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my-castles-crumbling · 5 months ago

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Anon Advice Asks - February 8

curious anon, bottle anon, USAID anon (new), juvenile friends anon (new), lemon anon (new), all time low anon (new), age shaming anon (new), universal anon (new)

Curious Anon

Hi! So I’ve had some questions about Aromanticism and I wasn’t really sure who else to ask so I’m hoping that this is ok. So, I read a microfic where an Aromantic character got into a relationship with another person and they were both happy in the relationship and I was wondering how that worked. Like, does one person see it as a relationship and the other as a friendship? How does the dynamic work? I just had some questions but I wasn’t really sure who would be the best to ask, but I hope you are having a good night!

Hi! So I'm not aro and all relationships are different so I can't know for sure, but I would say that the important thing to remember is that aro (and ace) identities are a sectrum. Not aro people are repulsed by the idea of a relationship. It might just be that they have different boundaries or they find it more difficult to fall in love. So I'd guess that maybe that character IS in love, but it happens very rarely, or they have relationship-related boundaries that other relationships might not have. But I could be wrong, as every relationship is different!

Sorry I don't have a better answer!

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Bottle Anon

okay so hi! Very tired bottle anon here. I just spent the good portion of 40 minutes scrolling in the ask cas tag of your blog to find a super old ask of mine. I did use my anon name but you forgot to tag it, not that I really care, it was a fun adventure.

https://www.tumblr.com/my-castles-crumbling/770485761995882496/bottle-anon-again-how-do-i-tell-if-a-guy-is-into?source=share

This one. It goes into detail about the guy I like, mentioned in my most recent ask. I am getting along better with new girl but she's still kinda off to me but we're getting closer. And my guy friend has asked me over to his house. To clarify, we're all in year 9 in Australia so like 14-15. And we have to choose general maths or methods. And I'm kinds failing maths but methods is needed for most degrees and a higher change of going to a better uni. So since my guy friend has just moved back from England, I just just but it's been months, his mum has to retake her teaching degree.

And she's a math teacher. So he offered me to come over to his house, several times to not only be tutored by his mum FOR FREE but to also binge the owl house and finish gravity falls. And his mum will do it because she hasn't taught a student since she had to restart her degree due to a difference in teaching standards.

And we also got into the same class for year 9 core subjects + writers workshop + leisure and recreation. Leisure and rec is the best sport elective cause you just go to bounce (a trampoline place), bowling, time zone (an arcade), fencing, rock climbing and more.

Like I'm just really excited to be with him so much. And we've both been more touchy? I guess is the word. He'd let me ruffle his hair or hold his arm or pat his shoulder and he's allowed to pat my head and hold my arm.

But again new girl is kinda ruining it for me. I should be fucking basking in this and she's just ruining my delusions. I'm kinda annoying in a playful way as a way of showing affection and he's okay with it but new girl is mimicking it in a way? Like I used to take his drink bottle and just hold it until we 'fought' so much we became a tangled mess of limbs and it was our game. And now she's doing it and like distracting him when I'm talking to 'more adult things'.

The reason I'm into him is our childish, random conversations. That's who we both are. I'll talk about lesbian lizards and he'll talk about Tyrone being a real one in gravity falls simultaneously. And that's how we clicked. But she's just showing off her singing skills and talking about class and yawn. I can't deal with it.

Shit, this is long one so I'll cut it off here. Uh yeah, that's where it's at. But I think, and hope, it'll change when new girl realises how disinterested he is in singing and school work. Because I've tried that already. School work stays in class, lesbian lizards are a lunchtime or after school discussion. And unless she knows about this stuff, she's not going anywhere with either of us. And she'll never understand our inside jokes. And I'd rather keep it that way.

Shit, I'm so sorry I didn't tag it!

Okay, it sounds like things are getting a bit better! Just remember to focus on your guy friend. No matter how the other girl feels or what she's doing, it sounds like your guy friend is showing interest and doing his best to make you feel cared about, so try not to let your resentment towards the new girl affect that. Be as kind as you can to her, because getting mad at her probably won't make you look very good, you know? I know it's much easier said than done...but yeah, It sounds like things are settling the way they're supposed to and if you're patient, your guy friend will figure out his feelings.

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USAID anon

Hi cas, my parents work for the the state department and idk if youve seen this but trump just fired everyone that works for USAID. Ik that people in the US right now know that this is bad but i can SEE what its doing right now in the moment and its horrible. I have friends texting me making sure that my parents dont work for USAID because everybody who does or who is her because of someone working there (EFMs if you know what that means) have to leave this friday. I know of a senior whos in his last semester of highschool and now his parents dont have a job and he has to pack up everything he owns and do one semester of highschool in a school hes probably never been to before. I know someone personally who JUST moved to an entirely new country in december and has only been there for two months and now he has to move schools and countries AGAIN after only living here for around 5 months. They have 3 kids under 6 as well. It terrifying. When the election results came in we were joking around about how we were gonna get deported because we thought it would never happen. It was something we could joke about because it was impossible right? But now just a couple months later im terrified wonderong if my moms job is next. He fired all the workers of USAID simpky because he thought their work was unnecessary. What happens when he decides entire embassies are useless?

I know that this will also heavily impact the people in countries USAID works and my heart genuinely aches at the work that is going to suddenly stop because trump decided that this department was useless. I bring up people getting fired and american families affected because one im devastated and terrified and two because trump doesnt care about americans. If he cared he wouldnt leave all the FAMILIES jobless. He wouldnt leave these people worrying about moving countries, schools, and lives behind while also suddenly losing their jobs with barely a weeks notice.

None of us saw this coming. Idk if its just because i dont keep up with news enough but this came as a shock to most people i know.

I dont know what to do. I dont know whos next. I dont know how people voted this man into office. I had so much hope and optimism realixing that most of the stuff hes trying to do will most likely be turned down but its all come crashing down. Something i thought would NEVER happen just happened. What else is to come? Im scared and im worried for me and my friends and everybody. Im scared, and sad and confused and angry. So angry that this poor excuse for a human being can do this to people.

Im mad about everything else as well but i need someone to talk about this because the rest i can process. This is the first thing i have genuinely been completley shocked by.

Ignore the spelling mistakes please im tired and angry and rushing.

Thank you so much

Hi <3

I am so furious for you. And you have every right to be angry and shocked and scared. The things happening right now are not okay, and they're absolutely terrifying.

I think right now, the best thing to do is to be there for people and to not give up. Share your story and don't let this administration quiet you, you know? Don't do anything dangerous, but don't give in, either. I wish I had better advice, but sticking together is the best thing we can do.

I am sending you all of the love and I would be so glad if you could keep me updated-- I'm thinking of you and your family.

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Juvenile friends anon

So cas, i LoVE my friends alr, but some of them are homophobic, as in they aren't outright homophobic but they just make mean jokes and are super juvenile like eww and stuff. But the thing is, I wanna come out to them. I love my girlfriend and I wanna introduce them to her, but like ik they might not have the best reaction, what do I do?

Hi <3

I'm so sorry your friends are like this. Honestly, I think you have to weigh the pros and cons. How do you think your friends would react if you sat them down and told them that you have a serious thing to say and that you need their support, and then came out? If you think they could be rude or even violent, or they might out you to others, then it might not be a good idea. But if you think they might be willing to learn how to correct their homophobia and they're just ignorant, then you could consider it. But I don't know them, you do. Always but your safety and mental health first, though <3

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Lemon Anon

Hi I'm anon 🍋

I used to have a marauders fanart account. It grew pretty big but irl friends from insta found it. And I had to delete my insta and tumblr. I'm really sad rn. I've made another one atm. But I'm scared of starting a tumblr and insta marauders fanart account again. Because I feel I've ghosted all my mutuals. Idk what to do anymore.

Frankly I don't want to interact too much with mutuals or even other people, it had become a little toxic as well, especially worshipping small creators and having an hierarchy between fic writers etc.

I do want to post more fanart but I'm torn really.

Also how have you been doing? You really are my safe space in this fandom thank you so so so much Cas x

Hi! I'm so sorry about what happened with your accounts. I can't even imagine my irl people finding my accounts lol.

I mean..I think you could honestly look at this as a good thing though, in a way. You're right that fandom can sometimes get really toxic. It sounds like now, you can re-create a space for yourself and make new boundaries that maybe you didn't have before. Only interact with the people and the content you want, you know? Create just for yourself, if you want! Just share it with a few online friends and never post, if that makes you feel better! Remember that this is supposed to be fun, so only do what's fun and comfy for you with this new account. And if you're looking for new mutuals, you're more than welcome to dm me <3

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All Time Low anon

this is sort of in response to the anon talking about feeling guilty for watching the hp reboot. i understand that feeling so well it actually makes me nauseous. i dont struggle with this for harry potter so much; part of the reason is what you said in your reply, as well as because i think fanworks are such a grey area in this discussion its hard for me to completely drift one way or the other about it. but my favorite band since i was 12 (im 24, so literally half of my life lmfao) has been all time low. there was a point in time where their music was all that would get me out of bed in the morning and get me through the days when i was at my absolute lowest. they've been on every single playlist ive ever made since i heard their music for the first time. they've been my number one artist on my spotify wrapped every single year ive they've done it. they mean so much to me in ways i find it hard to articulate sometimes, you know? but they've vome under fire the last few years with a lot of god awful accusations against them and from the moment i heard about it as even just a rumor it immediately soured every good thing id ever felt about them. i passively kept up with it and i think (very comfortable being wrong though) that a lot of them were proven false? im not sure; but the fact there were accusations made in the first place makes me queasy enough to not have to know whether or not every single accusation made was true or false. im uncomfortable enough without knowing. but i kept listening to their music anyways because i couldn't bring myself to let go of something that had been so important to me for so long. but recently ive noticed that i cant actually remember the last time i listened to one of their songs. i finally noticed ive been routinely skipping their songs as soon as i notice they're playing. im surprised about how indifferent i feel about having noticed that. sometimes ill pause over the skip button when i hear certain songs but i cant name the last time i could listen to a single song all the way through without feeling uncomfortable. i still cant bring myself to stop calling them my favorite band. i still really want to listen to their music. i feel horrible for not being able to just delete all of their music and walk away. even the thought of listening to them makes me feel so ashamed and embarrassed so why are they still my favorite band? anyways.

Honestly I think it's SO hard to like...let go of something that once helped you through so much, you know? Like even though its obviously the right thing to do and you're doing it, it's a little part of your past, and you can't change that. I think that's why it's SO devastating when we find things like this out. Because it's like...it changes how you look at your entire past. It's like when you find out your parents did something shitty and you suddenly lose that hero outlook of them.

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age shaming anon

Heyy, this is my first time submitting an anon, I hope I do it right.

So what’s happening is:

I have a brother who’s verging on 13 and online friends who are all closer to my age like, 15 and 16.

We all hang out together, and though they know my brother is younger than me they don’t know his exact age.

Yesterday, one of my friends started age shaming someone who was trying to befriend them, I think the person was like thirteen, calling them a baby and childish.

And…it just made me upset you know? I hate age shaming, I think it’s stupid because as long as their not discussing inappropriate topics with adults, everyone matures differently and at different ages, so what if someone is 13 and their friend is 16?

Anyway, my apologies, this was just a little rant.

Have a nice day !

Hi! I think you've hit the nail on the head when you said- there's nothing wrong with people being friends with someone who's a little older or younger, as long as the topics stay appropriate. I mean, if your 13y/o brother was friends with a thirty year old, I'd be worried. But 2-3 years isn't worrisome as long as the people are nice and aren't talking about things that he isn't ready for or make him uncomfortable. But now I'm wondering...ARE these good people for him to be friends with? Because like...if they're judging others, they definitely could judge him too.

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Universal Anon

Hey Cas, I was hoping for your opinion on something?

So my family LOVES Universal Studios in Florida, and we’re planning a trip there this year. As i’m sure you know, they have a huge HP world. But I’m wondering how bad it is to go to the HP World if we’re already going to be at the Universal Studios theme park? It’s not like we’re spending money to go there specifically, and when we went when I was 17 I remember it being a lot of fun, but there were a lot of things I couldn’t experience due to being in a wheelchair that i could hopefully do now, but at the same time, I don’t want to be offensive to anyone. Now when it comes to HP merch, I already almost never get the official stuff, both because of jkr and because of the price point, so I wouldn’t be buying anything there either, it’d just be going on the rides, and sightseeing.

I’m cis and grew up in an extremely bigoted, small, rural town, and know so little about LGBTQ+ culture (I didn’t even know I was bi until I was 21), for reference, up until I was 19 I knew three queer people, and had never met a trans person. I really don’t want to do anything that would harm people, physically or emotionally, but I also don’t want to miss out on the experience if it’s not a big deal, if that makes sense?

This may make people mad, but in my opinion, you're going anyway, so going on the rides in that particular park isn't going to make any difference. Actually, I did some research for you and apparently, JKR does not get a cut of the ticketing sales, she only gets a cut of licensed merch. So if you're worried about giving money to her, you wouldn't be giving her money by riding the rides.

Honestly, I think the decision to participate in HP-related things is super personal and nuanced. Yes, I have strong opinions about what people should and should not be interacting with, and I definitely regret some of the things I've chosen to interact with in the past, but I don't think riding a ride at Universal makes you a shit person, I promise <3

#curious anon #bottle anon #usaid anon #juvenile friends anon #lemon anon #all time low anon #age shaming anon #universal anon #asks #ask #ask cas

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misalpav · 2 years ago

Note

ram being in love with the daughter of temple priest and even though he isn't very religious he still went there for sandhya aarti once he saw her one jhumke had fallen and finally able to gather some courage he decided to approach her and they had a talk or something.

also one more request don't use y/n can you pls use the name vaidehi ?

anon!!!! I love this prompt and I hope I did justice to your vision <3 (I'm on a writing high rn so I can actually write fast for once would you look at that?)

yemito ee maya

Two years after Governor Scott's death

Ram slowly walked away from his house, lost in thought. He could feel the wind in his face, rearranging his carefully styled hair and ruffling the shirt he just finished ironing. The sun, shining brightly in his eyes, slowly began its journey back to the horizon as kids laughed and ran back home from school. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, letting himself relax. There was a time when he didn’t know what the word relax meant, how it felt to feel his heart rate slowing and have time for himself. Now that he did, he never quite knew what to do with it. Sometimes, he would make a beeline to Bheem or Sita’s house to talk to them or have dinner together, other times, when he didn’t feel like socializing, he would sit at home and read a book. On days like today, when he just couldn’t get himself to pay attention to the words on a page, he’d huff and put down his book to go for a walk, thinking about how much his life and his India has changed.

“Ram anna, chai thaaguthara?” (tl. Do you want to drink chai?)

He turned his head and saw a group of kids at a street food stall looking at him eagerly and quickly recognized all of them from his colony. His mouth curved into a smile as he forgot about his earlier thoughts and started walking towards them, his hands checking his pockets to find his wallet.

“Aa thaguthanu. Anna, okka chai isthava?” (tl. Yes, I’ll drink some. Can you give me one chai?)

As the seller made his chai, he pretended to look in his wallet for money while secretly watching the kids, and smiled with a glint in his eyes as the kids’ faces fell, realizing he didn’t get them anything. He pulled out a 100 rupee note from his wallet and handed it to the vendor, who looked at him confused.

“Migilina paisalu tho pillalu ki vallaku ishtam ainadhi edhaina ivvandi, inka mitha meeru pettukondi.” (Give the kids whatever they want with the remaining money, and if there’s anything left you can keep it for yourself.)

The kids’ eyes widened at him in disbelief, and they quickly ran to the vendor before Ram could have second thoughts and asked for bajjis, dosas, lassis, and whatever else they could think of. Ram chuckled and shook his head, taking a seat at one of the tables and enjoying the warm taste of chai. He was completely aware the colony moms would make their displeasure very well known to him when he went home, but he figured he’d take it if it meant upholding his role as every kid’s favorite person.

The kids sat around him and became engrossed in conversations about their classes, the math teacher they despised, the cricket game they played last night, and a few other things and Ram sat back and listened attentively to their stories while tending to his chai, zoning out only once in a while when the conversation was directed away from him.

At one of these moments, he heard a laugh and the jingling of bangles coming towards them, and he turned his head subconsciously. His jaw dropped as his eyes rested on the source of the laughter: a woman, busy in conversation with a younger girl, walking towards them wearing a beautiful black and yellow saree, her hair tied back in a neat braid, with a book in her hands. As they walked up to her, he suddenly stood up, catching the woman’s attention. When she turned to face him, he held his breath and examined her eyes, bordered with kohl, and the bright red bindi above the bridge of her nose. Silver jhumkas adorned her ears glowing in the sun and the smell of the jasmines in her hair radiated off her, and he was lucky one of the kids pulled on his hand to get his attention. The woman’s face softened as she smiled, turned away from him, and walked away, and he quickly reoriented himself, telling the kids he had other work to do tonight and started in the direction the woman had left towards, promising the kids they’d play cricket together another night.

Ram speedwalked for a few minutes and finally caught up to them, trailing only a few meters behind, but he couldn’t bring himself to approach her. Internally, he was cursing himself out for making this seem easy to Bheem all those years ago, when he himself was such a mess at it. He wished Bheem, Sita, Jenny, the kids, or literally anyone was with him right now to tell him what to do and how not to embarrass himself. His shoe stepped on something and he tripped over, clasping his mouth to make sure no sound came out. When he turned to see what caused it, he found one of her silver jhumkas lying in the dirt. Ram couldn’t believe his luck and he picked up the jhumka, taking it as a sign from the universe to meet her. He then followed her, his faith in himself somehow reinstated simply by the fact he had something of hers in his pocket.

The women approached a Shiva temple, removed their shoes, and entered, and Ram stopped outside. He hadn’t been inside a temple since his father was killed by the British. Everyone close to him had tried to reinstate his faith in god, but he always shut down the idea by stating that if god was real, his father wouldn’t be dead, and if god is real and let his father be killed, then he had every reason to be extremely angry at that god. Ram almost turned around and left, but then he saw the woman returning outside, and froze, realizing she was staring at him.

