn’t the most organized person in the world, but so what? Her fingers curl around her half empty bottle of nail polish remover, ready to put it back as well, but then she stops as an interesting idea comes to her. The corners of her lips twitch with the tiniest hint of a smile.

“Hey, V,” Therissa calls, “come here for a sec.”

Violet is apprehensive, her voice unsure. “What for?”    

“Just get your butt down here before I change my mind.”

Before she can stop herself, Violet finds herself complying with the command. She climbs down her ladder and stops once her feet reach the floor, pausing to stare at Therissa as though trying to figure out her intentions before stepping any closer.

Still seated, Therissa scoots herself a couple of feet to the right and gestures to the space beside her. “Pull up a chair.”    

The younger girl silently obliges, dragging her own chair across the room and placing it beside Therissa’s, but still keeping a bit of distance between them. Violet slowly lowers herself onto the very edge of her chair and keeps on her toes… just in case. Curious green eyes watch the teen, who pulls out several small bottles from a box on her desk and starts to line them up in a neat row.

Oh no.  

If this is what this looks like… and it really, really does… any second now Therissa is going to-

“Let me do your nails.”

Violet internally groans.

“You’ve got nothing better to do… I’ve got nothing better to do…” Therissa leans her head on her hand, looking at the unenthusiastic girl beside her. “Honestly, what have either of us got to lose?”

“My dignity.”

The comeback is timed so perfectly, with just the right amount of snark that Therissa is both amused and impressed. Compared to when she first arrived at Ericson’s, Violet has come a long way in regards to feeling comfortable around others, Therissa included. There’s something rather endearing about the way that she’s gone from never saying a word to Therissa, much less making eye contact, to being able to be herself around her. She can even be kind of sassy sometimes.

For the second time that morning, Therissa explodes into laughter.

By now, Violet can recognize when Therissa’s laughing to be mean and when she’s laughing for real, and this happens to be one of those rare times when it’s a genuine, happy-from-the-inside-out kind of laugh. The younger girl sits up a little straighter, feeling somewhat proud of herself for making her roommate laugh like this. It turns out to be almost contagious, too, because Violet has to try really hard to keep a straight face.

“Relax, I promise I won’t make you look like a fairy princess or whatever. My shades rock,” Therissa says confidently. “Besides, if you end up hating them, just take the polish off. No commitment needed.”    

Violet has never cared about makeup and nail polish and girly things like that, but the fact that Therissa, the teenager who never used to want anything to do with either her or Brody, is extending an invitation to join her is such an unheard of occurrence that it’s kind of enticing. So Violet shrugs and forces out a sigh, sitting deeper into her chair. “Fine.”    

“Pick a color, any color.”

All of Therissa’s nail polish is dark and dramatic, much like the teen herself. Her selection of colors may not be bright and bubbly, but they’re still rich and vibrant in their own way. It’s no surprise that there are two different shades of black in the mix as well. Leaning closer to get a better look at those two in particular, Violet immediately gets the urge to ask what in the heck the difference between “Midnight Misery” and “Satan’s Satin” is, but, before she can, her gaze locks onto one particular bottle at the very end of the row.

Inside the bottle is a gorgeous sapphire blue with swirls of silvery glitter, like an ocean of stars against the night sky. It’s mesmerizing, and Violet can’t quite take her eyes away. She’s never seen Therissa wear this color before. And it’s not that she wants to put it anywhere on herself, exactly… she kind of just wants to look at it.  

She must have stared for a little too long because Therissa, catching on, grabs the bottle in question with a teasing grin. “Did you always like sparkly things or is Brody rubbing off on you?”  

Violet’s ears feel hot. “I don’t! I was… I was just looking.”

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” Therissa says. “Give me your hand.”

“What?”

The teen raises an eyebrow. “Your hand, so I can do your nails. Duh.”

“R-right…” Violet clears her throat and timidly offers her left arm to Therissa, who takes her wrist and pulls it closer to her face. The first thing that the younger girl notices is that her roommate’s hand is a lot softer and warmer than she expected, and it makes her feel a little strange.

“Gross, Violet, you need to stop biting your nails.”

Now completely and utterly mortified, Violet tries to yank her hand away, but Therissa holds on tight.

“Uh-uh, I’m fixing this.” The teen fishes through her makeup box until she locates what she’s looking for - a pair of nail clippers. “Seriously. Don’t do that. It’s a disgusting habit.”

So Therissa clips the uneven, jagged tips of Violet’s chewed fingernails and only then starts to paint them. The teen works left to right, from Violet’s little finger to her thumb, each stroke smooth, fluid and deliberate. It’s so much easier doing somebody else’s nails than your own. In no time at all, she’s done with one hand and sets the brush down. “What do you think?”

“Um...” Violet moves her hand to get a better look.

“Don’t move your fingers or you’ll ruin them.”

Keeping her digits as stiff as she can, Violet rotates her wrist to examine her nails. The unfamiliar weight on her fingertips is totally new and is definitely one of the most bizarre sensations she’s felt in a long time. She answers honestly. “It feels kinda weird.”

Snorting, Therissa grabs Violet’s other hand so she can finish up. “Seriously, though. Don’t touch anything until they’re dry, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“You know, Brody would kill to be in your place right now. Apparently her mom won’t let her paint her nails until she’s sixteen.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve read her diary.”

“You what?”

Therissa holds back a laugh. “It was like one time, I swear. Like last year. And that was before..." She trails off, stopping herself from finishing that sentence out loud. Before we liked each other. Therissa's not in the mood to humiliate herself by admitting that she cares about Brody now and would never read it again. Time to change the subject. "Can you believe that, though? The only thing more ridiculous is the fact that she actually obeys that stupid rule."

For the next several minutes, both girls are quiet while Therissa continues working on Violet’s nails. There’s something about sitting so close to one another, hands touching, that’s making this a little more intimate than either of them expected. They seem to have formed an unspoken agreement to just not say anything else until Therissa is finished.

With one last swipe of glittery blue across Violet’s pinky, Therissa lets out a satisfied sigh and recaps her nail polish. “Done and done. Let’s get these dry and then you’ll be good to go.”

While Therissa gets her blow dryer set up again, Violet holds her hands out in front of her and stares at her new nails, unable to recognize them as her own. It almost feels like a stranger’s hands have somehow been fused to her wrists. There’s only one way to be sure. Violet takes a deep breath, then tries to wiggle her fingers.

And they move.

These are her hands.  

Out of her mouth slips a soft, breathy whisper. “...Holy shit.”

Smiling smugly, Therissa switches on the hair dryer and extends her open palm. By now, Violet knows the drill so she wordlessly gives her roommate her hand. Anything else she said wouldn’t be heard over the noise anyway. As Therissa dries her nails, Violet notices right away that the air is nice and cool against her skin - not warm like she expected. After Violet’s fingertips have been under the dryer for long enough, Therissa shuts the device off.

“Well, congrats. You survived.”