“Intha dhooram vachi lopadiki raara?” (tl. You came this far, won’t you come in?) she asked. Realizing he was stuck, he slowly took off his shoes and stepped into the temple.

Once he was standing next to her, she asked him what his name was and he replied saying his name is Ram. She introduced herself as Vaidehi, and he said the name back to her, appreciating the way it rolled on his tongue. They sat in the back of the temple, and Vaidehi opened her book and started reading while he examined her features, and noticed she had removed the other jhumka. Ram hated being interrupted while reading, but he also needed to close this silence somehow, so he craned his neck to see what book she was reading.

“Avunu, gudiki vachi em pustakam chaduvuthunnavu? Adhi intlo guda cheyyachu kadha?” (tl. What book are you reading in the temple that you can’t read at home?)

That beautiful laughter that first got him to turn his head towards her escaped her mouth again and she told him his father was the head priest and she enjoyed attending the sandhya aarti whenever she could. She told him about the book she was reading, History of Dharmashastra, and they both fell into an animated conversation about the development of Indian ancient societies and their dreams for a modern and independent India. She said India needed more men like Alluri Ramaraju and he smiled and agreed, hiding the joy in his heart from hearing her say that. He never bothered mentioning that he was Ramaraju because he found it refreshing to talk to people normally without being treated like a savior everywhere he went.

Suddenly, a man, who he assumed was Vaidehi’s father, stood in front of the garbhagriha and everyone in the temple stood up. They recited bhajans, and while Ramaraju knew all of them from memory from his childhood and his mother, he quietly listened to Vaidehi’s voice. At the end, he took the prasadam from one of the other priests and walked back outside with Vaidehi. She asked him if he didn’t know the bhajans, and he replied saying he did, but he enjoyed listening to them much more than singing them, opting to leave out the truth about his father. They talked more about their interests, exchanged addresses, and talked about meeting again. As the sun finally set, she told him she needed to leave, and that they’d definitely meet again. Ram watched her walk away and put his hand in his pocket, touching the jhumka he never returned, whispering, “I promise we will.”

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(a/n) should I make this a series lmao I have so many ideas for where this could go. also, I haven't been to india in like 6yrs now (curse the pandemic and then school/work) so idr if 100 rupees is acc a reasonable amount for the chai scene 🗿

open tag list: @obsessedtoafault @rambheem-is-real @lil-stark @manwalaage @contemporarykafka @sinistergooseberries @budugu @the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see @hufhkbgg @eremin0109 @eenadu-varthalu @hissterical-nyaan @how-is-it-in-london @gauri-vishalakshi @sada-siva-sanyaasi @bromance-minus-the-b @darlingletshurttonight @voidsteffy @itsfookingloosah @mad-who-ra @fadedscarlets @justmeand-myinsight @rasnak2 @ghungru @irisesforyoureyes @vijayasena

I copied a rrr tag list I literally haven't used in a year and tried to remember as many old urls as I could. if you want to be added/removed from the list pls lmk <3

#rrr #rrr fics #rrr movie #ram charan #ss rajamouli #alluri sitarama raju #ntr jr #jr ntr #komaram bheem #desiblr #rrr fanfic #yemito ee maya #shri writes #shri's fics #shri's posts

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a-is-away · 3 months ago

Text

chapter 8: children of the grave

summary: in which hellfire has their first session.

warnings: swearing/strong language, smoking, jealous! eddie (again) (kind of a running theme), little lost sheepies intro story, alex and eddie are cute, mention of drinking

part 7: https://www.tumblr.com/a-is-away/779240191185518592/chapter-7-metal-gods?source=share

[eddie.]

IT HAD BEEN a month since that perfect night and alex was essentially in the band by this point. she had even started playing keyboard for some songs, saying she had taken lessons when she was younger and could remember some basics. we wrote another couple of songs, one called teenage rampage that had a real edge to it, and another called freak on a leash. no need to explain where the inspiration for that song came from.

by the end of october, i was finally ready to start hellfire. unfortunately though, i was down a few players. given that it was a huge campaign, i needed as many players as possible. gareth, alex, brian, and jeff were all signed on, but i needed seven people. three more players to round up.

i drummed my fingers on my jaw while staring outside the window in mrs. o’donnell’s class. she was yammering on about some math concept i didn’t care to listen to, and i wracked my brain for potential children of the grave i could recruit.

my teachers had long given up on asking me to pay attention. after seeing me go through the classes for the third time, they did not care to fight with me over grades or attendance or conduct. they likely wanted to see me fail just so i could get out of their face.

i looked back down at my page. i was drawing out the maps we would be using, as well as sketching out creatures and monsters i would be using for combat. i decided this year i would make iron-on shirts, so i drew some sketches for that as well. i heard the bell ring, so i shoved all of my drawings and papers into my bag.

i made my way for the door, dodging classmates that avoided my touch. they likely thought they’d be possessed by whatever weird demon haunted me. to retaliate, i lunged at them with gnarled fingers, making a haunting cackle. they flinched away, one of the girls gasping, “oh my god,” and another hissing under her breath, “fucking freak.” the words used to sting, but after six years in high school, one gets used to the names.

finally, it was lunch. i found the usual table i sit at with gareth, jeff, and brian. they had beat me there, so i gathered their attention by throwing my lunch bag and backpack on the table with great enthusiasm. “gentlemen,” i said. they all hushed their conversations and turned their heads towards me. “hellfire’s 1985 to 1986 year campaign is prepared to commence.” they all gasped and pumped their fists.

“hell yeah,” gareth cheered. i placed my foot on the chair in front of me, my hand across my chest like a noble statue.

“the name of the campaign is…” i drew it out, the three men in front of me leaning in with anticipation. i took my foot down, planting it on the other side of the chair, and wriggled my fingers in front of me, “the cult… of vecna!” deviously looking from person to person, they all made oohs and ahhs, leaning in to glean more information on the new campaign. “this will be combat-heavy, so choose your classes wisely. this will not be for the faint of heart,” i warned. there was that three-players-short caveat i unfortunately had to discuss, though, so i huffed to bring them in again, throwing myself into the chair.

“what’s wrong?” jeff asked, brow furrowed.

“well, there is one small problem,” i sighed, dramatically, placing my face in my hand, turning my face away.

“oh, no,” brian gulped.

“what’s the problem!” gareth begged nervously.

“we don’t have enough players. between you three and alex, we need three more,” i said. a gauntlet. a challenge. i looked at them sidelong between my fingers. they all looked apprehensively amongst each other.

“i don’t know anyone,” gareth started.

“you guys are kind of my only friends,” brian chirped.

“do you even think other people would want to join?”

enraged, and somewhat offended, i stood up. “i didn’t realize you three weren’t one to rise to the challenge!” we caught the attention of a couple other tables, but i didn’t care. “just for that, i will be the one to choose who joins us. who will be brave enough to journey through my ruthless campaign. to the death!” i pointed to the sky, then began my prowl through the lunchroom. i felt their gaze on my back, along with a couple other wandering stares.

most people avoided my gaze. i immediately avoided anyone with a cheer uniform or football jersey; i knew that attempt would be DOA. i considered some of the nerds, but they were all pouring over books or homework. then, my eyes connected with three young freshman. one with curly hair, a weird al tshirt, and a toothy grin. the other with slightly greasy black hair and a preppy get up that did not look like it meshed well with him at all, and the final boy had a bit of acne and pants that settled much higher than his ankles, indicating a recent growth spurt. they all seemed… awkward. misfits. like little lost sheep in need of a shepherd.

in that moment, i knew i had found my final players.

they sat on the end of a long table, herded together and giggling amongst each other like school girls. other freshman ignored them like the plague, sitting far down towards the other end of the table. i brazenly sat across from them, folding my fingers together and staring them down. they looked at me, slightly terrified of what i would do.

“we don’t have any lunch money,” the weird al kid squeaked, clearing his throat and then saying in a deeper tone, “please leave us alone.”

“you boys seem in need of an adventure,” i leaned in. this clearly piqued their interest, their expressions wide and exchanging glances amongst each others.

the tall one eyed me carefully. “what kind of adventure…” he asked.

“yeah, like is this a drug thing?” the one with black hair seemed apprehensive as well.

“mike!” and “dude!” came out of the other two’s mouths, whacking either of his arms. he yelped and rubbed his arms.

i felt a slight stir in my chest. yikes, is that how i’m known? “ah, my reputation precedes me,” i said, sheepishly. “but no,” i leaned onto one shoulder, “this is a matter of dragons, cultists, brotherhood,” i waved my hand in the air then clenched it into a fist. “you three seem up to the challenge.”

the weird al kid quirked his eyebrow. “dragons?” he exchanged knowing looks with the other two, “as in, dungeons and dragons?”

i shot up out of the seat. they knew! “so you’re familiar with the perils and the treachery of the great game?”

“duh!” the boy i assumed to be mike said.

“of course!”

“it’s only the greatest game ever,” the weird al kid stood with me. “we’ve played since middle school, only…”

“... we’re down a dungeon master,” the tall one said, and mike’s eyes met the floor. “are you putting together a club or something?”

i crossed to the other side of the table. “putting together? we have already assembled,” i put my arms around the shoulders of mike and weird al kid, pointing to my table, “we have been awaiting our final members.”

“count us in!” weird al kid grinned. “mike? lucas?”

lucas did not say anything, but mike said, “hell yes count us in.”

i took my arms off of their shoulders and stepped backwards, looking at lucas. “lucas is it? don’t miss out on this golden opportunity: the opportunity of a lifetime,” i offered, hyperbolizing just a hair. he looked to the other two who gave him encouraging glances. he huffed.

“alright, lead the way,” he said. i clasped his hand, giving it a firm shake.

“welcome to hellfire,” i gave them a grin. “now, won’t you all meet your brothers in arms?”

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

on friday, it was finally time to begin. i told the new members and original members to meet in the drama club room friday night at six. i was waiting outside, sitting on the sidewalk, smoking. the other three were already inside, so i just waited for our new lost sheep, and alex.

i saw alex’s car pull into the school parking lot. the light inside her car highlighted her blonde curls, and i watched as she checked her lipstick in her rearview mirror. a smile fell across my lips as she opened her car door with her bag slung across her. we made eye contact across the parking lot and she waved, her walking speed picking up to an almost skip.

“hey, eddie!” she beamed. she was wearing a long, brown skirt, a white blouse, and a quirky little black hat. she saw one like it in a magazine and knew she had to have it. it suited her. she then joined me by sitting beside me on the curb, giving me a one-arm hug.

“hey alex, or should i say ophyra?” i leaned into her hug, referencing her character.

a grin spread across her face, then she sat up straight and clasped her hands together, and said with a swoon, “oh great and sadistic dungeon master, how will you torture us with this new campagin?”

i stuck my cigarette back in my mouth and crooned, “you will see, brave one, how sadistic i can be.” i leaned in towards her and exhaled my smoke into her face. she wafted it away, and i saw the smallest bit of flush creep up her neck.

“it’s a shame we’re replacing our friday night movie nights with dnd,” she said, her arms wrapping around her knees. “not that i’m not excited, but i’ll miss our time with just the two of us.”

my heart quickened. “just the two of us?”

alex looked at me. “well, yeah. you’re my best friend, eddie, i enjoy time with just the two of us.” the sparkle in her eye made me feel like i was on a planet without oxygen.

the tightness in my chest did not subside. her hair slipped from behind her ear, cascading down and covering her face. my hand moved before my brain could comprehend what i was doing, and i tucked her hair back, the middle part of my finger tracing along her jawline. my eyes widened and i jerked my hand away, taking a breath of my cigarette as i furiously stared at the ground. what the fuck? why did i do that? real casual, edward.

i cleared my throat, “we should do another movie night, then. just the two of us. maybe we can workshop a couple songs, or, something.”

“well my parents are going to be out of town next weekend, maybe we could do something at my place,” she offered, reaching towards my hand. i eyed her, then noticed she was trying to take hold of my cigarette. i handed it to her, amused.

“i wouldn’t mind that. where are they off to?”

she took a drag. she only coughed once. impressive. “new york. it’s their anniversary, so they’re going to see a play and all that.” she handed it back.

“sounds like the perfect opportunity for havoc,” i said, grinning devilishly. she laughed. we both watched as a familiar car pulled into the parking lot. she tilted her head.

“is that…” she started, standing up. i stood with her, watching as our new recruit dustin got out of the passenger side door. she began walking towards him, then it felt as if my world shattered as i watched lucas, mike, and steve fucking harrington get out of the car.

“you’ve got to be shitting me,” i said, throwing my cigarette on the ground and grinding it with my foot.

“steve? dustin? guys, what are you doing here?” she asked. i watched as she met with steve at the front of his car, giving him a full-blown full-frontal hug, then pulling away and hugging dustin. they get full hugs and i only got a pity side one-arm thing?

“these three needed a ride to this, uh, thing,” steve said, waving his arm in the direction of the school.

dustin piped in, “uh, uh, uh, it’s called dungeons and dragons,” he said, matter-of-factly. “one of the greatest games ever, one that your tiny little brain could not comprehend.” he wagged his finger in his face. well, he got that tiny part right. “right, yeah, whatever. they needed a ride, so,” steve explained to alex. his eyes connected with mine. i tried to remain cool. calm, collected. i probably instead looked like a homicidal maniac ready to pounce. “but, uh, what are you doing here?” he looked back to her.

alex looked back at me and smiled. i tried to manage the sourpuss expression likely slinking across my face. “i play the great game,” she said. steve looked surprised. “i have been looking forward to this campaign for months.”

steve looked utterly dumbfounded. “i didn’t realize this type of thing was your thing,” he said.

“there’s a lot you don’t know about me, harrington.” she turned on her heel and walked with the rest of the boys back towards me.

“see you back at ten thirty!” dustin called.

“woah, wait, ten thirty?” steve asked, exasperated.

“we’d go longer but these boys have a curfew,” i stood and shouted back at him. i shrugged as i walked backwards and into the school building. we had propped the door open with a rock, slipping into the drama club room without worrying about keys or janitors or locks.

we walked into the dimly lit room. i had prepared the room with mood lighting, maps on the giant wooden table, and my dungeon master books and folders blocking off the head of the table. last year, the drama club made a throne for the spring play, macbeth. they weren’t using it, so it became my throne. “welcome, brave adventurers.” gareth, jeff, and brian were all sitting inside in their unassigned-assigned seats, and the rest trickled into the remaining seats.

gareth sat to my right, my right hand man, and alex sat to my immediate left, my left hand woman. everyone began pulling out their papers, dice sets, character sheets, pencils, and notebooks. alex was the dedicated notetaker for the group. she put the date at the top of her paper, and looked my way, giving me a slight nod.

“gentlemen, and lady,” i stood to look over my books, commanding the room. “we begin your story in mokhbar. it is a sprawling city known as a large religious center. freedom of expression and thought are both encouraged here, protests and discussion groups rampant throughout the city. although, just because freedom of thought is allowed, does not mean all thoughts are well intentioned.” i pulled three minifigures out from behind my folders and placed them on the map in front of us. “here, gathered in the seedy underbelly of the city, we have an elf in fine garments, a half-orc in thick, studded leather, and a human, in a light tunic with a metal breastplate adorned across his shoulders. alex, brian, and mike, will you introduce your characters?”

alex grinned and set her pencil down. she began to describe her thief, using gestures and transforming into a different girl altogether. she put on an accent and held her head high.

then, brian introduced his half-orc barbarian named duluth, and mike introduced his human fighter named aguilos. after explaining to the party what they were all doing there (robbing a nearby shrine), i dove into how jeff and dustin’s characters knew one another. then, how gareth’s lone wolf character and lucas’s town guard character stumbled upon all of them in the shrine, entangling them in a task. the task in question: taking out the leader of a nearby group of religious zealots: the cult of vecna.

alex furiously took notes, and as the story unfolded, the players seemed amped up to continue. i had finished taking them through a village investigation and a scurry with a band of goblins on the outskirts of town when my gaze fell to my watch.

“the last goblin falls with a snarl, turning into a choked gurgling of the blood that flooded his throat. you look around to the battlefield before you, before setting your gaze on the fortress ahead. you know that inside houses the cult you have been tasked to destroy. and with that…” my eyes fell to every player, their breaths held in anticipation, “that is where we will end this first session.”

a chorus of “aww”s and “ah!”s met me as i began to close my books.

“that was so good!” jeff cried, smiling with gareth as he affirmed the same. i felt on top of the world, lighter than air after a good session. i grinned. alex shut her notebook and began putting away her things, talking with some of the others about the session.

“some of your best work, eddie,” she said, closing up her messenger bag. “i’m surprised the newbies could hold their own.”

“hey! we’re the best goblin slayers on this side of the mississippi,” dustin said hyperbolically.

“dustin, literally no one says that anymore,” lucas said, mike nodding in agreement.

dustin sighed. “whatever!” he slung his backpack over his back. “same time next week, eddie?” he grinned his toothy smile, pointing at me. i couldn’t help but give one back.

“of course, young dungeon divers. hellfire club awaits you,” i said, giving him a little bow as he, lucas, and mike walked out of the drama club room.

i said my goodbyes to gareth, jeff, and brian, leaving just me and alex in the drama club room, packing up the rest of the session.

“god, and the way we all met was so funny!” she laughed, handing me a map that i stuffed into a cardboard file box that held all of our dnd props. i kept it tucked away so i didn’t have to continue to take the props back and forth every friday; i would inevitably forget things. “it was just perfect. i cannot wait for next week.” i felt my face flush a bit.

“i’m glad you all liked it. i mean, you saw how hard i had been thinking about it. it’s just so exciting to see it come to fruition,” i beamed. i walked back over to the table after setting down the props in the corner. “ready to go?”

“yeah,” she said, resigned. we began walking out of the drama club room and i shut out the light. walking down the hallway, she said, “hey, so, next weekend, when my parents are out of town…” she trailed off.

i looked at her, searching for her eyes. “yeah?”

“um,” she went pink. i slowed my pace, putting a hand on her arm.

“what’s up, wilson?” i asked, “you okay?”

she shut her eyes then breathed in. “eddie, i want to get drunk. i want to know what it’s like and i want to have grown up experiences because, well, i am one now.” it was as if a cork had been removed from a shaken bottle of champagne; the words wouldn’t stop bubbling out. “and i know you have contacts for booze and, i don’t know, i trust you.” she faced me head-on. she looked so earnest, so brazen. “i want to get drunk with you is what i’m saying.”

stunned, i initially didn’t know what to say. she gave me those pleading eyes, and i just felt my chest unwind a bit. “of course, alex. hey, you pick the movie, i’ll get the booze, and i’ll make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

alex positively beamed. she threw her arms around my shoulders in a quick but crushing embrace. “thank you, eddie! you are the coolest guy ever.” i was again, stunned, but anything to get her to throw her arms around me like that. she smiled then took my arm in hers and pulled me towards the door.

the night was pitch black and i walked her safe and sound back to her car. she got in the driver’s seat, and i kept her car door open to say my final goodbyes. “so, i’ll see you next saturday? seven o’clock?”

“on the dot,” she said, cranking her car. “see you then, dungeon master.”

i shut her car door, then she shifted into reverse, and i watched her drive away into the night.

god, i loved dungeons and dragons.

part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/a-is-away/778657655075094528/chapter-1-i-think-were-alone-now?source=share

part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/a-is-away/778730940998500352/chapter-2-road-to-nowhere?source=share

part 3: https://www.tumblr.com/a-is-away/778843558479380480/chapter-3-hold-the-line?source=share

part 4: https://www.tumblr.com/a-is-away/778918955907678208/chapter-4-for-whom-the-bell-tolls?source=share

part 5: https://www.tumblr.com/a-is-away/779107967954010112/chapter-5-no-one-like-you?source=share

part 6: https://www.tumblr.com/a-is-away/779110159190491136/chapter-6-fight-for-your-right?source=share

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x oc #steve harrington x oc #love triangle #friends to lovers #friends to enemies to lovers #canon divergence #stranger things #stranger things 4 #canon-typical violence #dual point of view #stranger things spoilers #fluff #angst

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silverhallow · 2 years ago

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🎭Fortunes Fool🎭

Chapter 6: “There is no world without Verona walls, But purgatory, torture, hell itself”

⭐️Masterlist⭐️

Prev | Next

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett

Chapter summary: Romeo learns that not is all as it seems with his Juliet

Warnings: Sophie's past...

Word count: 2697

Benedict had taken Sophie off to the secluded area at the back of the art room, where he knew they would not be disturbed for their free lesson and thankfully Sophie had been to the pharmacy on her way to work so they had been very well distracted in celebrating their new relationship status.

The rest of the day neither of them seemed to care that they were the source of the school gossip, Benedict could barely believe his luck when he got out of Art and Sophie was waiting for him, her green eyes bright with happiness as she took his hand and led him to the cafeteria for lunch.

The student population kept turning their heads and the news of Sophie flooring her rugby playing former “boyfriend” in the knees and vowing to incapacitate him further had spread through the school like wildfire. Those who hadn’t seen the incident knew about it by lunchtime.

But for the first time in her life, Sophie was pleased to be the subject of the school gossip. She was happy and Benedict had promised, after they had finished fooling around in the art room, to help her catch up with her studies.

She had applied to Oxford and Cambridge to please her father but at the time she had applied she hadn’t expected to get in but now, with Benedict helping her and actually focusing on her studies more than being distracted by John demanding her attention all the time, she was confident she had a shot. She had her entrance exams in a few weeks time and she was determined to do it.

When they finished up with classes for the day, Benedict ran down the corridor from the library to meet Sophie from her Maths class and waited for her, smiling at people he didn’t think he’d ever spoken to in his entire school career. His black eye seemed to be the topic of conversation for most of the school. He didn't care, he had his beautiful girl and he was happier than he could ever remember being.

Sophie appeared from the class, talking to the teacher about their homework and when she saw Benedict she broke into a bright smile, going up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek in front of the teacher, which made Benedict go bright red. “Shall we get over to rehearsals?” she asked.

Benedict nodded his eyes unable to meet hers or the teachers who Sophie said goodbye to as she took his hand. “What's the matter?” she asked when she saw his red cheeks and the way he’d adverted his gaze.

“Nothing, just… it’s a bit weird being kissed in front of a teacher” he admitted. He had no intentions of ever keeping anything from Sophie. His mother had always said they should be honest with anyone they date and he was not going to keep secrets from Sophie.

Sophie just smiled and giggled “that’s a bit silly don’t you think?”

“What makes you say that?” he asked

“Well given in rehearsals you’ve kissed me in front of everyone” Sophie replied

“You weren’t my girlfriend then, merely a beautiful woman i’d never spoke to” he grinned a little sheepishly.

“I will give you that. We’ve not actually had the opportunity to rehearse the kiss on stage since everything started. Do you think it will change in the performance?” she asked him.

“I don’t think so, not negatively anyway. If anything, given our relationship, it might make it all the more believable…” he said, his hand stroking little circles on her hand as they walked through the school.

“You think so?” she asked

“Well I can certainly put myself in Romeo’s shoes more about wanting to be with Juliet no matter what… i’d give up everything to be with you” he said

“Even going to Oxford or Cambridge?” Sophie asked

“Even that, you are all I need” he replied

Sophie felt her heart in her mouth. It was the first time anyone had ever put her first and she was about to tell him that but as they walked into the auditorium, Mr Graville let out a loud cry of displeasure “what is that?” he said gesturing towards Benedict.

Benedict and Sophie’s hands dropped immediately wondering if that was what he was referring to and they both started stammering, they didn’t think that them dating would be an issue for the performance.

“Not that…” Mr Granville said walking towards them “that I saw coming a mile off… i mean THAT” he said gesturing towards Benedict’s face and the black eye. “We have opening night in two weeks! THAT is not going to be gone in two weeks” he said panicking

“Sir it’s not an issue” Sophie said

“It is Miss Beckett! Romeo cannot have a black eye!! I’m going to have to get the understudy to play Romeo instead!” He said in panic mode

Benedict felt his stomach drop to his toes

“With all due respect sir. If you replace Benedict you will have to replace Juliet as well” Sophie said stubbornly.

“What?” Benedict and Mr Granville said at the same time

“I am not being Juliet without Benedict” Sophie said crossing her arms “it’s black eye, it can be covered”

“Soph be reasonable” Benedict said “it’s a week of shows…”

“How on earth can that be covered Miss Beckett, Mrs Gibbons isn’t that good at make up” Mr Granville said

“I am being reasonable Ben and it’s not a problem sir. I can cover it for him. You won’t even notice it’s there, I can assure you” Sophie said in a quiet voice, she didn’t want to go into that much detail in the middle of the school auditorium when she could feel the eyes of everyone in the play on them.

Kate was sitting talking to Anthony and she was giving her best friend a sad and encouraging smile.

“Fine, you’ve got the chance to cover it, if not i’ll have to replace you both!” Mr Granville said turning around “FRIAR! Stop flirting and get your backside backstage and into costume!” he hissed at Anthony, finding a place to take out his frustrations elsewhere.

“Sophie?” Benedict said seeing the demeanour of his girlfriend had changed.

“Not here” she said, taking his hand and leading him backstage to find a spot where she could do his makeup and hide the black eye.

Benedict let Sophie lead him out of the room towards a private spot. He knew he had to let Sophie be the one to talk here, he could just sense it so he stayed quiet. Sophie went into her bag and grabbed her makeup bag that she carried with her and without either of them saying a word, she set to work.

Her fingers moved lightly over his face with her concealer stick before Sophie finally managed to find her voice “my step mother used to hit me” she said quietly “it’s how i learned…” she said

“Soph…” he said softly, trying to keep the pity out of his voice, he had no idea, his hands stretched out and took her hand in his and squeezed “You don’t have to tell me about it if you’re not ready…” he said softly.

Sophie smiled at him, it was a weak smile but her heart squeezed at the way he was being so gentle about it and giving her the time to talk, she shook her head “I don’t want to keep secrets from you” she explained.

Benedict smiled, hoping it was reassuring “just take your time, if you can’t do it now… don’t worry okay. I won’t pressure you. Just whenever you are ready” he said with a gentle and soft tone.

Sophie felt her heart leap and her stomach flip at his words and it took every ounce of self-control not to kiss him and declare she had fallen in love with him. It was the moment, looking back at her life, that she would be able to pinpoint the moment she fell head over heels in love with Benedict.

“Thank you” she managed to get out with a hoarse whisper her emotions nearly getting the better of her so she took a deep breath and began to explain about her past

“My mum and dad weren’t married, I mean you were probably wondering why I didn’t have my dad’s surname” she said and Benedict gave a small sheepish smile in acknowledgement.

“My mum died when I was 5 and my dad tried but he was so lost in his grief over my mum so I was left to the housekeeper to raise. But when I was 9 he met Araminta Reiling…” Sophie said with a deep sad sigh.

Benedict grimaced. He didn’t know Araminta Reiling but he had known her eldest daughter. She had been a year ahead of them and she’d left last year and she’d been part of a different type of popular crowd. They had hated Sophie and Kate’s group and if Benedict remembered correctly, Kate had gotten two weeks detention for punching Rosamund but it was one of those incidents that strangely had not been subject to school gossip.

“Yeah and they were married before I was 10 but she hated me. Dad hadn’t really noticed as he was more concerned about getting me a mother to realise that she was never going to treat me like one of her own… she seemed to think my mother, because she had been a waitress whilst she was putting herself through school, was beneath them and didn’t see why she should, and I use her words here… have to house a bastard brat ” Sophie sighed

Benedict gasped “she didn’t. What did your dad say?”

“I missed that part of the conversation, I wasn’t supposed to hear that part but given he refused to let her throw me out, I’m guessing something along those lines but she fired the housekeeper and she tried to have my dad not send me here, despite him getting Rosamund in at her request…” Sophie explained

“Dad I think realised by the time I was 11 that maybe he had rushed into marriage and started travelling more for work, he had never used to… and that’s why she started to hit me” Sophie said sadly.

“It started off as little nips and shoves into things but as time went on… it got worse. Do you remember in year 8 when I came in with the broken leg?” she asked

Benedict nodded, vaguely remembering Sophie being helped around the school with her bright green cast on. The green had always made him think as he’d assumed that it would have been pink.

“She pushed me down the stairs after I refused to do Rosamund’s homework” Sophie said. “I used to be top of the class for most things, I just… I kept it quiet and pretended to be thicker than I was to get people to like me…”

“Why?” he asked her

“Because of her. I was so desperate to get Araminta to like me, to love me… that I made myself into this person. Kate went along with it because she knew how important it was to me, Kate’s the only person in the world who knows everything I went through. Her mum was best friends with my mum… they died in the same accident”

Benedict felt his heart break “Oh Soph…”

“It's why we’re so inseparable. Kate hated pity, she hated the way people would pity us and so she said when we joined this school, we would become the best versions of ourselves, we would be the opposite of the people who were in primary school when people hated us and bullied us…” Sophie let out a little sigh “though I think in the same breath people might still hate us but for different reasons”

“I don’t think anyone ever hated either of you… I guess you just always seemed so untouchable… so unattainable” he said

“I guess we thought if we protected ourselves, made ourselves aloof we wouldn’t get hurt. Kate won the step-mum lottery with Mary… and Mary always looked after me when I managed to get out of the house away from her but after Araminta threw a paperweight at me and it hit him in the eye, I had to learn to cover it up… she said if I ever told my dad she would kill me” Sophie said sadly “Kate wanted to tell him, but I made her promise never to tell another soul”

“God Sophie…” he said with all the empathy and adoration he could muster whilst fighting down the urge to go find this woman and kill her with his bare hands.

“I guess in a way it’s why I ended up dating the losers I did. I let my self-esteem get so low that I stopped caring about my grades as much, I stopped caring about anything but wanting to make her like me and I thought by dating the sports guys… that she might…” Sophie said sadly.

“I mean that’s totally understandable. How… i mean you said your dad got divorced?”

Sophie nodded “She got caught… it was just after my 17th Birthday… Dad had come home early to surprise me, he’d gotten me a first edition copy of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice whilst he was away on business as he knows how much I love English Literature and old books and he walked in just as she threw me across the room and I hit the coffee table and it smashed into loads of pieces, i’ve got small scars on my arms because of them”

“Oh fuck” Benedict said, his hands automatically moving to her arms to rub them

“I’ve never seen my dad so angry in all my life…” Sophie said “he threw her out that night, filed for divorce the following morning and said if she ever darkened our doorway again…”

“He’d kill her?” Benedict added

Sophie nodded “Good” Benedict replied “If he ever needs help hiding a body” he said as he pulled Sophie into his arms.

Sophie chuckled as she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek “thank you”

“What for?” he asked shocked

“For not running away screaming. For letting me tell you at my own speed and time” she said snuggling into his arms feeling safe and secure.

Benedict rubbed her arms and pressed a kiss to her temple “Soph, I get that it’s a big thing to tell me, to tell anyone so thank you for trusting me. I hate that you’ve had to go through this and not been able to be yourself.” he said “I know how hard it is losing a parent, I was a lot older than you were so I can only imagine what it was like at that age but it’s hard enough”

Sophie nodded,

“I can’t make the past go away, but I can promise you this” he said passionately “I will do everything in my power never to hurt you, it will never be intentional and I will never ever lay a finger on you…” he said “you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I promise to treat you like the Queen you are for as long as you will have me” he said pressing a kiss to her nose.

“Really?” Sophie asked with watery eyes.

“Really” he vowed, pressing his forehead to hers, their noses brushing against one another in an eskimo’s kiss as they held still, their hearts beating wildly together in time with one another lost in the tenderness of the moment.

It was perfect and it was still and it meant more to them both than they had realised.

Until the door burst open and a rather annoyed looking Mr Granville stood there “We have a show to put on! You can canoodle all you want after!!”

Sophie burst into fits of giggles as Benedict practically jumped out of his skin at the door flying over, their moment over but leaving it’s mark on their hearts for the rest of their lives.

#fortune's fool #beauty and the geek au #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #benophie #benedict x sophie #anthony bridgerton

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average-incorrect-walrus · 3 years ago

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Christine: Are you a satanist?

Rich *drawing pentagrams*: Yes

Christine: Cool

#source: a conversation I had with a girl in math class #I was Rich btw #bmc incorrect quote #be more chill incorrect quote #bmc #be more chill #bmc christine #bmc rich #rich goranski #christine canigula #be more chill musical #bmc musical #tw satan

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greetings-and-salutations · 3 years ago

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“Get Your F*cking Hands Off Her, A*shole!”

Eli “Hawk” Moskowitz x Reader

COBRA KAI CATCH-UP DUMP

Masterlist

(Gif not mine)

Requested? No

Summary: It was an unspoken rule around West Valley High that (Y/n) (Y/l/n) was completely and utterly off limits. No one dared test the boundaries when it came to that rule, for fear that her Mohawk-clad boyfriend would go all Cobra Kai on them. Of course, every now and again, a newbie didn’t get the memo…

Warnings: starred out swear words, overprotective Hawk, creepy dude making (Y/n) uncomfy, prejudice against “North Hills” with a substantial lack of reasoning to back it up 😬😂, lack of adherence to plot line of the source material

Pairing: Eli “Hawk” Moskowitz x Fem!Reader

IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE 😬😬 I’m trying to get back on schedule as soon as possible, I promise! 👌👌👌

Eli Moskowitz and (Y/n) (Y/l/n) were in love. Everyone knew it, and, because of Eli’s status in their school’s hierarchy as “Hawk” the “Cobra King,” no one dared refute it. It was a system that worked. An unspoken line, if you will, that, when crossed, was swiftly dealt with. And the perpetrator never did it again. Hawk made sure of that.

But there were still some who, to them, the pretty girl in math class was simply the pretty girl in math class. Nothing more. No ties to a Mohawked gang leader, and certainly no harm in asking her out on a date this weekend. Perhaps to the movies? There was a pretty cool drive in just across town…

“That’s a bad idea.” Toby turned to look at the girl who’d spoken, an embarrassed expression on his face at having been caught staring, before he crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, in an attempt to cover it up.

“What?” He asked, glaring at her, annoyed by her unhelpful interjection in something that clearly didn’t involve her. He didn’t know who she was, being the new kid usually meant that was the case, but, Toby could already tell, whoever this girl was, she wasn’t someone he wanted to be spending his time with. She gave him the heebie jeebies, and not in the good way. Her face suddenly transformed into a smirk, before she gestured towards where his eyes had been trained just moments before.

“You’re staring at (Y/n) right?” She asked her own gaze taking in the sight of the girl at her locker just down the hall. Toby cringed a little, having hoped he’d been a tad more discreet, but this creepy girl had seen right through him.

“So?” He asked, defensively, wondering what exactly she wanted from him, landing on simply “picking on the new guy,” before she opened her mouth and spoke again.

“Yeah. That’s not gonna happen. Trust me, dude.” She replied, vaguely, but Toby just rolled his eyes, not believing her for a second.

“Who even are you?” He asked rudely, but the girl just laughed, an unsettling sound that left Toby’s skin crawling.

“Tory with a y.” She answered, as if he should know. (He didn’t.) “Listen, newbie.” She pouted sarcastically, before patting his shoulder. “I get it. You don’t know how things work around here.” Her patting ceased as she grabbed his shoulders, rather harshly turning him back towards the math class girl; towards (Y/n). “But I’m telling you right now, She’s not someone you wanna mess with.” Toby scoffed, his patience for this conversation wearing thin, as he pulled out of Tory’s grip.

“She seems harmless.” He said, before turning away from (Y/n) and towards his unwanted companion. “You, however, weird me out, so I’m gonna go talk to (Y/n). Bye, now.” He began to walk off, heading towards the girl’s locker and mentally psyching himself up as he did, before a loud voice called out after him.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Tory yelled, but Toby just rolled his eyes again, before mumbling under his breath.