After giving her fingernails another long, hard stare, Violet looks over at Therissa, only briefly meeting the teen’s eyes before having to look away. “Thanks, I guess…”

Therissa quickly waves it off. “Don’t mention it. Ever.”

The younger girl stands and pushes her chair back to her own desk on the other side of the room, then plunks down on the unoccupied bottom bunk, sighing.

“Do you really have nothing to do all weekend?” asks Therissa, leaning back in her chair and using Brody’s empty bed as a footrest. There’s no malicious intent behind the question. Violet can tell by her neutral tone that she’s not asking to make fun of her, but because she truly wants to know the answer. “I mean, like, isn’t there anybody else you can hang out with?”

Violet merely shrugs, now appearing to be a little too interested in one of the scuffs on the floor. “I just don’t feel like it today.”

“Brody’s cool and all, but you really should try to find some other friends.”

The blonde picks her head up and peeks at her roommate, lips pursed in a sort of half-smile. “Did you just call Brody cool?”

“No! Shut up. I meant ‘cool’ in that… you know...” The teen struggles to find the right words to convey how she feels about their other roommate. She thinks back to the other day, the night before Brody left, and she can still picture her stuffing clothes into that gaudy yellow duffel bag of hers while excitedly rambling on and on in her quirky southern accent about all the things her family had planned for the weekend. “Like, in that cute, geeky sort of way.”

Violet’s smile grows into what Therissa would call a blood-boiling, shit-eating grin. “You called her cute.”

“God, Violet!” Therissa grabs the first object within reach - a nail file - and flings it in her direction. “I just meant that she’s a good kid.” Violet has the audacity to laugh, causing Therissa to jump up and lunge at her. “And you’re infuriating!”

“I’m not laughing! I’m not-” Clearly laughing, Violet tries to fight Therissa off her, but the older girl easily pins her to the bed.

“Laugh it up while you can, Blondie,” huffs Therissa, releasing Violet and collapsing onto the mattress beside her. The teen waits for her roommate to get a grip on herself before laying down the law. “Here’s how it’s going to be, so listen up. You won’t mention this conversation to Brody, ever, and I won’t tell her how miserable you are whenever she’s gone. Capisce?”  

The younger girl freezes. There is no way Brody can ever find out about that. Not that it’s true, of course, because it’s not... but Violet can’t have Therissa putting crazy ideas into her best friend’s head. And knowing Brody, she would totally believe her. Seeing as she doesn’t have much of a choice, Violet gives a weak thumbs-up.  

“You’ll live. It’s only four days.”

Violet watches as Therissa pushes herself upright and goes back to her side of the room. The teen resumes cleaning up her desk and Violet, ignoring the slight twinge of disappointment in her chest, takes that as a sign that the two of them are done hanging out. Returning to her own bunk, Violet lies on her back, trying to come up with something to do for the rest of the day… and the three after that.

Four more days...

“The hell are you doing back up there?”

Violet lifts her head at the sound of her roommate’s voice. Therissa’s standing there, hand on her hip and looking at her like she’s an idiot. There’s a stack of CDs and an old boom box on her desk where the nail polish and makeup used to be.

“Come on, I’m going to introduce you to some real music.”

A tiny smile forms on Violet’s face.

Maybe the next four days won’t be so bad after all.

[glassbangtan]

who they say you are {Kim Taehyung x Reader}

Words: 9.7k

Summary: Sewing is something you should be good at, but you’re not. It’s as simple as that - you just can’t do it. So, you are quick to snatch up Kim Taehyung’s offer of teaching you the basics. 

Genre: fluff - slight angst - historical!au

Warning: a lot of old-time views in this one lads 

Notes: masterlist - buy me a coffee! 

---

     “Miss Beckett, I really can't do this.”

   The teacher didn't even give you a glance this time. She kept her back to the classroom, too busy scrawling on the chalkboard to care about one of her students struggles.

   You frowned, looking down at the piece of fabric in your hand; it was badly twisted at this point, the navy blue string having got tangled halfway through – you hadn't noticed the mistake and continued sewing, meaning all of the fabric was folding in on itself.

    This happened most days; sewing was certainly not your favourite class. Your finger got pricked on the needle too many times to be comfortable, forcing you to spend half the day wiping blood on the jumper of your school uniform. Miss Beckett tried her hardest to help you understand the rules and decorum of sewing, but you were certain by now that you were just a lost cause.

    “Miss Beckett,” you said again, looking up. “I really messed up this time.”

   Miss Beckett's fingers tightened around the stick of chalk. Even from her side profile you could see the tensing of her jaw, though it quickly disappeared when she finally turned to look at you, replaced by that beaming smile of hers. Her dark grey eyes were watery and blood shot, and her curled blonde hair was stuck up from where she'd ran her hands through it only seconds prior.

    Slowly, she walked over and inspected your work. Her smile never wavered, but her eyes hardened. “How did you manage this, Y/N?”

   “It was an accident,” you replied. “I think I looped the stitches-”

  Miss Beckett grabbed the fabric out of your hand. The swipe was a little too rough to be called calm, but Miss Beckett tried her hardest to keep up the charade of being the kind and patient teacher she was meant to be. Nonetheless, you sensed her anger and slid further down in your seat, folding your arms over your chest. The other girls in your class were trying not to snicker, sitting straight backed, as they always did.

  Miss Beckett tapped your shoulder as she inspected the damage. “No slouching in my classroom.”

  You shimmied back up. “Sorry.”

  “You're going to have to start again,” Miss Beckett said. “I don't see any point in trying to fix it now; you really must be more careful, Miss L/N. We're running low on supplies as it is without having to give you extra.”

  “Sorry, Miss Beckett.” You tried for a smile. “I'll try harder next time.”

  “That you will,” she grumbled. “Next time you step out of line, it'll be the ruler across the knuckles giving you a punishment, not just me.”

  You nodded, watching her leave. Looking down, the bruises on your knuckles from your last punishment were still healing; the next set would surely cause some permanent damage, and you really didn't want that.

  “Okay class, break time has started,” Miss Beckett announced. “We'll be looking at some recipes when you get back.”

  You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Gathering up your stuff, you headed out onto the playground and immediately went straight for your little hiding place, as far from the girls building as possible. It was just outside the boys building, though none of the male teachers would be able to see you; if one of the students saw you, you wouldn't mind. They weren't touts.

  The day was already off to a bad start. Finally being alone gave you unexplainable relief as you tucked yourself into the tiny little alcove, folding your legs to your chest, leaning your head back against the bark; bugs would be crawling in your hair in no time, but you didn't care at the minute. That would only be an issue when one of the teachers saw it, but until then, you would bask in the pleasantries that came with having to deal with no authority figure.

  You wanted to be like all the other girls.

  It was a sad thought, but it was the truth. From a young age, your parents taught you that you were going to be raised as every other girl was – you were to become a wife, cook the food, bare the children. That was the path set out for you, and yet you stumbled as you walked along it. You were getting older now, teenage years nearly in your past, and yet you still couldn't do the things all the other girls seemed to do with ease.