“You can’t tell me what to do, psycho…”

+ + +

“And then I told him that if he tried to do that again I was gonna take his face and-“

“Hey, Hawk!” The boy turned around when Tory’s voice sounded over the conversation, an annoyed look on his face at being interrupted.

“What is it?” He spat angrily, causing Tory to raise her hands in mock defense.

“Just thought you’d wanna know I just saw the new guy practically eye-banging your girl in the hallway.” She said casually, but Hawk’s heart stopped all the same.

“What?” He asked, through gritted teeth, hoping he’d heard her wrong. But Tory just nodded her head.

“Some dude. Troy or Tanner or something. New kid. Just moved here from North Hills or some sh*t.” She was still talking but, past the point of confirmation, Hawk was done listening.

“Where is he now?” He asked, his fists clenched, itching to do to this new kid what he’d been about to describe before Tory’s interruption. Nobody messed with his (Y/n)…

“Last I saw he was headed towards (Y/n)’s locker. Something about asking her out?”And that was when Hawk snapped.

“The he*l he is!” (Y/n) was HIS girlfriend. Everyone knew that. Who did he think he was? This punk coming in and trying to cheat the system, and steal away HAWK’S girl? This Troy, or Tanner, or whatever-the-f*ck his name was, was gonna pay. And Hawk was gonna make sure of it.

“I’m gonna go deal with this sh*thead. Beat his a*s…”

+ + +

“You’re (Y/n), right?” (Y/n) (Y/l/n) spun around quickly at the voice, confused as she didn’t recognize it, before coming face to face with the new kid she vaguely remembered from one of her earlier classes. She smiled politely, before responding.

“Yeah, that’s me.” She agreed, before a frown reached her face. “I’m sorry I don’t-“ She began apologizing for not recalling his name, but the boy cut her off with a shrug, leaning against the locker beside hers and effectively boxing her in, though (Y/n) assumed it was unintentional.

“Toby. I just moved here.” (Y/n) nodded along at his words, as she took a small step back, only for her foot to collide with the metal of a locker door.

“Toby… hi.”

“Hi…” (Y/n) wondered what exactly it was that he wanted, or whether it was just to introduce himself. But if that was the case, why hadn’t he left yet?

“Did you need something?” She asked, hoping she didn’t come off as rude or anything, though if she did, he didn’t point it out, or do anything really other than shake his head while laughing at himself.

“Sh*t, yeah. Um, I was actually wondering…” He trailed off, his eyes meeting hers in an intense gaze that she was both unwilling and unable to reciprocate. “Well, you’re really pretty, ya know…” (Y/n) didn’t like where this was going. She made to carefully remove his arm from the locker, so that she could walk away, but Toby apparently wasn’t finished, and reached for her wrist, holding it tightly in his grip to keep her in place. “Hold on just a second!” (Y/n)’s eyes widened in shock. “I dunno… I was sorta thinkin-“

“Get your f*cking hands off her, a*shole!”

+ + +

If Hawk wasn’t already seeing red at just the idea of someone he didn’t know flirting with (Y/n), the sight of her being held up against a locker with that frightened look on her face would surely have done it. And it did, for the next move Hawk made was not something that he would have ever done in front of his girlfriend had the situation not demanded it…

“Get your f*cking hands off her, a*shole!” It was like time had slowed down, and there was no one in the room but them; Hawk, and the sleezeball touching his girl.

The new guy spun around, his expression clearly annoyed, until he noticed the murderous one pointed back at him. His face dropped in worry.

“Look, dude. I dunno what you think-“ He began (trying to explain himself, perhaps?), but Hawk’s attention remained on his hand… that had yet to move.

“Oh I know exactly what I think!” He practically growled, stepping forward threateningly. “I think you’ve got your sh*tty North Hills hands all over my girlfriend, and if you don’t let go right now I’m gonna send you back to North Hills; only this time it’ll be in a body bag!” On a normal day, Hawk would’ve smirked at the “I just wet myself” look that had suddenly appeared on the dopes face, but this wasn’t a normal day. On a normal day, if some douche bag decided to mess with Hawk they’d do it directly, not through (Y/n). There was a level of respect there, at least for the girl. Because, everyone knew, messing with him was on thing, but (Y/n)? Practically a death sentence.

“I-I didn’t know-“ The new guy stuttered out, his grip finally releasing from (Y/n)’s skin, the girl slipping away from him and behind her boyfriend the moment she was able. Hawk felt her small hands tighten against the back of his hoodie and his angry frown deepened.

“Oh “you-you didn’t know”?” He mocked, carefully removing his girlfriends fingers from his clothes and advancing towards the other boy, nothing stopping him now from cracking this dweebs skull. He’d teach him not to mess with his girl again…

+ + +

Smack!

“Ow!”

Crunch!

Pop!

“Ughhhhhhhh…”

Crack!

“Stop, please!”

Hawk dropped the bruised and bloody body of the new kid harshly on the floor, before standing over him, his breathing heavy. (Y/n)’s eyes were wide. She’d never seen this side of him before. Sure, she knew he got into fights. She had to clean him up after them all the time. But he usually made it a point to keep her out of them. Though, (Y/n) supposed there wasn’t much way to keep her out of this one, since it happened over her. She frowned, suddenly feeling immensely guilty.

“If I see you anywhere near her again, we’ll be back here. Got it?” He snarled, his back now to (Y/n), which she appreciated, as she wasn’t sure she wanted to see his face look like that. She liked the soft way her Eli looked at her. She didn’t think she’d be too fond of visions of angry Hawk intruding her lovesick thoughts. “I said: Do. You. Understand!?!” (Y/n) watched the guy nod his head so fast she thought it might fall off, before scrambling to his feet. Hawk turned to make his way towards his friends and his girl, calling back over his shoulder as he did. “Now, get outta here before I change my mind.”

+ + +

“You okay, Princess?” Hawk had cooled down a little at the look on her face, hating that he’d contributed to it, but also knowing he’d had to do what he did. (Y/n) nodded slightly, though she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Hawk frowned, worried she was upset with him about the fight, though he couldn’t fathom why. That douchebag was hurting her. He’d just put a stop to it like any good boyfriend would. Speaking of…

“Can I see?” He gestured towards her wrist, receiving a small noise of agreement. He reached for her hand, his anger gradually returning as he took in the obvious fingerprints against her smooth skin. He tried to calm himself down, talking a deep breath before leaning down to press a soft kiss to her wrist.

“You’re gonna have a bruise.” He mumbled against her skin. But (Y/n) just shrugged.

“I don’t care.” Hawk sighed, running his hand down the side of his face anxiously.

“(Y/n)… you know I had to, right?” He asked, watching her face carefully as it changed, relief washing over him as she slowly nodded her head.

“I know… I just wanna go home. Can we?” She looked up at him with a small pout that Hawk was quick to agree to.

“Course, (Y/n/n). We can do anything you want.” He promised with a soft smile that dated back to his Eli days and was reserved exclusively for her. (Y/n) grinned a little, though Hawk wasn’t sure what was so funny. He wasn’t gonna comment on it though, just happy he’d got her smiling again.

“Ice cream?” She asked hopefully, earning a chuckle from her boyfriend, as his arm wrapped around her shoulder and he steered her towards the door.

“Sure, Princess. Whatever you want.”

Tag lists are open!!!

Tags: @electriclcvewp @kaqua @nickangel13

#Countdown to Cobra Kai Season 5 #cobra kai fanfic #eli cobra kai #hawk cobra kai #cobra kai hawk #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai fic #hawk moskowitz x reader #hawk moskowitz #eli hawk moskowitz #eli moskowitz fanfic #eli moskowitz fanfiction #eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz

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forevfangirlwrites · 2 years ago

Text

play stupid games, win stupid prizes

“Hey Princess.”

She tries to hold back an audible groan while pointedly ignoring what has become the bane of her existence, Percy Jackson.

“What do you want, Jackson?” Thalia retorts, rolling her eyes.

Out of the corner of her eye, she catches his grin. “What?” he continues. “The princess can’t answer for herself?”

“Do you need something?” she huffs, turning towards him with her arms crossed. (One of these days, ignoring him will work.)

“She speaks!”

“Percy!” She’s so fed-up with this.

He raises an eyebrow. “Oooh, spicy. I didn’t know you wanted me like that!”

One of these days, she’s going to give in to the impulsive thought and strangle him.

“In your dreams, Jackson,” she retorts, happy to see him frown at the answer.

“Do you have the math notes?” he asks, finally getting to the point.

“Why would I give them to you?”

Percy smiles. “You know, you’re pretty feisty for a quiet girl.”

She does not care to explain to Percy that she’s not that quiet, he’s just obnoxious. Plus, he never misses an opportunity to provoke her.

“Because I asked the teacher and she said to ask you,” he continues after she doesn’t say anything.

“Impossible!” There’s no way Mrs. Clark would do her dirty like that…right?

Percy shrugs. “Ask her yourself. Why would I make this up?” He leans closer to her, causing her to lean back.

“I don’t enjoy talking to you either,” he whispers.

She rolls her eyes. His story isn’t entirely plausible, but retorting would just continue this already unwanted conversation, so she gives in.

“Fine, I’ll send you pictures.”

“Today would be nice.”

“Then I’ll send them tomorrow.”

Percy rolls his eyes but, thankfully, starts to walk away. “You better not be the reason I fail math!” he calls.

“Oh please, you’re the reason you’re failing math!” she shouts back.

And that’s on getting the last word.

Thalia, who’s had to suffer through this conversation on the side, looks approvingly at her. “I’m proud of you.”

Annabeth smiles. She might not be the most sociable person ever, but she can hold her own. Well, with Percy Jackson she has to, so she’s getting better with it.

Which is good, because the world likes to test her patience with him by not only putting him in her math class, but in adjacent classrooms for at least three other subjects, which means she has to see him throughout the day.

And when she walks into the homecoming committee after school, the world decides to test her patience even more.

Being a senior (and one of Mr. Brunner’s favorites) she runs the homecoming committee. She used to be in a few other after school activities, but this year she decided to go all in an as the committee president. Needless to say, it’s her favorite club, it’s nice and peac—

A knock on the door interrupts them before they can even properly begin, and she turns to see Mr. D standing at the door.

What is the principal doing here?

“Alright,” he begins in a somewhat bored voice when all eyes land on him. “In an effort to modify our punishment system, I have a new member for your committee.”

When Percy Jackson appears in view, she has to bite her cheek from saying something. Of course he would find a way to infiltrate her one source of—

“You have to help them,” Mr. D instructs, waving a hand over the classroom, before turning around and walking away.

“Right,” Mr. Brunner says, the only person who seems unperturbed by the turn of events. “Percy, please take a seat.”

Percy’s eyes scan the room, she waits for them to reach her. His reaction upon finding her is immediate, he smirks for a second before slumping into the nearest seat.

Mr. Brunner turns to the rest of them. There aren’t too many people—Rachel, Will, Nico and the Stoll twins, who (along with her) are the only seniors in the group.

“Alright everyone,” Mr. Brunner starts. “It’s good to have another pair of hands, as you know the pep rally is approaching in two months, so we need to get started.” He turns towards her with a smile.

“Annabeth, since you’re organizing all this and you still need another MC, I’m assigning Percy to help you.”

KEEP READING ON AO3

A/N: New book everyone! Hope you like it!

#percy and annabeth #percabeth #percabeth fic #percabeth au #enemies to lovers

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andypantsx3 · 5 years ago

Text

conspire | 4 | confession

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 13,307 words / 5 chapters

summary: Shouto Todoroki had definitely only asked you out in order to ward off his horde of interested suitors. So why does he keep actually taking you out on suspiciously realistic dates?

tags: romance, reader-insert, fake dating, misunderstandings

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

Your confusion only grew over the next few weeks.

Shouto continued taking you out on dates, continued to meet you for homework, and--strangely--continued to kiss you even when you were sure no one was around, though he never found another opportunity to put his hands all over you again.

You found yourself more confused than ever, one night when you were doing homework together, curled up in the lounge of the 3-A dorms. You had mostly separate classes but you shared a core curriculum, and Shouto had proved especially helpful on the subject of literature, which predictably was much less your area of expertise than math and the sciences. You supposed there was something to be said for being raised as a rich boy, when he knew every scrap of classical literature inside and out, and you used him to your advantage shamelessly.

“You know, you don’t need to keep doing all this,” you said that night, pausing over a worksheet.

Shouto looked up from his reading curiously. “What?”

“All these dates and stuff,” you said, fidgeting a little under his watchful gaze. “You don’t need to keep taking me out.”

“Do you not like it?” he asked, brow furrowing.

“No, that’s not--it’s nice,” you said, noting something in the margins of your worksheet so you didn’t have to look at his face. “It’s just, it’s not like you need to impress me.”

“I like doing it,” he said in his characteristically straightforward manner. He set his book down and leaned forward. “I like spending the time with you.”

Your face flamed. “I like spending the time with you, too.”

“Then it’s settled,” he announced imperiously, going back to his homework.

You’d settled back down to your worksheet as well, but something kept bothering you, wondering why he continued to find it necessary to spend so much time with you when the semester was winding down and graduation was rapidly approaching. He had only so much time with his own friends left, and as much as you liked the time you were spending together, you knew it wouldn’t last beyond that.

The thought made you a little sad, now that you were focused on it. Fake dating Shouto had been pretty amazing and you loved the time you’d spent in his company, enjoying all the unexpected ways that he flagrantly flauted what was typically thought of as his sexy ice prince persona. Shouto as a person was actually fun to be around -- smart, straightforward, and more awkward and mischievous than he was given credit for. He was unexpectedly hot tempered but was mostly patient with you, and he seemed to find your tendency to ramble soothing rather than annoying, letting you do a lot of the talking when the two of you were together.

You hoped that you would stay friends past graduation, even if you wouldn’t be spending every spare minute together in the interest of keeping up appearances.

A strange feeling followed you through your next date, a warm spring evening when he took you out for cold soba. You couldn't seem to focus on anything other than how much you enjoyed being with him, how easy the conversation was, how adorable he looked with his cheeks stuffed full of noodles. You couldn't stop thinking about how much you wanted this to last, how much you never wanted graduation to come. You realized with some alarm what it all meant when you returned to your dorm and he kissed you stupid outside the door.

You had feelings for him.

Panic gripped you over the next couple of days and you wondered wildly what you should do about this new discovery. The longer you thought about it, the more embarrassed you were to discover that you’d most likely liked him from the beginning, from the moment he’d sat down to your pair project and launched into a thoughtful question. Of course you’d been willing to go along with his little scheme if it meant you could be close to him, and that fucking senior project was hardly the excuse you’d pretended.

You’d been dating a boy you were maybe in love with for months, only none of it was real.

Finally, one evening in late March, as you were putting the finishing touches on a prototype of Shouto’s support item, a plan presented itself to you. You thought you knew what you wanted to do, but you needed advice.

You couldn’t talk to Shouto about this yet, not until you were entirely sure, but there were people close to him who might be willing to volunteer their opinions. You were certain that Shouto had at least let his closest friends in on his little scheme, so you wouldn’t be letting the cat out of the bag if you talked to one of them.

The next afternoon found you at the 3-A dorms again, having ducked Shouto’s quirk training to come find a potential source of help: Momo Yaoyorozu.

Momo was thankfully downstairs when you arrived, in the kitchen putting together an afternoon snack of biscuits and wielding a tin of very expensive looking tea. Her hair was down out of its usual meticulous, high ponytail, and her long hair made her look somehow even more intimidating and queenly than usual.

She caught sight of your nervous figure and gave you a bright smile.

“Hi Y/N,” she chirped and you gave her a little wave. “Shouto’s not here right now.”

You shook your head. “I actually came to see you, if you have a minute? I need help with something.”

She eyed you curiously, then slowly reached for another scoop of tea leaves. “Am I wrong to guess tea would help?”

You nodded, feeling weirdly like a preteen about to have the talk with her mother. “Sure, thank you.”

She pulled out another cup and added more water to the kettle. You watched her gather everything quietly, trying to figure out the best way to broach the subject. She pulled out another biscuit and poured water over the leaves, finally gathering up both cups, gesturing you over to the lounge.

“Did Shouto do something to upset you?” she asked once you’d settled into the loveseat, warm mug in hand. “He can be rather blunt.”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” you said, scratching a fingertip against the ceramic. “It’s just…” you paused, tentative, then decided what the hell. “I have feelings for him.”

Momo shot you a concerned look. “What?”

“I know,” you agreed miserably, fingers tightening on the mug. “It just happened, I didn’t expect--”

“No, wait,” Momo said, something like confusion creasing her delicate brow. “What do you mean you have feelings for him? Isn’t that normal?”

You threw her a wild look. Was it normal to catch feelings for your counterfeit boyfriend? Had she been in a situation like this before?

“Have you fake dated someone before?” you asked.

Momo’s jaw dropped. “Fake dated?”

A suspicion settled over you like a dark cloud. “Momo, has Shouto not told you we’re not really dating?”

Her dark eyes widened. “Shouto told me he’d asked you out on Valentine’s Day. He’d never said that any of it was a ruse. Why ever would he ask you to pretend to date him?”

“To fend off Himari,” you admitted, embarrassed, “among others. He did it because none of those girls would leave him alone on Valentine’s Day. I was with him when Himari confessed to him and he used me as a cover. I think it’s only until graduation, though.”

Momo looked thoughtful. “He never told me. He’s talked often of your time together but he’s never admitted as much to me. Shouto has always had this problem and it seems strange that he’d try this now, of all times. Are you sure he’s only dating you to fend off girls?”

You nodded. What other reason would he have? You were shocked that he hadn’t told her. “I’m sure.”

She looked troubled. “It just doesn’t seem like him.” She paused. “So, you’re saying that he doesn’t have feelings for you...but that you might have feelings for him?”

You cringed and took a bracing sip of your tea, embarrassment welling up inside you. “Yes.”

She stared down into her tea cup. “And you’re wondering what you should do about it.”

You nodded again.

She sighed. “I can’t pretend to know what the best thing to do is in this scenario. I just can’t believe Shouto would do something like this.”

You leaned forward, steeling your nerves. “Momo, I was thinking of telling him. I know he’d like this to go on through graduation but I don’t think I can pretend to date him when I actually really like him. It’s too overwhelming.”

You paused, fighting down an embarrassed blush. “What I came here to ask was if you think he would still be able to be friends with me, after. I know it might be weird for a little bit, but I think he’s kind enough. I just….wanted to confirm, with someone who’s known him for a lot longer.”

She watched you silently for a long moment, her fingers pale against her own tea cup. “Shouto is many things, but intentionally cruel is not one of them. I can’t promise that he wouldn’t hurt your feelings--you know how blunt he can be--but I don’t think he’d want to stop being your friend.”

A little relieved sobbing hiccup went through you and you quickly stuffed your face back into your tea cup to hide it, washing it down with a steadying sip.

“Thanks,” you said when you felt you could finally manage it. “That’s all I really wanted to hear.”

She gave you a fond smile. “Glad I could help.”

You took another sip of tea and Momo followed, the two of you descending into a companionable silence. A sudden thought weighed on you.

“Momo, do you know why Shouto may not have asked you instead? I know you two are close, it seems like he might have been better off asking you for the favor.”

Momo gazed into her cup thoughtfully. “I suppose he could have. I don’t know why he wouldn’t.”

You considered that. Was there some reason Shouto didn’t want to alter the nature of his relationship with Momo? Some reason that could also play into why he didn’t tell her you were fake dating in the first place?

….was Shouto maybe not trying to fend off suitors, but instead trying to make Momo jealous?

You entertained the thought for about thirty seconds, then dismissed it. Shouto wasn’t like that.

Honestly, after getting to know him as well as you had, it was surprising that he’d even schemed up the fake dating thing at all, considering how straightforward he was. It seemed wildly unlikely that if Shouto did have feelings for someone, that he wouldn’t just come out and tell them.

“I do know he spoke very highly of you after that project you did together. That’s why…when he told me he’d asked you out, it just made sense. Shouto doesn’t usually take to people that easily,” Momo said.

You fought down a blush. Maybe that’s why he’d asked you instead of Momo. He liked you enough but you hadn't known each other well, so asking for your help wouldn’t damage the fundamental nature of a close relationship. It made a certain sort of sense, you supposed.

The sound of foot falls just outside distracted you and you sat up as the door creaked open. Momo’s eyes betrayed a note of panic, and you looked over your shoulder to catch sight of Shouto toeing off his boots at the door. He looked a little unkempt and windswept from quirk training -- his hair a little rumpled and his skin glowing with sweat.

Your thoughts instantly dried up. Damn he looked good.

Shouto startled a little at the sight of you camped out with Momo. Then the small, secretive smile he sometimes wore curled the edge of his mouth. “Y/N, what are you doing here?”

You panicked. Crap. What was an appropriate response? You and Momo didn't even have anything in common other than Shouto. What would distract from being hand held through a romantic crisis?

“Talking shit about you,” you blurted. “I’m putting together a hit squad for what you did with the ice wave the other week. I did promise murder.”

You watched with satisfaction as Shouto’s eyes narrowed a little. Bingo.

He came stalking over, his manner shifting into something predatory. “I seem to recall coming to a mutually satisfying resolution.”

The tips of your ears went hot and your toes curled in your socks. “Uh, must have slipped my mind.”

A strong arm hooked over your waist from the back of the couch and that scent of mint washed over you, slightly muted by the scent of grass and sweat. Shouto pulled you up into his arms, a stern look on his face. “It seems I’ll have to remind you then. Momo, you’ll have to excuse us.”

He didn’t wait for a response, carrying you over to the staircase to the boy’s dorms. Over one broad shoulder, you could see Momo staring after you, her pink mouth parted in shock. She looked absolutely bewildered, her face a perfect illustration of your own feelings. What did Shouto think he was doing?

It took you hours to come back to this thought, or any thought at all. Shouto spent a long time reminding you of your mutual resolution, kissing you absolutely boneless against the sheets of his bed, and then very sweetly walked you back to your dorm. It was only after you'd shut the door behind him and started up the stairs to your own room that you thought back to the look on Momo’s face. It must have seemed to her that Shouto had no idea of the boundaries of a fake relationship; she must have wondered if you had even been honest with her in the first place.

As hard as it must have been for her to wrap her mind around, it was harder for you.

You didn’t know how or why Shouto was behaving this way with you, if the relationship was truly so casual to him that slipping into the mannerisms of a real relationship meant little, but you knew this meant you had to come clean. Shouto had to know how you really felt about him.

One week and you would finish his support item. One week and you would draw up the courage to tell him everything. One week, and you would break things off with Shouto Todoroki.

#bnha #bnha x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #fanfic #todoroki x reader #boku no hero academia #todoroki shouto

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melanielocke · 4 years ago

Text

Lost in the Shadows - Epilogue

AO3

Taglist: @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised

Previous Chapter: Chapter 35

This is the epilogue and final chapter. While there are some loose ends and I might write a sequel one day, I have currently have no plans for one so it would take some time. As it is I'm working on a Frozen TLH story (chapter 1-3 are currently published), and one post CoI story titled "We bury the sunlight" so look out for those.

Alastair decided to move in with Jem at the end of the summer. He had managed to finish decorating his bedroom just in time for the first week of university, which he was excited about starting. He wasn’t sure why, but he’d expected Jem to be overbearing and constantly worrying about his mental health. He’d always thought that was what a psychiatrist did, he guessed, just like his father had always feared Jem would know about his alcoholism from just looking at him.

He’d learnt that wasn’t the case. Jem was a doctor, he couldn’t read minds, and although he was there for Alastair when he needed him, he was family and not his doctor, which was an important distinction. Jem gave him lots of space, and the ground rules were mainly about keeping everything clean, which was no problem. Jem also preferred it to know if someone he didn’t know was visiting, but that rarely happened since Alastair only had a few friends and the only one who hadn’t known Jem before was Kamala.

It was nice, having so much space to himself. Jem had changed a lot about the house, it didn’t look like an exact copy of the house he’d lived in when he was very young. Cordelia and his mother still lived with Risa, with him gone it fit a bit better, but they were in the process of getting the house back.

He saw Thomas regularly, and they had sleep overs once a week. Alastair had bought a new double bed for his room mainly so they could share the bed. Thomas was currently adapting to student life, but had vowed to Alastair that he would not drink any alcohol. Alastair worried that would severely limit Thomas’ social life, but secretly he was very happy Thomas would do that for him. Lucie had also decided they would all start playing DnD with her, and although Alastair still didn’t understand much of the game, they had fun. Thomas, who had been in Lucie’s previous campaign as well, had helped him with his character. Right now, the group consisted of Lucie as the story teller, or dungeon master as the game called it, and Thomas, Cordelia, Kamala, Eugenia and him as the players. Alastair played a warlock, which he felt suited him. Warlocks also got nightmares they never asked for all the time and were constantly exhausted, not to mention they made deals with otherworldly beings. Perhaps it fit a little too well.

He’d also decided to take lessons in ballroom dancing, with Kamala as his dance partner at the student dance association. He almost had something that resembled a social life, which was both very new and very weird. As it was, they both were quite good at dancing. Kamala had taken two years of dance classes too, although it had been years, and together they could figure out what they remembered and how to do it. Both had been forced by their father at the time and it was much more enjoyable now that they’d chosen to pick it up again, not to mention it was nice having a dance partner he matched well with.

Thomas was still considering starting dancing, but finding a partner who was tall enough for him would be a struggle. Alastair could follow decently and dance with Thomas, although he still noticed the height difference, but with the lack of men in dancing most teachers would rather pair Thomas with the tallest girl available.

He felt like for the first time in years, he was sort of happy? Happier than he used to be at least. He still had nightmares, flashbacks, all that, and didn’t think it was going away anytime soon. If anything, EMDR made it harder, but that was to be expected. He’d known that during EMDR he’d have to talk about everything, and although in time that would make it better, at first it just brought everything to the surface. He’d learnt not to plan anything else on days he had EMDR, except maybe cuddling with Thomas.

Although relationships were still new to him, any relationships really, he was getting more accustomed to having people around who cared about him. Not just Thomas, but Lucie and Cordelia, who had just started their last year of school and came to him for help with their math homework, Kamala and Eugenia, who he’d been spending time with at the dance studio. He often visited the Lightwoods too, and he felt welcome there. Gideon and Sophie had made a habit out of inviting him along with any family outings. He’d never felt so welcome before, it had taken some time to work through that.

‘You’re going to love my gift, I promise.’

Tomorrow was Alastair’s nineteenth birthday, and Thomas was sleeping over the night before.

‘What is it?’ Alastair asked.

‘A surprise.’

‘It was worth a try,’ Alastair said. ‘How was your visit at Matthew today?’

Alastair had spoken to Matthew once. He didn’t think the two of them would ever be good friends, but they could move past school and tolerate each other’s presence. Thomas had spent the day with him today, shopping. Matthew apparently loved clothes even more than Alastair did, and had an unusual and extravagant taste.

‘Awkward,’ Thomas said.

Alastair frowned. ‘Why was it awkward?’

‘Well, he’s the only other man I know who is interested in men and has previous, uh, experience. So I figured I’d ask what to expect and what to do. It was a very uncomfortable conversation.’

Alastair started laughing. ‘You could have just asked me.’

‘I know, but I thought it would be nicer for you if I had some idea of what I’m supposed to be doing,’ Thomas said.

Alastair put his hand in Thomas’ hair. ‘That’s sweet.’

‘From now on I’ll be asking you my questions,’ Thomas said. ‘Of course, the internet has also been helpful.’

‘As long as you know where to get your information,’ Alastair said. ‘Porn isn’t real and not a good source. But I don’t mind if there’s things you don’t know yet, because I know enough.’

They had sex for the first time that night. Alastair felt it was the right time. Of course, having sex the night before his birthday wasn’t new to him. The previous years he’d spend with Charles ever since he’d turned sixteen. It was far better with Thomas. Not because of experience or anything like that, but because Alastair felt comfortable, because he was absolutely sure he wanted it and felt like he could ask Thomas to stop if he wasn’t comfortable anymore. Thomas was a little clumsy, but Alastair didn’t mind. He would get better at it with some practice.

The next morning, they went to the Victoria and Albert museum. It was early on a week day and neither of them had classes today. Thomas had been surprised at first by how empty his schedule was but had ultimately discovered much of his free time was spent on assignments and preparing for lectures and classes. Fortunately, it did mean they could easily plan such trips on times it wouldn’t be crowded. Alastair still didn’t like crowds and didn’t think he ever would. Thomas had grown over his fear of them, but he also preferred the quiet. It was much nicer this way, taking his time to let a piece of art wash over him, undisturbed by other visitors. Thomas made the occasional comment. He’d taken art history in school and could name the different styles and put works in the context of the time period. Alastair didn’t say much in response, just nodded. He felt he didn’t have to.

Thomas had promised him his gift after coming back from the museum, and Alastair was starting to get curious. Thomas had hidden the gift somewhere in Jem’s house, so Alastair wouldn’t even be able to guess from the shape. He hadn’t bothered to look for it, but had been tempted. As much as he liked the small smile on Thomas’ lips as he said ‘not yet, mi Cielo,’ Alastair was not fond of surprises. He liked to know what to expect with a three to five workdays advance notice for anything out of the usual.

‘You’d think no one has ever given you a birthday gift before,’ Thomas said. He paused. ‘Wait, is that it? Did you not usually receive gifts?’

‘No, I did, from my mother and sometimes Cordelia.’

Charles too, Charles had had a habit of giving him expensive gifts. Or gifts he’d found among his mother’s things, he guessed. Alastair had not seen him again now that he was back in London, for which he was grateful. Gideon had spoken with Charles and told him he knew what he’d done and wasn’t welcome at his house anymore. Apparently Charles had been very angry about that, but Gideon had told Alastair he was welcome anytime and it was his responsibility to guarantee his safety. Alastair appreciated that.

‘Have you been asking them about it all this time too?’ Thomas asked.

‘No just you. But you made a big deal out of it by hiding it someplace here,’ Alastair said.

‘Alright, I guess you can open it,’ Thomas said, who left and came back to the living room carrying a very big box.

Alastair carefully opened the wrapping paper, making sure nothing tore. He wasn’t sure why exactly, but he’d always opened gifts this way, as if he intended to reuse the paper, something he’d never done.

‘I thought, with how impatient you were, you’d rip it all apart,’ Thomas said.

‘No,’ Alastair said.

‘You can rip it, it’s no problem,’ Thomas said as Alastair was struggling to get a piece of sticky tape off without damaging anything.

‘No,’ Alastair said, even more determined to get everything off properly.

Once he’d gotten it open and folded away the colorful wrapping paper, Alastair revealed something that resembled a hamster cage, but bigger. There were two floors, the top open and the bottom offering a little more darkness with a little home in there an animal could hide in. There was a wheel, several balls, and a little hedgehog plushie.

‘I know you were planning to get a pet hedgehog, so I researched what it needs. This has most things it needs to live in, you just might need to add a heat lamp because hedgehogs need a warm environment.’

‘I’d been looking into what I’d need too,’ Alastair said. ‘Jem is alright with me getting a hedgehog as long as I make sure to keep Church away from him. That shouldn’t be a problem, as I would put the hedgehog in my bedroom and Church doesn’t go there.’

‘How is Church?’ Thomas asked.

‘Usually, he is wherever I’m not. He doesn’t come into my bedroom. In the living room it can be a bit more of a struggle, as he likes to claim his space, and no matter where I sit, he gets upset because that’s the spot he wanted for himself. The only moment he tolerates me is when I’m accompanying Jem on the piano.’

Alastair had picked up playing music again after years and he tried to practice for half an hour daily. Sometimes with Thomas, singing his songs and playing more modern music. But he also played classical music with Jem, who was exceptional at the violin. Jem could probably have been a concert violinist if he hadn’t chosen to become a doctor instead.

‘Sounds like Church,’ Thomas said. ‘He won’t be a danger to your hedgehog, will he?’

‘I will keep my hedgehog in my bedroom,’ Alastair said. ‘If I make sure to keep the door closed when I’m not there, I think it’s unlikely Church will even go there. Even then there’s a cover for this hedgehog home and a little house for him to hide, and of course a hedgehog can roll into a little ball of quills. I think it’ll be fine. And my therapist thought it might be good for me to get a pet, as long as I am confident I can care for it of course. Now, can you help me think of a name? I’m not great with names.’

‘You and Cordelia have been arguing about baby names for weeks now,’ Thomas pointed out.

‘Yes, the baby should have a beautiful Persian name,’ Alastair said. ‘For pets it’s different.’

‘Or dnd characters,’ Thomas added.

‘So what if my character has my middle name?’

‘No, I like it,’ Thomas said. ‘Esfandiyar. It’s a beautiful name. For a pet I think a shorter name is better. I think your plushie hedgehog is called Mr. Prickly?’

‘I named him when I was a child,’ Alastair said. ‘I’m not naming my pet something stupid.’

‘No little pipsqueak?’ Thomas said with a grin.

Alastair rolled his eyes. ‘Absolutely not.’

***

‘You mean to say you forgot to buy Alastair a gift for his birthday?’ Lucie asked.

‘I didn’t forget,’ Cordelia said. ‘I planned to do it today, after school. How was I supposed to know I was going to get detention?’

They entered the bookstore, certain she could find something Alastair would like here.

‘Sorry I couldn’t get you out,’ Lucie said. ‘Even my dad can’t do that, but he knows it was completely unfair.’

Cordelia shrugged. ‘I finished my homework. But I’m still pissed.’

She knew teachers tended to be harsher on her, Alastair had always had the same problem, and she usually made a point to behave but she also wasn’t going to let people just walk over her girlfriend. So what if she’d gotten into a fight with a bully? He’d started it, but that’s not how the teacher who’d broken them apart saw it.

‘Alastair will understand,’ Cordelia added. ‘He was often sent to detention unfairly too. Now, which of these books do you think he’ll like?’

‘Both seem pretty good,’ Lucie said. ‘What are they about?’

‘This one’s called Malice, and is a Sleeping Beauty retelling focused on Alyce, the dark grace with powers similar to the original evil witch who cursed the princesses, and she might be the villain but she might also fall in love with Aurora. I haven’t read it, but it sounds awesome. The other is Girl, Serpent, Thorn.’

‘Oh, didn’t I lend you that one last year?’

‘Yes,’ Cordelia said. ‘It was awesome and the cover is so beautiful I wanted my own copy. I think Alastair will like it too, the world is inspired by Persian culture and the Shahnameh, which he loves, and the story is very good too.’

Girl, Serpent, Thorn was probably one of her favorite books, and Cordelia ultimately decided to buy it for herself while buying Malice for Alastair. He could always borrow the other book from her, she just wanted to reread it several times and have the gorgeous cover on display.

‘I doubt Alastair minds we’re late,’ Cordelia said. ‘He’s been spending the day with Thomas.’

Cordelia sometimes envied the amount of free time Alastair had compared to her. She hoped it would be the same once she went to university. Of course, Alastair had his memory, he only had to read everything once and he would remember forever. He could save so much time that way.

It still struck her as odd how they didn’t understand Alastair’s memory. Lucie was the way she was because her grandfather was the thief of souls. Same for Tessa, who’d gotten some of her power back after his death. Thomas had the sight because his mother did, and Kamala had healing powers because a fairy had given them to her. But no one knew why Alastair was the way he was. Cordelia knew it still frustrated him, not understanding.

‘I can’t wait until I can go to university,’ Lucie said. ‘I am so done with physics.’

‘Why did you take physics?’ Cordelia asked.

‘No clue,’ Lucie said. ‘I’ll survive another year. Then it’s English literature and creative writing.’

Cordelia wished she knew what she was going to study. Half her biology class was already working on their med school applications, but Cordelia had no clue yet. At least she couldn’t really picture herself as a doctor. Part of her still wanted to be a hero, but what if like Jem she decided to retire early? Being a hero didn’t exactly pay, and it was good to have some education. She just didn’t know what. She knew, of course, it was fine to choose wrong at first. Alastair had realized being a politician wasn’t for him, and was again starting in his first year.