  Sewing was the bane of your existence, but it was a necessity.

  You cooking was a danger in and of itself, but it was a necessity.

  You didn't know the types of things men enjoyed, but again, this knowledge was a necessity if you were to ever grow up and be the good, homely wife everyone expected you to be.

   You squeezed your eyes closed, pressing your forehead into your knees. You would just have to work harder, study for longer hours, maybe get some help off some of your classmates, even though they didn't like you. You were the girl who didn't know basic etiquette – that confused them. They came from households that drilled this kind of knowledge into their heads at a very young age – your mother and father had been a little late in their realisation that being a wife was your end goal, as it always should have been.

  A groan slipped past your lips before you could stop it.

  “Oh, bloody hell!”

  Your eyes shot open, body lurching to the side to get away from the loud voice that just boomed to your left. The boy kneeling by the door was covered in leaves and brambles, his puffy brown hair adorned with broken twigs. His broad shoulders could barely fit in the door, and so he looked to you for help.

  You narrowed your eyes, staring back at him. “Who are you?”

  “I'm a little stuck,” he said. “Could we maybe do the introductions later?”

  You hesitated for only a second before the silence got too overbearing and you suddenly felt the need to do something. You reached over, grabbed his outstretched hand and tugged; he came free from the door, landing in a heap at your side. His knee brushed against your own – you hastily shuffled away, continuing to stare at him in confusion.

  “Who are you?” you repeated.

  “My name's Kim Taehyung,” he replied, brushing moss from his uniform. If you had done the same thing, Miss Beckett wouldn't have just taken the ruler to your knuckles – this carelessness called for the punishment of humiliation, if nothing else. “What about you?”

  “Y/N L/N.”

  His eyebrows shot up, weirdly well shaped for someone who didn't seem to care about etiquette whatsoever. “Is that right? You're the girl everyone's been talking about, huh?”

    You blinked. “I suppose.”

  Taehyung nodded, settling down against the wall. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, and you couldn't help but notice the tiny little smile playing on his face as he spoke; you wondered what there was to smile about.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I've heard about you. Not too good at your classes, are you?”

  “I don't think I'm awful.”

  “I never said awful.” He opened one eye, looked at you. “I said you're not too good.”

   You huffed, turning away. “If you've come in here just to insult me, I'll have you know that this is my den and I did not invite you in.”

   Taehyung giggled. Giggled. “Does it make you angry that I'm in here?”

  “N-not angry, but-”

  “Oh yes.” Taehyung clicked his fingers above his head, as if just realising something big. “Girls aren't allowed to get angry. I forgot about that.”

  You narrowed your eyes. “Who told you that?”

   “I've witnessed it with my own two eyes,” he replied. “You think that stupid little wire fence can keep us from seeing what you ladies do on your breaks? You're so passive with each other, it nearly makes me feel ill.”

   “Oh? Have you just admitted to peeping on us during break times, Mr Kim Taehyung?”

  Taehyung grinned. “I won't lie.” He rolled his head towards you. “It's difficult to keep my eyes off some of you.”

   You bit your lip and looked away; this was the kind of behaviour Miss Beckett was forever warning you against. Boys and their flirtations – you needed to focus on your studies. You needed to figure out how to do everything else before you even thought about throwing yourself into a relationship – and certainly not with someone as brash as Taehyung.

  He sighed at your silence, looking back up through the canopy of leaves shielding you from view of passers-by. “So tell me, Y/N – why is your poor little finger all bloodied up like that?”

  You looked down, hiding your hand beneath your leg. “No reason.”

  Taehyung raised a brow. “It looks quite painful. Do you want me to fix it up?”

  “I'm fine.”

  “Was it from your sewing classes?”

  You narrowed your eyes, glancing at him; he wasn't even looking at you as he spoke, simply staring up at the ceiling with a slightly dazed expression on his face. It was only now, when you were no longer afraid to look at him, did you realise just how dishevelled he really looked; his uniform had been put on with complete abandon by the looks of things, his canary yellow blazer stained with dirt, his white shirt rumpled beneath it. His striped tie was pulled to the side, revealing a lick of tanned collarbones that were, too, stained with dirt.

   However, it wasn't just his uniform that was suffering. His brown hair was like a mop, feathery atop his head, not styled in the usual slicked back style you knew most boys to wear. Though the boys side of the school was much more lenient with what they let their students do, you knew they were fairly strict on appearances. How Taehyung was getting away with all of this was completely beyond you.

  Part of you even admired it.

  With your silence, Taehyung looked at you. “You don't talk much, do you?”

  “What?”

  “I asked you a question.” He snickered. “Lost in your own world, little lady?”

  You scowled. “What did you ask?”

  “I asked about your sewing classes.”

  “They're fine.” You awkwardly rubbed your bloody thumb against your wrist. “I'm just. . . not very good at it yet.”

  Taehyung tilted his head to the side. “Are you asking me for help?”

  Your head snapped up. “What? No! When did I say that?”

  “You didn't need to. I heard you loud and clear!” He pushed himself to his knees, too tall to stand up. Even just halfway up, his head was brushing the leaves. “I'm very good at sewing. Very, very good.”

   “They don't teach boys sewing,” you pointed out.

  “Not in school, but boys can teach themselves if they want to.”

  “How do you have that kind of free time?”

  Taehyung frowned, glancing down at you. You simply shrugged, to which he rolled his eyes and pointed at the white shirt he was wearing. “See this? I made it on my own.”

   You would be lying to say you weren't shocked at this little revelation; the shirt looked store-bought. Yes, it was dishevelled and crumpled, but it was in one piece and it looked comfortable enough. It fit against his chest perfectly, hanging off his frame just the right amount to look purposefully lazy.

  He grinned, noticing your startled expression. “You seem surprised.”

  “I am,” you said. “How did you make that on your own?”

  “Practice,” he replied. “So what do you say? I'll help you out with your sewing every day after school.”

  You eyed him. “What's in it for you?”

  He grinned. “A nice bit of company.”

  You found that exceptionally hard to believe, but you had no time to argue before Miss Beckett's voice was ringing out across the yard, demanding the girls to file up at the door. You stared back at Taehyung for a moment longer; he glanced over his shoulder, regarded his own form tutor standing patiently by the doors before turning back to you with a sharp, raised eyebrow.

  “What do you say?”

  You bit your lip. Miss Beckett called out again. You had to make your decision now.

  And there was so much wrong with it; why was he being so nice to you? Why was he offering up his precious time to a person he barely even knew? It was confusing, and you were determined to get your answers, but for now, you just needed to seal the deal.

  Hesitantly, you pushed yourself up onto your knees and stuck your hand out. “Deal.”

  Taehyung glanced at your offered palm, a slow smile appearing on his face before he shook it. “Great. See you after school, Y/N L/N.”   ---

  Boys didn't usually make you nervous.

  For one, you had no interest in them. Thanks to Miss Beckett and other teachers at your school, you'd been taught that boys should not be a priority at this age; yes, you were growing older. Soon, you would be expected to move out and start a family of your own, but for now, your studies should be the priority.

  Secondly, you didn't exactly interact with boys your age that much. Your school was split into two buildings; the boys side, and the girls side. The two buildings were split by a wire fence, and the only time you ever caught a glimpse of the boys was when you were in your hiding place, waiting for the bell to ring. They would come pouring out the front doors, pushing each other and fighting over footballs – it was a direct contrast to the calm and quiet yard of the girls school.

  But now, as Taehyung led you towards his front door, you were feeling the effects of what were undeniably nerves. You kept your hands tucked in your pockets, your head down, made very little attempts at conversation – Taehyung didn't seem to mind. The man was strange like that. He walked with a skip in his step, even as you passed the group of whispering girls who were pointing in your direction; you recognised them from school. They were the year below you, and clearly found the sight of you and Taehyung walking together to be something quite scandalous.

  Which it was.

  You weren't meant to be associating with boys just yet. Word would surely get back to Miss Beckett, and she'd scold you for prioritising a boy over the studies you were so dramatically failing at. She would take a ruler to your knuckles, humiliate you in front of-

  “My mother's in.”

  Taehyung's voice snapped you out of your daze. He was looking down at you, a slight arch to his brow.

  “Is that alright?”

  “Of course,” you replied, quickly flattening down the front of your uniform. “Should I have brought something? Maybe I should have gone home and changed into something a little more-”

  “It doesn't matter.” He chuckled, amused at your sudden flustered state. “She won't mind what you're wearing, and she doesn't expect to be showered in gifts. Come in.”

  You hesitated, but knew you had no choice. The girls from the year below you were still staring, whispering amongst themselves, pointing at you. You glanced at them only one final time before scrambling in the front door of Taehyung's home.

  And a pleasant home it was.

  It was nothing special. His mother was a baker, you were aware, having visited her shop on multiple occasions. She baked the loveliest little lemon cakes, and stepping in the front door of her home brought you back to the first time you tried them; though the scent was shadowed by a mixture of other things, the unmistakeable smell of said lemon cakes was present.

  You found yourself smiling, trailing your hands along the slightly bumpy wallpaper. Taehyung bounded directly into the kitchen, throwing open the door with a yell of, “I'm home, mother!”

   “Oh, Taehyung, quiet down! The neighbours are already chewing my bloody ear off about all the noise!”

  You trailed after Taehyung. He was hugging his mother when you walked in – a small woman with shoulder length brown hair and a pointed chin. Taehyung was much taller than her, so much so that he now rested his chin upon her head, twisting from side to side as he embraced her.

  You awkwardly stood by the door, keeping your head down.

  “And who is this?” Taehyung's mother asked, pulling away from her son. She gave you a warm smile, definitely not the reaction you'd been expecting. “I didn't know you were bringing guests home, Taehyung.”

  “Mother, this is Y/N.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and you stifled the urge to gasp at the contact; what would Miss Beckett say to this? “She's here to learn how to sew.”

   His mothers eyebrows shot up. “To sew? Do they not teach young ladies that down at the school?”

 “Oh, they do,” you said. “I'm just not very good at it.”

  You expected her to laugh at you, just like everyone else did. The idea of a woman not being able to sew was so uncommon these days that any woman who couldn't handle a needle and thread was seen as incompetent, a joke, a hindrance on society because what else could they possibly be good for?

  But Taehyung's mother simply nodded. “I wasn't very good at it, either, darling. I wouldn't worry about it.” She turned to Taehyung. “Are you gonna show her some of the stuff you've made?”

  Taehyung shrugged, glancing at you. “If that's something she'd be interested in.”

  “I'd love to,” you replied, and you really meant it.

  Taehyung smiled before turning back to his mother, his arm still wrapped round your shoulders. “Well, I guess we should get going. Call me if you need anything, alright?”

   His mother nodded, turning back to the cookies she'd previously been baking with nothing more than a  thumbs up to send you off; it was so bizarre. This was something you couldn't help but think as Taehyung steered you out of the kitchen and led you upstairs to his room.

  Your parents would never allow this kind of thing. A boy in your room? It was unheard of, nearly laughable to think about. They would be utterly furious if they were to find out you were heading into a boys bedroom without his mothers supervision; this was definitely something you would have to keep to yourself for now.

  Taehyung's room was nothing special. These days, people couldn't really afford special. The war was going on, and things weren't cheap any more – however, it was nice for what it was. Plain grey walls, a white ceiling with the paint chipping off onto the dirty brown carpet. His bed was a single, freshly made with dark red covers. Beside it, he'd kicked his brown work boots to the side. Now, you watched as he did the same with his black school shoes, volleying them across the room.

  “Feel free to take your shoes off if you want,” he said, walking towards his wardrobe. “Comfort is key, after all.”

  “So they say,” you muttered, wrapping your blazer a little tighter round your shoulders. “Your room is lovely, Taehyung. Very cosy.”

  He grinned, ducking into his wardrobe as he did so. You were given only a brief flash of the boxy grin he'd shown you so many times before; it was one you weren't sure you would ever get enough of. Despite seeing it all day, you were still disappointed by the missed opportunity to see it again.

  “It's small,” he said. “But I like it that way. Keeps the heat in, you know?” He pulled away from his wardrobe holding a denim jacket. Little patches were sewn into the denim, unlike anything you'd ever seen. Almost carelessly, Taehyung tossed it over his shoulder onto the bed, before ducking back into his wardrobe.

  You walked over and picked up the garment. It was heavy, the denim slightly damaged and crinkled, but it was beautiful nonetheless. The patches were of different patterns; plaid, little swirls, one even containing a cluster of stars on some dark purple cloth. He'd somehow managed to stitch them together before plastering them onto the shoulder of the jacket.

  “Have you always been a fan of fashion?” you asked, running your fingers along the seams. “You're awfully talented.”

   “Why, thank you,” he replied, voice muffled. “I tend to get very bored when I have to wear the same thing over and over, so I just. . . jazz it up every now and then to keep things interesting.”

  You frowned. “Jazz it up?”

  “You know.” He glanced at you. “I add stuff to it. Some patches, some beads, sequins – I just change the style of it to stop my fashion getting stagnant.”

  “What an interesting concept. You must save thousands.”

  Taehyung scoffed. “It's not about the money. If it were up to my mother, she'd be buying me a new jacket every other week – she always says I grow out of my clothes quicker than a newborn.”

  You giggled. “You are tall.”

  Taehyung stood up, revealing just how tall he really was. “I think I've stopped growing by now. Mum just likes to be dramatic because I'm taller than her.” He took the denim jacket out of your hands. “You like this?”

  “I think it's wonderful,” you replied, a hint of wistfulness in your voice. “I would never be able to hide the stitches like you do – that's something Miss Beckett is forever telling me to work on.”

   Taehyung raised a brow. “Is that right? Well, it looks like we've got our first lesson sorted out, then.”