‘At least Alastair promised to help me with my math homework,’ Cordelia said.

Cordelia and Lucie took the metro and arrived at Jem’s house. She’d been here frequently since the summer, and it already felt like Alastair’s house. She’d considered moving in herself too, but felt like she was still too young to move away from her mother and would rather stay for now.

Alastair and Thomas were in the living room, where an animal home was standing on the table next to a bit of neatly folded wrapping paper, not a tear in sight. Alastair had always been a little obsessive in the way he opened gifts. The wrapping paper would be thrown away, yet he always opened it with such a care and he never ripped anything.

‘Happy birthday,’ she said, hugging her brother.

He’d grown more comfortable with physical affection lately, and for Cordelia it felt like it had become easier to reach him. She’d had to get used to not living in the same house as him at first, but Alastair seemed happier here.

‘Thank you,’ Alastair said. ‘I’m officially on the waiting list for a pet hedgehog. It might take some time, but I have some of the supplies I need now. I am open to name suggestions as I have not thought of anything yet.’

‘Pipsqueak!’ Lucie called out.

‘Oddly, you’re not the first person to suggest that,’ Alastair said. ‘No, I am not naming my pet Pipsqueak.’

‘That’s because I already call Alastair that,’ Thomas said.

Alastair rolled his eyes. ‘My hedgehog will have a serious name, not something a toddler would have chosen.’

They didn’t settle on a name yet that evening. Lucie kept suggesting the kind of names Alastair meant to avoid as a joke, and Eugenia did the same when she and Kamala arrived. Kamala had a few good suggestions, and Alastair decided to look into Persian pet names.

Cordelia started feeling like things would be alright again, like things would be normal. Of course, she could never be sure. Tatiana had not turned up again, Gideon had reported her missing and so far the police had no leads. Cordelia didn’t think they’d find her, and she wondered if Tatiana would come back. There was no chance she could bring back her son, not anymore, but Cordelia feared she might want revenge. Right now, she tried not to worry. She would be prepared, yes, but she would also continue to live her life, go to school, worry about things normal girls her age should be worried about. Alastair seemed to be doing a little better as well, although she knew his EMDR days were hard. He was playing music again, and Cordelia loved to listen to him play the piano while she was here.

‘Do you want to play something?’ Cordelia asked at some point, gesturing to the piano.

‘Of course,’ Alastair said. ‘Thomas, I need your help.’

‘I didn’t bring my guitar,’ Thomas said nervously.

‘I don’t need you to play, I need you to turn the page of the sheet music. One of these days I’m going to make a copy and tape this piece together, but it’s 5 pages long.’

Cordelia would always be impressed at how fast Alastair could move his fingers over the keys. He’d tried to teach her when she was younger and she could play some simple melodies with her right hand only, but she’d never gotten the hang of playing with two hands.

‘I recognize this,’ Lucie said when Alastair was finished. ‘I think it’s in Pride and Prejudice. The one with Colin Firth.’

‘That’s possible, it’s well known. The Turkish March by Mozart,’ Alastair said. ‘I’ve been practicing this for the past week.’

‘It’s lovely,’ Cordelia said. ‘I missed hearing you play.’

‘And now you only get to listen when you’re here,’ Alastair said apologetically.

‘I’m here several days a week anyway,’ Cordelia said. ‘I’m glad you’re playing again.’

‘I forgot how much I loved it,’ Alastair said. ‘But I’m happy too. Even Church likes it when I play.’

Cordelia noticed the cat was sitting up from his spot on the couch, listening intently as Alastair started playing something else. Church might hate everyone and everything, but he loved Jem and he loved music.

Thomas continued to do his job as page turner and Cordelia could see the adoration in his eyes as he watched Alastair play. She was glad they’d been able to work it out and were still together, Alastair deserved that.

When Alastair was finished, Lucie decided to present her gift, which was a story she’d written herself in an insanely short time. Cordelia had read it and helped her edit, but the premise was that it was Frozen but with Alastair and Cordelia as the main characters.

‘I’m going to read it as soon as I have the time,’ Alastair promised. ‘This sounds brilliant.’

#Alastair Carstairs #Thomas Lightwood #Cordelia Carstairs #Lucie Herondale #Thomastair #Lucelia #the last hours #tlh #fanfiction #epilogue

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missperfectlyfine13 · 4 years ago

Text

In the garden would you trust me?

Summary: So, it's been a while since I've posted any writing, but the other day inspiration finally struck. I've always thought about how it would be fun to write a story inspired by the folklore love triangle and I finally came up with (hopefully) a good way to do it!

This story will be 3 parts - one part from Betty's perspective, one from August's, and one from James'.

But here's the twist - I am writing James as a girl. I know that Taylor has said that James is a teenage boy, but I'm taking a little creative liberty here. Hopefully it's well received!

So here goes nothing - part one is below!

*********

(Betty's POV)

The sound of metal clinking rings through the soft, late summer breeze. Betty squints, trying to determine what she’s actually looking at in her biology book. The bright sunlight against the glossy finish of the paper makes it nearly impossible to make out much of anything. As she strains to see the blurry image of cell, a swift wind sweeps through, whipping Betty’s papers into the air. She audibly grunts, studying outside seemed like a good idea at the time, but now she’s not sure.

Before she can think of standing up from the picnic table, a slender hand slides her papers back onto her book. Betty glances up, meeting the bluest pair of eyes she’s ever seen. The taller girl sits down opposite her, and Betty takes a moment to study her. Her wind-swept blonde hair is pulled into a loose ponytail, and her eyes glimmer almost magically back at Betty. She’s wearing an orange t-shirt with the number 8 printed in the upper right corner, the words Tigersprinted across her chest. She’s definitely a soft ball player, but shouldn’t she be over on the field across the way, with all her teammates?

“You’ve got to watch the wind when you study outside,” the girl finally speaks, a small smirk on her face, “I’m James by the way.”

“James? Isn’t that a boy’s name?” Betty replies before she can stop herself, but she quickly realizes it was a little rude, and she blushes shyly, “Also, why aren’t you on the field?”

“Well, you’re full of questions,” James chuckles, and her laugh may be the sweetest sound Betty has ever heard, “My parents wanted a boy, but they got me. So, my name is James. As far as your second question, we’re taking a break. I was walking over to the bathroom when I saw your papers take flight.”

“Sorry,” Betty says, still blushing, she can’t believe she let herself say that to a complete stranger.

“Don’t be sorry,” James replies sweetly, a hand still lying on top of her biology worksheets.

“Thank you for saving my homework,” the blonde’s hand on her work reminds her to thank the other girl.

“No problem…” James falters for a moment and lightly laughs once again, “I don’t think I got your name?”

“Betty.”

James gives her a toothy grin in return, “Betty. I like that. I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

“My family just moved here, I’m new to the school,” Betty explains, glad they are finally on to a new topic and her rude remarks seem to be forgotten.

“Ah gotcha,” James nods knowingly, “how do you like it so far?”

“It’s alright, everyone seems pretty friendly,” Betty looks down at her book, fidgeting with the dog-eared corners, “my classes seem ok, it’s just hard to transfer schools your junior year, you know?”

“I totally get it,” James replies, after intently listening to every word Betty spoke, “well, I know it’s hard to make friends at this stage in the game, so consider me one,” the other girl’s hand lifts off the stack of worksheets and across the table into Betty’s space.

Betty can’t help the broad smile that spreads across her face as she grasps onto James’s hand, “Thanks.”

“James!” a deep male voice strikes the calm afternoon air.

“Oh, that’s me,” James stands up and Betty quickly realizes how tall the girl is, “I’ve got to get back over there, but I’ll see you around?”

Betty nods, “Definitely!”

“Oh wait! Once more thing,” James blindly reaches for a pen off the table and grabs Betty’s hand back into hers.

Betty can’t stop her cheeks from turning a rosy pink at the feeling of ten numbers being etched onto her skin.

“That’s my phone number,” James drops her hand and the pen, before turning around to head back to the softball diamond, “you better text or call!”

“I will,” Betty replies shyly as James sprints back over to her team.

******

“Betty, Betty, BETTY!”

Betty is finally jolted back to reality. She quickly glances up from her desk, her math teacher standing over her with a worried look on her face. Betty quickly takes stock of what has just happened. The classroom is empty, there are tears staining her cheeks and the desk below her and not a single answer is written out on the test paper in front of her. This day just keeps getting better.

“I’m sorry,” she quietly mutters, grabbing the blank sheet to place it in her teacher’s hand, accepting her failure this time.

“Betty,” Ms. Davidson’s voice sounds soft and concerned, and she places the blank sheet back in front of Betty, “what’s wrong?”

The brunette shakes her head, not willing to commiserate with anyone, especially not a teacher, “Nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing, considering you just cried your way through the first test of the year and didn’t fill out a single answer,” she still looks overly concerned.

Betty sighs, “I just got some bad news this morning and it kind of threw me a little. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I know you’re a smart girl,” Ms. Davidson replies kindly, kneeling down in front of Betty’s desk, meeting her still teary eyes, “and I don’t want you to start off the year with a 0 in my class. How about you come back during your study hall and try taking this test again?”

Betty nods enthusiastically, “Thank you Ms. Davidson. That would be great.”

Ms. Davidson stands back up and gives her a small pat on the shoulder, “Whatever that boy did, isn’t worth all these tears.”

Betty nods with a small frown…more like whatever she did, “I know.”

“I’ll see you during study hall,” she says before Betty grabs her books and heads out the door.

Betty walks briskly down the hall towards her locker, weaving in and out, around the other students. She doesn’t want to risk running into James right now, it’s not something she can handle. Not after what Inez told her this morning.

A fresh wave of tears form behind her eyes, just thinking of the terrible encounter. The bubbly, blonde gossip had been standing by her locker before she even got there. Before Betty could even put in her combination, Inez was talking a mile a minute. She didn’t gather the whole situation with how quickly the other girl was talking. She did pick up the most important part though. Apparently, James was seen out with some other girl, from a neighboring school’s softball team. They were at the local diner, sharing a sundae and according to Inez, they looked “pretty cozy”.

Betty wants so badly to not believe it, but it adds up. James has been so distant for most of the summer. They’ve only been in school for a month and Betty just chalked it up to senior year stress. It’s James’s last softball season and she knows how badly she wants to do good. Very quickly though, texts became less frequent, excuses were made when Betty asked to hang out. That’s why she’s sure it has to be true, even though Inez’s sources aren’t always that reliable.

“Betty!” the last person she wants to hear calling her name pulls her out of her thoughts.

Before James has a chance to reach her, she’s on the move, heading towards the bathroom nearest to her locker. She can sense the tall blonde behind her, but pushes past the door of the bathroom before James can catch up. Betty flies into the stall at the far end of the room, putting the toilet seat lid down and sitting. She’s tries her best to keep her tears at bay, but soon enough she sees a worn pair of converse on the floor in front of her stall.

“Go away James,” Betty says curtly, clutching her books tightly to her chest, putting all her focus on making her voice sound steady.

“Betty…please,” James’s voice sounds desperate – almost sad, a tone she’s not used to hearing from the blonde, “let me explain.”

“I think Inez did enough explaining already,” Betty can’t stop her voice from shaking this time and she knows James heard.

She hears James sigh, and her head thud lightly against the door of the stall, “Please…Betty, baby…”

“DON’T call me that,” she’s surprised by how firm her voice was that time, but something about the pet name sets her insides aflame.

A loud clatter rings through the small space and Betty sees James’s skateboard hit the floor, followed by James herself. She sits cross legged in front of the stall, Betty can only see her legs, clad in ripped blue jeans.

“I’m not leaving until you let me talk to you,” James says stubbornly, but Betty can hear the way her voice is shaking now too.

“Well then it looks like we’re both going to be here for a while, I hope you’re ok with skipping 2nd period,” Betty spits back out just as stubbornly.

“I wish I could see your face, but I guess I’ll just say my piece through the door,” James sighs once again.

Betty doesn’t want to hear what she has to say, but on the same hand, she supposes it has to happen and she’s not sure she can bear to look James in the eyes when it does. Her response is silence and James takes that as her go ahead.

“I didn’t want you to find out like that,” James says almost timidly after about 30 more seconds of silence.

The soft admittance digs the knife in so deep Betty feels like she can’t breathe for a moment, a whole new batch of hot, angry tears already pouring down her cheeks, “So it’s true.”

She can hear James sniffle and she knows that she’s crying too, “I’m so sorry Betty.”

“Why?” Betty can’t hold her emotions at bay any longer and a choked sob follows the one-word question.

“It just happened, I don’t even know,” James is floundering but not coming up with any valid reasons, “but believe me, I feel terrible. I feel so guilty, it’s been eating me alive.”

“Then why did you keep doing it?” Betty replies almost venomously, you wouldn’t know she was crying by the tone of her voice.

James’s quiet sniffles have turned into full blown sobs and Betty can barely understand her lame excuse of a response, “I don’t know.”

“Who is she?” Betty asks coldly, she has to know.

“Her name is August,” James manages to choke out, “I met her in softball this summer. She doesn’t go here.”

Betty suddenly feels so angry she can barely keep her body from shaking. She pulls at the delicate chain around her neck, a necklace James got her shortly after they started dating. Betty yanks at the little gold heart until the chains breaks free from her neck, and she tosses it under the door at the other girl.

“Obviously, you realize we’re no longer going to homecoming together this weekend right?” Betty asks dryly, her hands still shaking, she’s surprised she hasn’t dropped the books in her lap.

Betty can see James delicately grab the broken chain and pendant off the floor, followed by another small sob, “Can’t we just try and work this out?”

“How could you possibly think we can work this out, when you can’t even give me a good reason?” her voice sounds tired and sad, so very sad, exactly how she feels on the inside, Betty’s not sure she can make it through the rest of this day.

James doesn’t respond, just quietly weeps on the other side of the door. Betty has had enough, she needs to leave this bathroom – now. She stands up and smooths out the wrinkles in her yellow sundress, trying to salvage what little dignity she has left. She swings the door open and James looks momentarily surprised.

“Move,” Betty doesn’t even make eye contact, but the tall blonde listens to her and scoots to the side, so Betty can walk past and out the door.

Betty doesn’t even look back once, because if she did, she would never leave this room.

******

It’s nothing short of a miracle that Betty even makes it through the rest of the day. It was a constant battle of holding back her tears and trying to avoid her ex-girlfriend, all while trying to function. She’s sure she still bombed that math test, even with the extra chance to put answers on the paper.

When she gets home, she bypasses going inside. She knows she won’t be able to avoid her mother’s questioning gaze. That alone will make her start bawling and she can’t bear to tell the story one more time today. Instead, she heads past the gate leading to the backyard and straight to her garden. The one spot in this entire world where she feels truly at peace. She hopes it can bring her that same sense of relief today.

As soon as she flops her bag down in the grass, she weaves her way through the flower bushes and tomato plants, all the way to the back fence by her sunflowers. She all but throws herself at the earth, pulling her legs tight against her chest. A fresh batch of tears starts to trickle from her eyes. Betty truly didn’t think she had any more tears to cry but being in this garden isn’t having the healing effect she thought it would. It was foolish to think that she would be calm here. This garden holds too many memories of James, and Betty instantly regrets ever brining the taller girl here. She’s tainted the one place she’s sought solitude since her family moved to this stupid town. When they moved, Betty had been distraught, leaving all her friends behind. Her mom and dad had both asked if there was anything that could make the move better. Betty had almost instantly said a big garden.

Betty loves the outdoors, she has ever since she was a kid. Her grandma had instilled a love for plants and flowers in her, from the moment she could walk. She remembers sticking her stubby little fingers in the dirt, placing delicate seeds with the aid of her grandma. Then helping to tend those sprouts until they produced leaves, flowers, and fruit. There’s something so gratifying about bringing new life into existence, with just a little water, sunshine, and love.

Now, what was once her happy place, is full of sour memories. Betty looks at a row of blueberry bushes and scoffs, remembering how excited James had been to see the blue fruit the first time Betty brought her here. That very same day, they shared their first kiss, next to the blueberry bushes. The sound of early evening crickets and the feeling of soft grass beneath her toes failed in comparison to the feeling of James’s soft lips against hers. Her heart had soared and felt almost as full as being in this garden makes her feel.

Not anymore though.

Betty wonders if she’ll ever be able to look at this garden the same way ever again. She slowly stands from her spot in the grass and heads inside. Thankfully, her parents are no where to be seen and her little brother is still at soccer practice, so Betty is able to make it to her room without being seen.

The moment she enters her room, her heart sinks. The first thing her eyes land on, is James’s ill-fitting cardigan hanging from her bed post. Her heart feels heavy as she remembers the day James had bestowed the beloved sweater upon her. They were taking a walk in the park, after getting ice cream. It was late September, so the days had been hot, but the evenings were starting to become chilly. Betty had shivered as they walked, instantly regretting leaving her denim jacket at home. James has always been observant. At the first sign of her coldness, James had slipped off her baggy cardigan and slipped it over Betty’s shoulders. Betty felt warmer immediately and it wasn’t just because of the soft fabric hanging on her.

Betty stomps over to the bed and all but rips the cardigan from the post, tossing it to the ground. She kicks it under the bed before flopping stomach first onto the mattress.

She was foolish to let James in. Now it’ll take a lifetime to recover from the kind, beautiful soul that she thought James was. She thought that the blonde, softball player was going to be the one. Betty saw herself growing old with the other girl; buying a house, planting a new garden and raising a few kids. She’s only 17, almost 18. It seems foolish now that she was planning so far into the future with someone she has known for only a year, before her life has even truly begun.

An outsider might look at the situation and say she will move on. She’s so young. When you are as young as Betty, most adults assume that you don’t know a thing about true love. But Betty knows how she truly feels, Betty knows that she was – still is in love with James. And she hates it.

#taylor swift #betty #folklore #folklore love triangle #fanfic #my stuff #wlw fanfic

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pandemilkbread · 5 years ago

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paubaya (angst!oneshot)

authors note: hello! i had an angsty dream last night and instead of pouring out my thoughts and using it to write on my story... it made me write a oneshot. also, the new moira song had me thinking— why shouldn’t i make this into an angsty oneshot too... hm.

anyways. please enjoy :>

Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Paubaya

noun /pa·u·ba·ya/ origins. filipino

summary: You were far from being a pessimist; but you knew, you utterly knew, that loving Bakugo Katsuki would end in heartbreak.

intro.