  You started. “What?”

  “Sit down. I'll go get my things.”

   He didn't give you a chance to say anything else. He shuffled out of the room, leaving you entirely on your own in a bedroom you were unfamiliar with – the bedroom of a boy with whom you barely knew.

  You hesitantly sat down on his bed, biting your lower lip. You glanced around as if expecting your parents to jump out of the wardrobe and catch you in the middle of such a taboo act, but you would be lying to claim there was no thrill that came with it. It wasn't quite the thrill of rebellion – that provided more anxiety than anything else. It was more so the thrill of being in Taehyung's room that excited you.

  You barely knew Taehyung. The two of you had not conversed in any way, shape or form throughout your time at school, but you'd heard about him. Most girls in your class had heard about him, because he was him. The rebellious little kid who somehow excelled in all his classes even though he did the absolute bare minimum. Rumours spoke of him kicking his muddy feet up on the desk, lounging back even as the teacher stared at him from the front of the classroom. You'd seen his ragged uniform for yourself. You'd heard his loud laughter and boisterous, confident singing from over the fence during break.

  Yes, Taehyung certainly didn't keep himself subtle.

  And you were sitting in his room. You were waiting on him to come back so he could help you with your studies – it was so bizarre.

  Taehyung arrived not five minutes after leaving, carrying a tray of nick nacks with him. “Sorry I took a while. Mum was asking me about you.”

  You sat up straight. “She was? Should I go? Does she not want me here-”

  Taehyung sat beside you. His shoulder brushed your own, and your words immediately caught in your throat. “Calm down, Y/N. It was nothing like that. She was just asking me if you were staying for dinner, and I said no.”

 You deflated. “Oh. Good.”

  “Unless you want to.” He reached into the little blue tray and pulled out a dark blue thread and needle. His forehead creased when he brought the needle up to his eye and started to push the thread through the tiny little hole.

  “I don't think my parents would like me being out so late,” you replied, watching him closely. “How do you do that so easily? Getting the thread through the needle's eye is difficult even for Miss Beckett.”

  Taehyung grabbed your hand, placing the thread in your palm. “Practice makes perfect, my dear. Now, follow my instructions, okay? You're going to walk into class tomorrow knowing more about the needle and thread than even Miss Beckett herself.”

  ---

  “Miss L/N, I love what you've done with your piece this morning. Have you been practising?”

  You looked up from your needlework, giving Miss Beckett the most genuine smile you could conjure up – in truth, you were nervous. You had spent at least four hours at Taehyung's house last night, allowing him to explain everything he thought you needed to know. There were even some moments where he'd leaned over and guided your hand for you, which was a most pleasant yet terrifying experience; especially considering you were in his bedroom.

  “A little bit,” you replied, fiddling with the needle. It had pricked you multiple times today, but not nearly as much as you were used to. “It's getting a bit easier, I think.”

   “That's so good to hear. Keep up the good work.”

  You nodded, continuing to smile until she'd walked past you and was distracted by the needle work of Lauren McGee who sat behind you. You exhaled shakily, looking back down at your work; you would need to work on your speed. Taehyung told you last night that being meticulous, unforgiving with your stitches would improve the final product tremendously, but it also meant slowing down the process. The girls around you had already moved on to their second set of stitches, whilst you were barely halfway through your first.

  Nonetheless, Miss Beckett clearly wasn't worrying about speed. It was your own self consciousness convincing you that you needed to keep up.

  You leaned back and continued stitching. Around the room, people were looking at you and whispers were being shared; you chose to ignore them. It was much easier that way. None of them really knew what they were talking about – they saw you walk out of school with Taehyung, but anything beyond that could be nothing more than assumptions. If their guesses came back correct, you wouldn't be the one to tell them.

  At the end of the day, nothing happened. You and Taehyung were nothing more than friends – if that. He was your tutor above all else. You had no connection to him whatsoever.

  As you walked out the door for break that day, Miss Beckett gave you a pleasant smile. It wasn't normal for her to do that; she usually scowled at you, told you to work a little bit harder, or just ignored you completely. The smile was a nice one to receive.

  You headed straight for your hiding hole at break, ducking beneath the brambles and tucking your legs into your chest. You felt like treating yourself this afternoon, and so you reached into your rucksack and dragged out the sketchbook you'd made for yourself a few months prior – it was your fourth sketchbook, but the only one you'd kept. Your mother would scream if she knew you were taking up such a hobby. Chances are, you would probably have to discard of this sketchbook when the time came, too, but for now, you let yourself get lost in the feel of the charcoal beneath your fingers and the bumpy pages gliding beneath your fist.

  You were so lost in the landscape drawing that you didn't notice the shift of the trees, the way the canopy roof shivered with sudden movement.

  “Ay, you are here!”

  You yelped, flinching back with a hand pressed to your collarbone. Taehyung climbed into the hiding hole beside you, tugging his knees into his chest, making himself as small as possible so he could fit.

  “What you got there?” he asked. Today he wore a flat cap that pushed his messy brown hair into his eyes. You reeled back the urge to reach over and brush it away.

  You nuzzled your sketchbook into your chest. “Nothing that concerns you.”

  “Oh, so we're back to that, are we?” Taehyung shook his head, reaching into his back pocket to retrieve a packet of wine gums that he purposefully did not offer you. “That's fine by me. I'll just take my expertise elsewhere.”

  You raised a brow. “Are you talking about our sewing lessons?”

  “That I am.”

  “I didn't ask for those, you know. You were the one who offered.”

    He glanced at you. “And did they help?”

   You frowned, regarding him with a displeased expression. He grinned, a purple wine gum pressed between his teeth, before he turned away and leaned his head against the wall.

  “I'm gonna take that as a yes,” he said. “Anyway, it was fun teaching you a few tips and tricks; a shame that it has to end like this.”

  “Taehyung-”

  “I was enjoying your company, too. I always gain so much pleasure from teaching the innocent.”

  You groaned. “Taehyung-”

  “Now my dreams of becoming a professional sewing tutor have gone to hell-”

  You gasped. “Watch your mouth, Kim Taehyung!”

  He laughed. “That's what gets you to burst?”

  “You're being over dramatic. I'm not going to humour you with any type of response.”

  He shrugged heavily. “Fine by me, my dear. As I said, if this is how our little deal ends, then I can do nothing about it.”

   “You just want me to show you my drawings. It's quite an invasion of privacy, if I do say so.”

  “But you coming into my home and sitting on my bed isn't?”

  You bit your lip, looking down at the sketchbook – he made some good points, whether you wanted to admit it or not – plus, you'd be lying to claim you weren't desperate for another one of his tutoring sessions. They were so laid back, and you learned so much from them. You were clearly improving – surely losing such a thing wouldn't be worth it?