You loved reading. Your favorite part? The ending. Especially when the villain’s wicked schemes go haywire at the hands of the prince, who in the name of love saves his beloved from their wicked hands.

As a past time, you would imagine the days when your own prince charming would sweep you off your feet; promising his unconditional love for you. Showers of light glistening all the way to your magnificent castle.

But by the tender age of nine did you start doubting those acts of prose in fairytales. Maybe, just maybe, if you believed hard enough he would finally show up.

And by the miserable age of eleven, when your own father left your home for the final time, the only words of assurance your mother could give you were:

“Oh, honey. Sometimes the hardest kind of love is the one you have to leave behind.”

first verse.

You loved writing. Your favorite part? The words. How they instantly relieved yourself of thoughts that lurked deep within your subconscious. Your hands scribbled endlessly on the pages of your notebook, professing your love for the kind boy in class (oh, please someone save your sweet heart).

The contents of your diary will forever remain confidential. The objective? You thought by writing down how you felt for him could you move on from his clutches. He wasn’t necessarily a villain, but to you— a fragile girl at the age of thirteen, he could easily scar you for life.

A bit over the top for someone so young; but you like to think about it this way. To save yourself from the embarrassment of rejection, to save yourself from bawling your eyes out thereof; keeping it to yourself was the best course of action.

When the burden became too heavy, you continued writing every single feeling down until you were left empty to the core. What’s left to do? Rip out each and every page and burn it.

Yet, it was a mishap really. When the gods decided to play you like a fool when the medium of your leaked thoughts disappeared. A joke? Not a funny one at all.

And only on the rooftop of your middle school building did you realize where your missing item went. Into the hands of the person you liked.

By now, you were fuming. How dare he take something that did not belong to him? How dare he—

“How stupid is it of you to believe that any fraction of kindness anyone gives you is equal to love?”

He was right. You were stupid enough to fall for his good looks and kindness, you were dumb enough to be swayed by his charms. Though his angelic persona couldn’t stop you from punching the lights out of his face.

(but the cries of his friends hiding behind the door did.)

pre-chorus.

Bakugo Katsuki was an enigma. It was near impossible to comprehend how someone that attractive could be devil’s reincarnate, you even felt the heat of Hell radiating out of his body.

He was no prince charming; no one convinced you otherwise. And yet, you couldn’t help yourself but fall for the antagonist. The epitome of a fairytale villain right in the flesh.

You first met him in high school, your first year specifically, in the nurses’ office. As a student intern for Recovery Girl, you spent most of your days in her office handling paperwork. Quite surprising really how a quirkless student like you made it into the prestigious school in the first place.

Well, where you lacked you made up for. You had your brains to thank. It made up for the lack of power, good enough to get you in the general department.

Anyhow, if someone came up to you and said ‘you’ll be swept of your feet, baby!’ you’d scoff and retort back in laughter. But when Bakugo Katsuki came into your life, it was a pretty close demonstration of what it felt like to be a princess— one that was blasted of her feet.

(and you didn’t mean it figuratively. nope, he really did blast you off your feet.)

chorus.

How it happened? Simple, a rage visit to the nurse.

The door slammed open revealing an irked pomeranian covered in bruises. Bakugo marched over to your desk looming an irritated expression. For someone who’d look like he could blast you into smithereens, you stared in awe. He was really attractive in person.

You’ve heard of the boy from passing conversations in your department. His name frequently mentioned when the words sports festival and kidnapping popped up. His reputation couldn’t prepare you for his good looks, you would never admit it but, god does he look good.

And with that, he said his first words to you: “What the fuck are you looking at?”

Ah, yes. How romantic. You held back an eye roll and stood up. Predictable. He was probably looking for Recovery Girl to fix that bleeding gash on his temple, but sadly the latter was unavailable. Something around the lines of quick bathroom break or teacher meeting.

“She’s not here. Bear with it for a sec, let me get something to help.” You mumbled.

Being the only intern for the office had its perks, you freely practiced first aid when the paperwork was bearable and no one was around. You cleaned the wounds with an antiseptic, then proceeded to patch them up with bandages and some gauzes.

You found it amusing how the loud boy remained quiet on the chair while you were working on him. You finished your treatment with a pat to his head, “Good boy, you can leave now.”

Your words just seemed to rile him, ending the conversation with a “What’dya call me, ugly!?”

second verse.

By now, you were well-acquainted with Bakugo’s bunch of friends that you call the semi-crackheads and the real-crackheads. It was easy to differentiate the members into the two categories. All you had to do was think: among all of them, who had the most potential to burn down the school in flames?

Bakugo obviously stands at the top of that list followed by Kaminari, and Mina. The other lesser two evils, Kirishima and Sero, were safely sorted into the semi’s.

How you met? Simple, repetitive gestures you did whenever you saw Blasty.

After the events in the nurses’ office you’ve come to notice the boy more at school. Whenever lunch came around your eyes would instantly search for his figure, darting around for any sign. When it ends in vain, you sighed.

The next day however, you found him by the corner of the cafeteria with his friends. You focused your time gazing at Bakugo’s mop of hair, and in turn, he looked up and met your own. You sent him a nasty grin and for some reason, he sent a glare back.

The boy, obviously distracted from the conversation at their table, caused sets of eyes to turn to the source of his focus. Now gazed upon not one, but five sets of faces with undiscernible looks. So this is what being the center of attention feels like.

(you sincerely hoped it would stop. though you only have yourself to blame for it.)

pre-chorus.

Time flies quick when you’re surrounded by people who make your life difficult. And when you mean difficult, you mean constant trips to the nurses’ office when any of the quintet manage to injure themselves. Unsurprisingly, this happened frequently.

Apparently, the pomeranian revealed you worked for Recovery Girl and made his friends intrigued. Especially when he called you “ugly” more times than they could remember.

You were already on your second year of high school when Mina proposed you joined their group study session. Evidently, you had the best grades in the general department, well— except for math, and they wanted to use it to their advantage. You willingly accepted though, with the exchange of having blastboy teach you your weakest subject.

(only after being taunted.)

You felt the rush of heat that swirled in your stomach when Bakugo meets your eyes, grinning. It remained in your thoughts the night after, the feelings rising and falling every second that passed.

By then, you knew you were screwed. Oh god, he was going to break your heart.

chorus.

“Do you like someone?” You muttered one day. The other four members of your so-called study group (more like a cramming team, you’d retort.) missed out on today’s session as they had other things to do.

This left you and Bakugo as the only participants. The silence was unbearable, truthfully you had done enough reviewing to last a year, but you wanted to attend for the sake of seeing his face.

You knew he was a loud one, a potty mouth at that, and it was worrying to see him so... silent. You wanted to break the peace by riling him up and to your disappointment, he remained silent.

He did reply though, minutes after.

“...Shut up, extra.”

His usual snap backs always made you laugh. Even when it looked like he was going to send you into an early grave. But the way he said it right now, made you nauseous. Something akin to dread swiveled within you. No, it couldn’t be?

One of your many talents lie in the skill of perception; and perceptive you were. More so when it involved the people you cared about, and you more than cared for feisty boy.

You reached out and grabbed him by the collar, forcing him to look into your eyes. The tangerine color of the sunset couldn’t hide the pinkish hue that was plastered on his cheeks. Funny as it was, a part of you wanted to scoff. The Bakugo Katsuki likes someone.

With that, a small part of you shattered. The remaining bits of pieces tied together by a string hanging loosely in anticipation, was it you?

“Who is it?” You whispered.

You were far from being a pessimist and you held on to that hope so tightly. Please give me a chance, please don’t break it. In that matter of seconds before his answer, you prayed ever so gently.

And when he breathed out a name that clearly was not yours, all hope died.

(and you with it. if you had just kept your mouth shut.)

bridge.

Her name came up more often than you thought; and to your dismay, you noticed the growing grin that came along with it. Bakugo sported a different kind of vibe the moment any conversation stirred towards the object of his affections.

And more often than you liked; the feelings of anguish mixed with the bitterness twisted ever so constantly in your chest. Like a weighing anchor falling into the sea, an endless rope diving deep into its waters.

As cheesy as it was, you but feel... hurt? For what reason? You hardly knew yourself. Though a deep part of you truly hoped, maybe, even a tiny little bit, that he liked you.

Seemingly, your fondness for the boy must have clouded your senses by the time Kirishima showed up at the library one afternoon. With all knowing look, he sat down opposite of you and mumbled:

“You know, for a guy that’s pretty smart. He can be real dense sometimes.”

Your heart leapt. You took a deep breath and counted. One, he couldn’t know. Two, he shouldn’t know. Three, was it that obvious? Four, does he know? You flipped the pages of your textbook, pretending to be so immersed in the subject that—

“He’s never going to know if you don’t speak up.” Was he reading your mind now?

“How’d you find out?” You sighed, dropping your head into your palms.

“You’re not the only observant one.”

Of course. Besides the dense Bakugo, there were four other sets of eyes in your group. One of them must have noticed how stiff, or how unusual (more like miserable) you’ve been acting. You gotta hand it to them though, they work fast.

“It shouldn’t be like this. Why am I so miserable?”

A pause, then two, then three. Kirishima weighed your options, and like the supportive friend he was, he gave you an answer.

“You should talk it out. Let him know. Because at the end, you’ll be the one who suffers the most. Just try.”

outro.

And by some interference of faith, more like some intervention from Mina and coaxing from Kaminari, you waited outside the 3-A homeroom for the so-called love of your life. You’d prefer to stop the cheesy antics, yet your nerves were all over the place. You needed something to calm you down.

Earlier that day, you sent a message to Bakugo asking him to meet you halfway. 6 PM. Outside 3-A. Don’t be late, stupid. Minutes pass and there was no sign of the guy. Figures.

Just as you were about to call quits the man of the hour finally showed up, sporting a look of annoyance.

“You finally decide to text me back, extra.”

Of course he was mad, you ignored his texts the past week. Avoiding him like the plague.

“Hm. You missed me?” You heart beats frantically in your chest.

“Who would miss you, ugly.”

And there it was, the whomper. Giggles erupted from your mouth and you wiped the almost tears in your eyes. Although his words seemed derogatory, the way he looked refuted his words. He was visibly upset at your attempts of ignoring him.

“I’m sorry. The exams were really difficult.” You consoled. “I missed you too, Katsuki.”

With that, you saw the cogs twisting and turning in his head. His face showing a definite ‘what the fuck just happened’ expression. Of course he did, this was the first time you’ve ever called him by his first name.

You hoped for the best that was enough for you to get your message across. He was pretty smart, but pretty stupid. Oh well.

You sort of realized that even the words pass by his ears and he barely understood a thing, you were happy. Yes, you were still miserable. Yes, you wanted him to love you the same way you did. But, sometimes the best way of loving someone was to let them go.

You didn’t want to burden him with your problems, or even add more to his. So you decided to keep your feelings to yourself. Kirishima must be berating you right now. You laughed.

The journey to moving on would be tough. You knew it. Telling him the truth would be so much easier. You knew it too. Just like your mother said, sometimes the hardest kind of love is the one you left behind.

And no way in hell were you leaving Bakugo Katsuki.

end note: so that’s the end aaaaaa i wanted to keep it as a oneshot but for some reason... part two??? bakugo’s pov??? AAAAAAAAA okay yes reader chan kept her feelings to her self. it’s a bit sad, but you know... that’s life and you don’t always get what you deserve :<

thank you for reading!!

#bnha #bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #bnha oneshots #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bnha fanfiction #oneshots #oneshot #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero scenarios #angst fic

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likehoneyandsilk · 5 years ago

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Notes From Her - The Beginning

The little notes started when they were eight years old.

His parents had asked if she’d like to watch one of Mat’s hockey games one Sunday morning. She had obliged easily, and to this day, Mat remembers the tiny girl sitting next to him in the car squished against his side, dressed in one of his pee wee team shirts that was all to big for her.

Her chubby cheeks were as rosy as the red shirt, and it fell to her knees. Her mom had bundled her up in her winter coat and a toque, and she cheerfully chatted with his little sister, hugging the cup of Tim Horton’s hot chocolate in her hands.

When they arrived at the rink, Mat and his father parted ways with the girls, his mother guiding them to their seats. While Mat laced up his skates, he noticed a small neatly folded piece of blue construction paper tucked in his hockey bag. Confused, he reached for it.

He opened it to reveal her bubbly and small writing in sparkly pink pen. The note read:

“I hope you win! Good luck! I’m gonna cheer really loud for you!”

With her name scribbled at the end and a tiny little smiley face. And throughout the game when Mat looked into the stands, she kept her word. Later that day when he got home, he read over her note multiple times, securing it into an empty skates box under his bed. In his messy writing with a big black sharpie he labeled the box: “Notes from Her”

And from there the notes continued to grow, and the box continued to fill, and it traveled wherever he did, even after all these years.

By the age of 16 they were officially a couple. It was inevitable. Their parents had seen it coming. Their friends had seen it coming. She had more pictures of her and Mat tacked across her bedroom wall from their childhood to now than she did any other. And he kept every note underneath that battered carboard box of his.

On the morning of their first date, he had caught her by her locker. She seemed to be writing out something, her eyebrows furrowed in slight concentration, and the tiniest bite of her bottom lip. She looked pretty as always, effortlessly. It was different now that they were becoming more than just friends, yet still the same.

“Hey” his voice alerted her to divert her eyes to his. She would be lying if she didn’t feel butterflies erupt in her stomach. Mat was always tall, dark and handsome. And soon he was going to be her boyfriend, not just her best friend.

She smiled, greeting him with a “hello”. He couldn’t help but notice the BCHL shirt he’d gifted her after his first game, she’d paired with her blue jeans and white converse. Her cheeks as rosy as the first day she’d come to one of his games.

“Are you excited for tonight?” He asked her nonchalantly, leaning next to her locker. He seemed so at ease, but on the inside he was as nervous and giddy as she was. Her cheeks reddened and she let out a giggle. Excited yes, but also nervous. In response she nodded, shutting her locker tight. “Of course, I’ll be ready for 5:00?”

“Perfect. We’ll head to my game and after go for our dinner.” And then what happened next was a moment of pure bliss. He leaned down and pressed his lips softly to her burning cheek. And with such ease he pushed himself off the locker to make his way to class, turning back to send her a wink.

Phased and bashful, she turned on her heel, the sensation of his lips still burning on her cheek. Until he called out to her, “Hold on a second!”

She turned abruptly meeting Mat’s happy smile and playful eyes. They’d always been the brightest and captivating. “I like the shirt! Make sure you wear it tonight.”

After first period they met again in History. They always sat together, and by habit she made her way to the corner seat by the window next to her old friend. Mat smiled at her as class began, while they shuffled to take out their pens and binders. In the midst of it all, he caught her drop a piece of paper on his desk.

Sneaking a glance at the teacher and her next to him, he abruptly opened the neatly folded piece of last weeks math homework.

“Today is our first date. I hope you win tonight! Take me out for milkshakes and fries either way”

When he looked back at her, he couldn’t help but smile and place the note into the pocket of his jeans. His eyes lingered a little longer, as a small smile appears on her lips, and the sunlight began to seep in through the window, painting her golden. She knew he’d read the note.

And that night when he picked her up in his father’s old Chevy pickup, he watched as she rushed down the front steps of her porch, adorned in the shirt from the day tucked into a knee length black flowy skirt and ankle boots. The passenger door already open for her, as it always was, but this time as she settled in the feeling was different. It was better.

“A win. Milkshakes and fries it is” he placed his pinky out for her and she giggled, wrapping her smaller one around his. And with that, began the most perfect first date, ending with the sweetest first kiss on her porch steps, tasting like milkshakes and strawberry chapstick.

A few months later Mat was back and forth between Seattle and Vancouver. They didn’t see each other as often, but they’d managed. It was an end to another weekend home for Mat before his father drove him back for three weeks of games and practices.

After another night of milkshakes and fries she’d drove him back to his house, and they sat silently in the car, the radio playing a faint song in the back, dreading their least favourite part of every weekend Mat was home. He sighed, engulfing her hand into his as she turned to look at him.

“I hate this part” she whispered, biting her bottom lip. “I know, I do to”

With a sigh they stepped out of the car. He met her at the hood of her car. She examined his face for a minute. He’d grown his hair out a little longer, the slightest of scruff on his face. Training was powerful, and he’d gained more muscle over the last few months. He was a Seattle phenomenon now. She smiled, placing her cold hands into the pocket of his Seattle Thunderbirds jersey he wore.

Mat watched as the familiar look of sadness washed over her face. Her big brown eyes seem to dull a little, glossy. The streetlights dancing off her face outlined her sad smile. She leaned furthur towards him, an urge to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear letting his digits linger into her silky strands of hair.

The Autumn air was crisp and brisk. As her hands began to warm she parted her lips to speak. “Why is it so hard everytime?” She searched his eyes for an answer. Mat leaned down as he heard the front door open, and through his perhiperal vision caught a glimpse of his sister helping his father carry down his packed suitcase.

He leaned furthur, watching her eyes begin to close, lashes like a thick blanket and pressed his lips to hers. They kissed for a few seconds, and when she pulled back, withdrew her hands from his pockets and embraced him in a hug.

“I’m going to miss you” her voice muffled against his hoodie yet he understood. “I’m going to miss you too”

As the embrace fell apart and she moved out of his way, Mat felt the urge to say more. He knew what he felt, but fear clouded over his bravery and courage. He loved her. But with a soft smile he turned and she watched. She loved him. But she didn’t have the guts to say it to his face.

As his father drove out of the neighbourhood, Mat reached into his pockets, watching as the houses he’d grown around passed by. Suddenly he felt something in his right pocket.

He pulled out a napkin from the diner they’d gone to an hour ago. Instead of grease and reminants of ketchup and milkshake, this one was clean and fresh.