  You sighed and dropped your sketchbook, open, onto the grassy floor between you. Taehyung hesitated, examining your face for just a second before he let his eyes drop to the open page; it was a portrait of your father you completed a few months prior, your reference being a picture he'd sent from war. It came attached to a post card with some lovely words written for you and your mother scrawled on the back; your mother had been kind enough to send you off with the picture, as long as you let her keep the letter. The deal was a fair one to you, and as soon as you got in bed that night, you'd drawn it – just to keep an extra copy somewhere.

  It wasn't perfect by any means. A few of the lines were smudged with your tears; any picture sent by your father could make you cry. However, you were happy with how it turned out. You could really make out who it was, and that was the important thing.

  Taehyung didn't bother to pick up the book. He kept it on the ground, but ran his fingers along the thick black lines. His eyes raked over the page repeatedly; you only knew this because you couldn't keep your own eyes off him, the way he bit his lip and tilted his head, getting a better look at the art you'd created but never shared.

  “This is wonderful.” His voice was quiet. You leaned forward instinctively, tilting your head.

  “You think so?”

  “I didn't know you had this kind of talent in you, Y/N. You seem so . . . not confident with your sewing, that I just assumed you held no passion for anything like this.”

  You scoffed. “Just because I don't like sewing doesn't mean I can't do anything with my hands, Taehyung.”

  He blushed. You weren't sure why.

  “Well, I think you're very talented,” he said, looking up with a small smile. “Maybe you can draw me one day.”

  You blinked. He stared back at you.  

  What an odd suggestion.

  You coughed and gathered up your sketchbook, slamming it closed. “Maybe one day.” It was the best answer you could give at the moment.

  He settled back against the wall, wrapping his arms round his knees.

  You awkwardly settled beside him. “So does this mean we can continue our tutoring?”

  “I think I can make arrangements, yes.”

  You nodded, biting your lower lip. “T-tonight again?”

  Taehyung smiled softly. “You almost sound eager.”

  You shrugged.

  He nodded, nudging his arm against your own. “We'll have you being a top needleworker in no time. I promise.”

  ----

  His promises did not come loosely.

  Three weeks in, and visiting Taehyung's house after school had become a daily thing. He would wait for you just by the wire fence, then the two of you would walk to his house and spend a good few hours sketching and practising needlework. Somehow, Taehyung managed to convince you to let him use your sketchbook, and so now the pages were being filled not only with your rough sketches, but Taehyung's attempts at art, too.

  He wasn't even all that bad. He was improving as you gave him little hints and tips, and he was obviously very proud of himself.

  You were also improving with your needlework, which wasn't going unnoticed by Miss Beckett.

  “She didn't even yell at me today when I dropped the saucer during cooking.” You were sat on your knees, hands pressed together in excitement as you recalled the days successes to a tired Taehyung; apparently, he'd had army training that afternoon, so he was now attempting to lay horizontally in the hiding spot, a tiny bit of his head popping out the doorway, his feet squished up against your leg.

  “That's really great, Y/N,” he drawled. “What were you cooking?” He poked his head up, narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why didn't you bring me any?”

  “Because it isn't finished yet,” you said. “We're finishing it when we go back in for next lesson.”

  He grunted, dropping his head back to the floor. “Can I have some on the walk back to my house?”

  “If you want.” You tapped his ankle. “But maybe we should skip our lessons today. You look awfully tired.”

  “I'm not tired.” His words were a slur.

  You frowned. “Honestly, Taehyung, I don't mind. My parents probably want me home earlier tonight, anyway; we have some distant relatives over.”

  “Oh? Are you close to them?”

 You shrugged. “Not really.”

  “Then they don't matter. You can come over to my house for as long as you like.”

  You rolled your eyes, though you were unable to hide your amused grin; you quite liked when Taehyung got like this; drowsy, barely understanding what he was saying. He was never a very subtle person, but he at least had the decency to have some kind of filter on a normal day. This, however, was him when he cared too little to keep a leash on his words. It was a nice change, even if it did sometimes work against your favour.

  “Do you ever think you'll tell your friends about this place?” he asked suddenly.

  “What place?”

  “Our hiding place.”

  Our hiding place. Neither of you had discussed the logistics that came with him basically moving in – it just kind of happened. He'd moulded himself to the place, and you weren't complaining.

  “Well,” you said, “I don't really have very many friends to tell, to be quite honest.”

  He paused. “That's a shame. Them girls are really missing out.”

  “Thank you, Taehyung.”

  “I mean it.” He looked at you through the bottom of his eyelids, too exhausted to lift his head up but too serious to not make eye contact. “I think you're one of the best friends I've ever had.”

  You bit your lip, trying to fight the heat from your cheeks.

  “And you're very gorgeous.”

  You nearly gasped. However, you just managed to catch yourself, instead snapping your eyes down to his outstretched form. His eyes were now closed, one hand draped over his forehead whilst the other rubbed lazy circles into his stomach. He grumbled beneath his breath, complaining about his exhaustion and how overworked he was, how he just wanted to go home, but you could barely hear those tiny little complaints over the sound of your own heartbeat, the echo of his previous words.

  You looked away. Boys were a distraction. You couldn't afford to be distracted right now – not when everything was finally starting to work itself out.

  ---

  During lunch time, you didn't go to your hiding place. You actually ate lunch.

  You didn't mind eating on your own. Actually, you preferred it. You had an entire bench to yourself, and not a single person could judge you for whatever drawing you were producing during the half hour you had to eat the ham sandwiches your mother packed for you.

  A few feet ahead of you, the wire fence stood. Behind that, you could make out the shape of Taehyung, standing tall amongst his group of friends. You never saw them sit down to eat lunch; Taehyung, at least, was always stood up, chewing away at a sandwich or a banana, throwing an apple idly into the air. Now, however, he stood with both hands stuffed in his pockets, laughing at something his blonde haired friend said.

  You wanted him to talk to you, but even he wasn't that reckless; if the teachers saw the two of you speaking through the wire fence, they would be furious. So, during lunch times, you pretended not to know each other.

  “He's a pretty boy, isn't he?”

  You jumped, charcoal darting across the browning page. You looked up, stifling a curse of frustration.

  Standing beside you was Catherine Warren, one of the girls in your year. She was tall, had a bulky build and pig tails that sat atop her head; this late in the day, her hair was starting to fall out of its bun, and she looked similar to that of a used rag doll.

  She sneered down at you. “I didn't want to believe you had eyes for Kim Taehyung, but here I am, witnessing the tragic love story for myself.”

   You swallowed. “Excuse me?”

  She nodded towards the boys yard. “My little sister saw you walking into his house a few days ago – what was all that about, Y/N? You told Miss Beckett you went straight home after school to work on your needle work.”

  Your stomach was tied in knots; you weren't sure what to say, how to reply, how you could even wiggle your way out of this. The younger kids always stood outside Taehyung's house, but you didn't see any of them as an issue. You hadn't known one of them was Catherine's little sister.

  “I don't. . . My mother is friends with his mother.” You said it too quickly. You knew you did, but you couldn't help it. You needed to get the lie out as fast as possible, before she realised you were, in fact, lying.

  Catherine tilted her head to the side. “Is that so? How come you lied to Miss Beckett, then?”

  You winced. “Now, you see-”

  “He really isn't going to love someone like you.”

  You blinked. “I'm sorry?”

  She shrugged as if to say What are you gonna do? Slowly, she lowered herself onto the bench, staring at Taehyung the entire time. “A man like that deserves a wife who can serve him just right. When he goes off to war, he shouldn't need to be worrying about his wife falling over a water puddle, or pricking her finger on a needle and bleeding to death; he should be coming home to a nice cooked meal and warm clothes – preferably clothes that have been freshly stitched.” She eyed you. “These just aren't things you can offer him.”

  She wasn't wrong, but you didn't think those things would be an issue. When you were with Taehyung, he never made you feel inadequate or less than for not having the same set of skills as the other girls. He praised you for the skills you did have, made you feel special for the things you could do.

  But maybe Catherine was right.

  After all, that was the kind of thing your mother was always talking about – your husband was meant to be treated well. He goes out of his way to provide for the family you are expected to provide for him, so the least you should do is be able to give him a nice, tasty, home cooked meal – but cooking wasn't part of your expertise, either.

  You looked back over at Taehyung and imagined him coming home to Catherine every night; it fit so much better than him and you. Sure, you and Taehyung had chemistry. That much was undeniable – but would you be able to make him happy? Catherine certainly would. She was a top student in almost every single class, had studied wifely etiquette from the moment she could read.

  “You know I hate being the bearer of bad news,” she said, placing her hand into your own. You started, tried to pull away from her grip but she curled her fingers and pressed the back of your palm into the wood. “But I don't want to see your heart get crushed. Not so early on in life. You've made the mistake of falling for someone at such a young age, but it's only going to cause you heartache. I come to you with the best intentions – I swear.”

  You nodded dazedly. “Thank you, Catherine. I – I appreciate it.”

  She smiled, a look of sadness in her eyes that seemed so real. You were so ready to believe her, because every word she spoke made so much sense.

  She stood up after that, not saying a word of farewell or anything else on the subject; she simply turned and started jogging back to her friends, who all giggled and cheered when she crashed back into their tight little circle.

  You turned back to the fence; Taehyung had turned around now, was saying his final goodbyes to the last of his remaining friends. As soon as the unknown boy was gone, disappearing behind the swing set, Taehyung made eye contact with you and waved.

  You gathered up your sketchbook and darted away without acknowledging him.

  ---

  Keeping your head down, you scuttled towards the exit gates, pressing your sketchbook and your slate into your chest.

  You couldn't bare to see him. Not right now, not after what Catherine said. Throughout the remainder of the day, you'd sat at your desk and pondered over her words, really giving them a once over – and you came to the conclusion that she was, of course, correct.

  Taehyung did deserve better. Taehyung probably wanted better, but he'd started something now and he had too big of a heart to send you away. However, even as these thoughts came to the forefront, you were still left with questions: Why did he still visit you at the hiding place every break time? Why did he offer his help in the first place?

  Why did he call you gorgeous?

  He was tired that day, but does that really mean he wasn't speaking the truth? It was a guessing game – his exhaustion could have made him dazed, unable to pinpoint what he was actually talking about; or, his exhaustion could have made him careless, meaning he was speaking the truth and just didn't really care that you heard.

  You tried to push these thoughts out of your head as you walked towards the exit in a sea of girls wearing the exact same thing as you. The boys and girls came together as they walked out the gates, but none of them mingled. The girls kept their heads down, and the boys stayed within their own small groups-

  You saw Taehyung.

  He was waiting for you at your usual spot, his hands tucked into his pockets and his head tilted back; he didn't seem as chipper as usual, his lower lip between his teeth and his eyes half closed. You desperately wanted to walk over to him, take his arm, lead him away to tell him all the things you'd done today. You would tell him you were nearly finished the garment you'd been working on, that cooking class went amazingly, that you'd managed to wash the dishes and prepare the food all before Miss Beckett called time.

  But you didn't.

  You kept your head down and carried on walking, hoping and praying the cover of similar uniforms and a sea of students would be enough.

  “Y/N!”

   You closed your eyes, walking a little faster. Taehyung, however, had very long legs and a determination you'd never seen in any one else. It was only a few seconds before he'd managed to grab your wrist and spin you around, so abruptly that you nearly stumbled into his chest.

  He was looking down at you with a frown, his perfect brows furrowed. “I was waiting.”

  You tugged your hand from his grip. “I have to go home, Taehyung.”

  “Home?”

  You started walking again. He grunted, stumbling to catch up.

  “Hey, hey, that's fine,” he said. “If you can't do the tutoring today, that's fine. We can just do it tomorrow.”

  “I won't be able to do it tomorrow, either.”

  Taehyung paused. “Right. Okay. The day after tomorrow-”

   “I don't think we should keep seeing each other outside of school.”

   Taehyung froze, and this time, you froze with him. You glanced at him, noting the frustration building on his features. He clenched and unclenched his fingers, keeping his dark eyes locked on your own, searching for an answer you couldn't give him because then he would realise this entire thing was your fault and not his.

  “Right...,” he drawled. “Why is that?”

  “It's inappropriate.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Inappropriate? After nearly a whole month, you've finally decided that us being friends is inappropriate?”

  You flushed, looking away. “It makes sense, Taehyung. People have started talking, and you have a reputation to keep up. I have a future to think about-”

  “Reputation.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “A future. You're saying this like I can't possibly be part of your future.”

  “You can't.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because . . .” You faltered; there really was no reason he couldn't be part of your life. He was male, but that didn't mean you couldn't be friends as you grew older – the two of you could easily continue this platonic relationship, and nobody would bat an eye once you finally managed to get a husband.

  If you managed to get a husband.

  But the truth was, the more you thought about it, the more the word friends just didn't seem to fit. It was the strangest feeling, the closest thing to romantic feelings you'd ever reached, but they were there and you could no longer completely deny them. Taehyung was special to you in a way nobody had ever been, and the idea of keeping him around to just be your friend was nearly enough to make your stomach turn inside out.

  Taehyung tilted his head at your silence, stepping closer now that you seemed dazed enough to let him. “Why not, Y/N?”

  “I'm just not good enough for you.” You inhaled sharply, the words released. Before you could catch a glimpse of his face, you turned on your heel and started walking in the opposite direction. The tears would start soon, and you could not let him see such a thing.

  His fingers wrapped round your wrist again. You groaned in frustration, and he immediately let go, stumbling back when you span around to face him.

  “Can you not just leave it at that?” you demanded.

  Taehyung shook his head. “Say that again.”

   You blinked. “Say what?”

  “What you just said. You're reasoning for not letting me be in your life.”

  “Tae-”

  “Just say it again.”

  You inhaled shakily. “I'm not good enough for you. There. Are you happy now?”

  “You sound utterly ridiculous. You know that, don't you?”

   You opened your mouth to respond, some quick retort to send him off his feet, but your words faltered when you processed what he'd said.

  Narrowing your eyes, you said, “How so?”

  “How can you not be good enough for me when you're the most perfect girl I've ever met?”

  You hadn't heard him right.

  This wasn't how any of it was supposed to go – he was meant to walk away and let you wallow in your sadness. He was meant to go off and get a wife – someone like Catherine – who could treat him right and give him the life he was meant to have. He was meant to forget about you.

  He stepped closer. You were so caught up in your shock that you didn't notice the way his arm lifted slowly, the way his fingertips traced over your elbow before he tugged you towards him just that little bit. You should have pulled away, but you couldn't.

  “Have I finally stunned you into silence, missus?”

  “You don't mean that,” you whispered.

   “I meant every word,” he replied, grinning from ear to ear. Your stunned state was clearly very amusing to him. “Now, can you explain to me what you meant when you said you weren't good enough? Because I'm awfully confused by that statement.”

  You looked down at the ground between you; he was so close. His black school shoes scuffed your own. “I don't know how to sew.”

   Taehyung paused. “Right...”

  “I don't know how to sew, and you deserve someone who can fix your clothes when you get them messed up.” You groaned. “I don't know how to cook, either, and how am I meant to be a decent wife if I can't even give you a home cooked meal when you get home? It's unheard of! I'm a lost cause, and you don't deserve that.”

  Taehyung blinked. “W-wife?”

  You flinched back, pulling your elbow out of his grip. You stumbled back until you were pressed up against a tree, panting breaths escaping you. Taehyung shook his head, fighting out of his daze before he walked towards you, throwing caution to the wind and cupping your face.

  “Ay, breathe, love,” he said. “I'm not gonna judge you.”

  “How am I ever going to have a good future if I can't do what they all say I should?” you asked, voice cracking.

  Taehyung closed his eyes, before his hand traced lightly to the back of your neck. He pulled you in, and it was with your head buried in his shoulder that you finally let go; you didn't exactly cry, though you wanted to. You gripped his shirt tightly, bundling the fabric until your knuckles grew white. He held you just as tight, swaying softly back and forth.

  “They've really messed you up, haven't they?”

  “W-what?”

   “You're so much more than just the things you can do for a man. You're so talented at drawing, so talented at building things, so talented at climbing; just because they aren't the ideal skills for a woman to have, doesn't mean they're any less impressive.” He tilted his head, lips inches from your ear. “It doesn't mean a man will be any less interested in you.”

   Your breath hitched. “But . . . I should be able to provide-”

  “If a man doesn't know how to cook his own food and fix his own clothes, then he's a lazy scoundrel who you shouldn't waste your time on.” Taehyung pulled away then, though he kept his hands on your waist – you were thankful for that. “It's not your job to provide for people who are too caught up in their beliefs to provide for themselves.”

   You stared up at him, unsure of what to say – actually, no. You knew what you wanted to say. You were so, so certain about what you wanted to say, but the words got lodged in your throat because Taehyung was staring back at you with that glint in his eyes, and his hands were on your waist, and people were walking out the school gates but neither of you cared.

  He tilted his head to the side. His feathery hair flopped to the side, and this time, you didn't hesitate when you reached up and brushed it back. His eyes slid closed for only a second before he opened them again and grinned.

  “And personally, I'd be honoured to come home after a long days work and cook dinner with you rather than just expecting it on the table as soon as I walk in the door.” He leaned down, pressing his head into your shoulder. “But I think we should be taking things a little slower.”

  Your breath hitched. “Tae...”

  He hummed. “Yes?”

  “People are looking.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  You looked around at the confused, wide-eyes of the girls in your class, all of whom had been making it their lifes mission to ward you as far from Taehyung as they could possibly get. Catherine was glaring at you from across the way. Miss Beckett was walking out of her classroom, her eyes immediately widening when she saw the scene in front of her.

  But you were too far gone at this point.

  You reached up and cupped Taehyung's face, pulling him away from your shoulder. He looked down at you in amusement, though his smile faded as soon as he saw the look of pure determination on your face.

  “What are you-”

  You kissed him.

  It was unplanned and you had very little experience, but somehow, just having Taehyung's lips on your own made you feel like a professional – you weren't good at a lot of conventional things, but this was something you could certainly get used to, something you were certainly willing to practice and improve on.

  Taehyung growled against your lips, his hands winding tighter around your waist. The girls squealed, looking away as if the scene in front of them was something taboo and sinister – they would go home and gossip to their mothers about the absolute horrors they'd witnessed today, and you would be curled up in your hiding place with Taehyung sprawled out across the brambles, and everything would be perfectly fine.

  Miss Beckett screamed your name from across the playground. You pulled away, eyes widening, but Taehyung had other ideas – he turned, gave Miss Beckett a thumbs up before he snatched up your hand and started running towards his house. You stumbled after him, an unexpected laugh bursting from your chest that Taehyung mimicked.

  And the two of you just ran.

  ---

  “What are you hiding?”

  You just continued to grin, staring at him as he crawled beneath the canopy, into your usual hiding spot.

  Taehyung raised a brow. “Y/N, I'm too tired for guessing games. Why have you got your hands behind your back?”

   “Sit down and I'll show you.”

   “Oh, don't mind if I do.” He flopped down on his back, groaning in relief. His head lay in your lap, his feet hanging out the door of the hiding spot, but neither of you cared any more. There was nothing to hide.

  He opened his eyes and looked up at you. “So? What is it?”

  You pulled the garment out from behind your back and waved it in front of his face. His eyes immediately widened, a grin forming. A grin that you loved so dearly.

  It wasn't perfect. By no means was it up to the same standards as the garments Taehyung made, but it was an improvement from what you used to produce, and you were so, so proud of it. Miss Beckett had been giving you the cold shoulder these past few weeks, but upon seeing your progress, even she had been able to break out of her shell to congratulate you on the hard work you'd been putting in.

  Taehyung slowly reached up, tracing his fingers along the hemline; you'd sewn a few little ribbons along the bottom of the jacket. Taehyung always told you he liked ribbons, things dangling off his clothes. There were sequins on the shoulders, patches sewed into the main body of the garment.

  “Y/N...,” Taehyung drawled. “This is amazing.”

  You grinned, dropping it onto his stomach. “A gift.”

  His eyes shot up. “For who?”

  “For you, of course.”

  “I can't take this!” He scrambled up, grunting when his head hit off a branch. “This is your first finished piece – surely it should go to someone special.”

  “You are special.”

 He rolled his eyes. “Someone a little more special than me.”

  You reached forward and brushed your thumb along his cheekbone. He narrowed his eyes at your affection, but melted into your touch anyway. “I don't think there is anyone more special than you, Kim Taehyung. At least not to me.”

  His eyes softened. He released a puff of air, looking back down at the jacket you'd presented to him. Biting his lower lip, he said no more, but instead wrapped an arm round your shoulders and tugged you into his side.

  “Do you like it?” you asked.

  “I'm going to cherish it.”