“I can’t bring myself to tell you this, but I think about it everyday. I can’t wait any longer. I love you Barzy. I really truly have fallen in love with you”

She loved him. She loved him!

“Dad! We have to turn around! Please dad ...” catching his father off guard, who began to question his son. “What’s wrong? Mathew what ...”

“Please Dad. Please just turn this car around, just for a second” without furthur questioning his father turned back around, making way home.

Upon arrival, she was just about to get into her car. When the headlights of an approaching car caught her off guard. Mat rushed out of the car. His face bright and content. Almost breathless. And then at the sight of her, taking in that he hadn’t missed her yet, he seemed nervous.

“I’ll give you two a minute.” They barely heard his father make his way into the house. “Mat, what is it?” She wondered if he’d opened her note already. She hadn’t meant for him to rush home, or cause an inconvenience to his father, but in that moment in the diner while he chatted with an old friend by the jukebox, she knew that scribbling down her words and emotions onto the only source of paper was the best she could do.

“I love you too” was all he said, and with that he pulled her in for another kiss, and to this day she swore it felt like the movies. His hands wrapped around her cheeks, pulling her in and supporting her, because he’d never kissed her like this before. The intensity of the dizziness, butterflies and watery legs never felt this high.

High school was over, senior prom a memory for a lifetime, no more trips to Seattle for them both, college admissions had been approved and perhaps the most exciting of all. Mat had been invited and chosen for the NHL Draft. The excitement and nervousness was perplexing.

The night before the Barzal family left for the Draft she’d came to pay him a visit. Invited to the Draft as she was without question, unfortunate and remorse fully she had to deny. She had her own flight to catch in the morning. New York to be precise, for an early bird orientation at university.

His hair was back to shorter, neatly sitting atop his head. His Draft Day suit was laid out on his bed, his suitcase packed. As she greeted his parents, they whispered words of how he’d packed the picture frame you had gifted him a few days prior, along with other gifts. The frame was your favourite though, a picture of you two, smiling and in love at senior prom. Mat guided her out on the porch to sit, cuddled in a blanket, side by side, underneath the Summer star filled sky.

She smelt like lavender and vanilla. Her white converse covered her feet, legs bare and body covered with a pretty red floral summer dress. The moonlight cast a glow onto her features, which had become more prominent over the years, lashes long and bold, lips plump and soft, yet she was still beautiful as ever. Mat rested his head over hers as she leaned onto his shoulder.

Exciting as this was, it was also scary. Mat could be drafted anywhere. Anywhere at all. There was not a single question in that. And it’s how terrifying this was. In the end, as scared as she was, she was beyond happy and proud of how far he had come.

Her Barzy was living out his dream and he deserved every minute of it.

“What if the Canucks pick you?” Her voice caught him out of his own thoughts of leaving and not knowing where he was going. He chuckled, “That’d be pretty cool”.

“If that’s the case, could you tell Alex Burrows I am his biggest fan?” At this little give at a lighthearted moment they burst into laughter. Their bodies shook in unison, laughter filling the night. “I will babe, you know I will” he sighed, resting his palm softly against her cheek, getting her to look at him.

It was then that her eyes got glossy, and she smiled, a heartfelt and genuine smile. “I am so proud of Mat, so unbelievably proud” she whispered into the night, holding back a faint cry as he leaned into her. “I’m scared.” He confessed, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb against her cheek.

She sniffled, scooting closer. “Whoever picks you, wherever it may be, they will not regret it. You deserve this, and wherever you go we’re gonna make this work.”

She seldom saw Mat cry. Her fingers were gentle as she wiped at a tear of his, chuckling softly. “You’re going to be amazing, I’ll be watching, and I cannot wait to see what the future has in store for you Barzy. I love you, I love you so much”. He relaxed into her and at the sound of her voice.

Resting his forehead against hers, they remained silent, in sync with their breathing, and listening to the sounds of the night, crickets chirping and the leaves whishing ever so gently. He spoke in a whisper, telling her he loved her endlessly too.

“I’m proud of you too you know.” He pressed a kiss to her nose. She chuckled, thanking him in a whisper. “I have to help Liana pick out a dress”, she informed him softly. Her entirety wished to stay this way forever, but she had something she needed to do, another task to go along with Liana’s task. “I’ll only be a few minutes, and then I’ll be back” she pecked his lips, as she hoisted herself up, making her way into the house. As she moved their hands slowly separated, and Mat felt an empty void in a part of his stomach.

. . .

“I think this could be it” Mat felt like this was the one. If it was, what a miracle and act of destiny would that be. His mother smiled, squeezing his hand. He watched anxiously the stage before him as officials began to approach the podium. A few seconds and soon they’d begin announcing the next pick.

Without even thinking Mat reached into his coat pocket, and was surprised to find yet another note.

“The day you’ve been dreaming of is finally here. I love you, I am so proud of you, and I cannot wait to see you on that stage! Don’t forget I want the first Barzal jersey! Good luck Barzy!” signed with her name and an extravaganza of hearts. He smiled at the note, imagining her sitting in her future dorm on an uncomfortable mattress, and watching the Draft play out on a tiny dorm television.

“The New York Islanders are proud to select from the Seattle Thunderbirds, Mathew Barzal”

Everything seemed to fall into place. Everything seemed to end up how it was supposed. It was almost too good to be true.

And as Mat accepted his congratulations and new found belongings, his girl sat in her future dorm, on an uncomfortable mattress, never peeling her eyes away from the tiny little television. And when they called his name, she could not believe it, but when it settled in she was as happy as she could be, already waiting for when he’d call so she could tell him how happy she was, and excited for the life that was to come.

. . .

Notes From Her - The Middle

Notes From Her - The Future

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #Mathew barzal #Mathew barzal imagines #nhl #new york islanders #isles #nhl imagines

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leverage-ot3 · 5 years ago

Text

notable moments from The Reunion Job

leverage 3.02

Madavhi: All my work, erased, and I was only days away from cracking Manticore.

Nate: What's "Manticore"?

Madavhi: It's an electronic surveillance system. The Iranian government uses it to track protesters over cell phones, social networks, even e-mail.

Hardison: Yeah, hacker underground's flipping out about it. They use GPS to pinpoint a dissident, and then they swoop in and make the arrest.

Madavhi: The Internet made this protest possible, but now it's just a –

Nate: A liability? The government uses the people's weapon against them

- - - - -

Nate: "Cyrus"? It's "Mr. Madavhi." You can't get that attached.

Hardison: Fine. "Mr. Madavhi." He could go make a fortune working for Google or Microsoft. No, instead he risks his life fighting the bad guys. This is so our game.

Eliot (at the table behind them): He wasn't hit by the Vezarat. (comes around to sit with Hardison and Nate)

Nate: What, are you lurking?

Eliot: Yeah. I'm a lurker. It's my thing

- - - - -

eliot’s smile and raised eyebrows (x2) at hardison tho

+ he’s also wearing a red flannel with his leather jacket

- - - - -

Hardison: What's the Vezarat?

Eliot: That's the Iranian secret police. And trust me, if they wanted Cyrus, he wouldn't be sitting here talking to us.

Nate: But the Vezarat is still our logical target. So we should check our sources and see if there's a safe house in the area.

Hardison: So we're on this?

Nate: Yeah, well, we were always on this. I just wanted you to explain to me why. (gets up and heads for the Poker Room)

Hardison: You know how I feel about Mind games, Nate. Negatively. What are you looking at, lurker?

ELIOTS SMILE

- - - - -

Sophie: Eliot. Eliot, get rid of it. Ugh!

Eliot: (chuckling) I think he likes you.

Sophie (stands): You're gonna pay for this

eliot: mocks her

sophie: imma get back at you SO HARD and you’re never gonna see it coming

- - - - -

“That’s gonna cost ya” “I gotta dock ya”- hardison and eliot like a million times in this episode

- - - - -

Parker: At the East corner. (pushes vent out and enters the room) For a den of evil spies, this place smells delicious. Hardison, confiscate some pastries. (sits down at computer) Okay, no sign of Cyrus' hardware.

we love seeing parker in vents in her element + CONFISCATE PASTRIES FOR HER

- - - - -

Nate: Any of you ever trimmed a bonsai?

Eliot: Well, you know, I did. I was in Osaka, and I met this Japanese policewoman at a geisha bar....

- - - - -

Parker (to Sophie): Why is Eliot pouring your tea? Hmm? Did you brainwash him again?

Sophie: Mm, neurolinguistic programming. It's amazing what you can do with the power of suggestion. "Sugar." "Squeezed." a few strategic pats on the arm.

(Sophie pats Eliot on the arm and he pours her more tea, then realizes what Sophie has done)

Eliot: Damn it!

Sophie: You owe me for that roach business!

Eliot: Sophie, not again. (walks away)

okay but SHES DONE THIS TO HIM BEFORE LMFAO + a bonus parker and hardison laughing

also parker was eating a plate of pastries so that means thE BOYS GOT SOME FOR HER I LOVE IT

- - - - -

parker and hardison go into the office and be like 👀👀👀 wow he’s lonely

- - - - -

Eliot: Nobody else thinks it's weird that you can just buy anybody's yearbook online?

Hardison: You know, it's real cute, man, how you still believe in privacy

- - - - -

Nate: Here we go. Uh, Mrs. Zavransky, math teacher. Now, I bet if we turn to the cheerleaders... (turns page) Yes. Oh, Mandy. Mandy Babson.

Parker: What does the "DD" Mean?

Eliot: Yeah, right...

Nate: Seriously?

Hardison: Yeah, right. Two scoops of ice cream, just perfect.

she’s baby leave her alone

also bless hardison for not wanting to tarnish her

- - - - -

Parker: Aw, I feel bad for the nerd.

Eliot: Don't feel bad for this guy. Getting bullied in high school Is still no excuse for propping up dictators. He got bulled his whole high-school career. He's not criminal.

Sophie: Um...

Parker: Yeah, he is.

Sophie: Don't think about that.

Eliot: Not a bad criminal.

Hardison: Hey, what makes you think I got bullied in high school?

Eliot: Well, "A," You got a green hornet doll.

Hardison: Well, first of all, it's a limited-edition action figure. Second, it is green lantern. Educate yourself.

Eliot: Wow.

Hardison: Now pay attention. Get it right.

eliot “not a bad criminal” spencer knows that hardison is a good person with solid morals

also, eliot to some extent knows about hardison’s action figues which means that he has either seen them or hardison has told him specifically that he had them. this means that they have had, even if eliot seemed annoyed, some sort of conversations/hardison-talking-at-him-conversations and eliot LISTENED to a certain extend that he was able to recall this

- - - - -

Nate: Guys, wait, wait. Listen, listen. We got a locker combination, we have a teacher's name, and we have a crush. So, Duberman, he has made his old high school his Roman room.

Parker: Of course.

Nate: "Of course"? What's a Roman room? You have no idea, right? You know—

Parker: Nn.

Nate: You don't have any idea? It's a, it's a memory technique. Each of his passwords corresponds to an object in a space that he's intimately familiar with. In his case, the hallway of his old high school where he kept his locker. Now, if I were to make this bar my Roman room, everything I need to remember is right here. For instance, This, uh... My bank password would be "Balmoor." And my e- mail password would be Fitzy, here.

- - - - -

Parker: Hey. Nate just gave us his passwords.

Hardison: No, but I got all his passwords. You want to see his Netflix queue? He's got, like, every season of "Rockford files" every season of "Sex and the city," That show "Psych”.

chaotic children

- - - - -

Parker: You want to break into the high school? I could do that blindfolded. Yeah let's do it blindfolded.

HER HER HAVE FUN

- - - - -

Hardison: What do you know? Class of '85 has a reunion coming up in 8 months.

Nate: Hmm.

they all smile conspiratorially and eliot’s smile in specific gave me serotonin

- - - - -

(Parker sets up a video camera and walks past a board of photos)

Parker: So many awkward people in so many ugly outfits.

[Interior Van]

Hardison: Yeah, you're lucky you never went to high school. Nothing but heartbreak and homework.

[High School Gym]

Parker: Didn't you go to your prom?

[Interior Van]

Hardison: Uh...I was kind of busy.

[Flashback]

(a teenaged Hardison is sitting at a computer making a transfer from the Bank of Iceland)

Hardison: Looks like the Bank of Iceland's paying off Nana's medical bills. That's dope!

[Interior Van]

Hardison: Good times

- - - - -

Hardison: Besides, I'm sure you already had your high- school fun. Big man on campus. What, quarterback?

[Flashback]

Kid: Come on, Eliot. This is so lame. Quarterbacks do not take Home Ec.

Eliot: I got my reasons.

Kid: Phew! Let's get out of here.

Girl: Eliot, like this. (leans over Eliot, showing her cleavage) Knives are like people. It's all about the context.

[Exterior Dubertech]

Eliot: I had many interests

- - - - -

hardison getting too into the high school drama lmao

- - - - -

Hardison: Not exactly. (looking at information on monitors) She's a hired gun.

[Hallway]

Sophie: An assassin? Nikki’s an assassin?

[Interior Van]

Hardison: Yeah, I guess we weren't the only ones with the bright idea to pose as alumni. This chick's connected to wet work jobs All up and down the East coast. Russian mob, Italian mob. There's a New Zealand mob?

her name is miranda miles *squints at the file on hardison’s computer* bruh no way she’s only 25 ??? they even give her height and weight but I guess that’s how all wanted files go

also in one of the commentaries didn’t they say that she was married to that other assassin ???

- - - - -

(a piece of door falls in and the Vezarat leader looks in)

Vezarat Leader: The health inspector?

Eliot: I'm gonna have to dock you again

LMFAO

also he’s wearing a grey flannel under his jacket

- - - - -

(Eliot knees the leader in the face, then pulls him up and punches him in the head. He turns to duck a blow from the other man and hits him in the head with one of Duberman’s chess trophies)

Eliot: Checkmate.

(Eliot throws the trophy down on the man. Behind him the leader stands up and cracks his neck)

Eliot: Or not.

he did the lil flip thing with the trophy

- - - - -

(Sophie hits Nikki in the head with the extinguisher and takes off her shoes)

Sophie: I always hated cheerleaders.

(Nikki swings several times and Sophie blocks each blow with the extinguisher, hurting Nikki’s wrist)

Sophie: It's mean girls like you that always ruined high school for the rest of us!

Nikki: What the hell are you talking about?

(Nikki kicks but Sophie moves to one side. Nikki tries to punch but Sophie blocks with the extinguisher. Sophie dodges a kick and hits Nikki in the head, then pushes her down and runs away. Nikki grabs her gun and fires after Sophie, missing her)

Nikki: Damn it

- - - - -

Nikki: Now, why would I do that?

(Parker walks forward and tasers Nikki in the neck)

Nikki: Ohh!

Nate: That's why.

(Nikki falls to the ground, convulsing. Parker grabs her legs and starts to pull her away)

Parker: Catering, what a business

we love to see parker tasering people

- - - - -

on today’s edition of things that aren’t weapons that eliot uses as weapons, our guy literally used one of the goons’ bodies to hit another goon and send them both down

what a king

- - - - -

Mandy: Your votes are in for the king and queen of the reunion! And the lucky winner is, Grace Peltz and Drake McIntyre!

Schmitty: Mac attack! Yeah!

(the crowd escorts Nate and Sophie forward)

Nate: Uh, very funny, Hardison.

Hardison: Oh, you think I did this? Naw, man, I don't rig elections. I mean, I could, but...

Sophie: Parker, Was this you?

Parker: (hanging upside down) I didn't even know they had kings and queens in high school

- - - - -

Hardison (looks up): May I have this dance, miss?

(Parker lowers herself on her line and they begin dancing)

Parker: So this is what high school was like, huh?

Hardison: Ah...Pretty much.

Eliot: Hello?

[Exterior Dubertech]

(Eliot walks out of the building as Sloane gets to his feet)

Eliot: Everybody having a good time at the dance? Anybody wonder if Eliot made it out?

(Eliot punches Sloan, who falls back into the bushes)

Eliot: Does anybody wonder if Eliot's alive? Hello?!

[High School Gym]

(the two couples continue to dance as the music plays)

🥰 parker’s feet not touching the floor 🥰

also aww poor eliot someone care about him pls

#leverage #leverage 3.02 #leverage 3x02 #the reunion job #leverage season 3 #season 3 #notable moments #mine

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noona-clock · 6 years ago

Text

Now or Never - Part 6

Genre: College!AU

Pairing: Jae x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: Emotional angst, mentions of death

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 | Words: 2,747

Well.

It had certainly been an interesting couple of days.

You had (finally) broken up with your boyfriend, so you were now officially single. But you also weren’t sure if you still had a best friend because the last time you’d seen him, he had been incredibly upset. Like, you’d never seen him that upset.

And... he had also told you that he was in love with you.

But then your ex-boyfriend had told you that you were in love with him. Him being Jae, your best friend.

So, you really had no idea what was going to happen.

At this point, you honestly didn’t know what to say to him! Yes, you had broken up with Kevin, but now that you knew romantic feelings were involved -- at least, on his part -- you were nervous that things wouldn’t be the same between you two. Would he even want to talk to you after blurting out his confession like that? Would he be embarrassed? Did he still actually have feelings for you or had the past few days been enough to make him realize you were not the kind of person he should be in love with?

Thankfully, the start of classes for the new semester was a good distraction for your mess of a life. You busied yourself by memorizing your new schedule, renting your textbooks, mapping out your routes between classes.

But then you sat down in your first class of the semester, a psychology class, and your professor introduced himself.

Dr. Little.

Obviously, your first instinct was to text Jae and say “Wow when did you become a doctor” because you liked to tease him about looking like Chicken Little and he hated it but he always still smiled at you when you called him that.

God, you missed him. You missed him so much that you weren’t even sure what to do about it. Because if you told him you missed him, would that give him false hope that you returned his feelings?

...But what if you did return his feelings?

Why weren’t you sure about this?! Wasn’t it supposed to be kind of simple?! You either liked a guy or you didn’t?!

So, why was it so difficult with Jae?!

And who were you supposed to talk to about it?! You always talked to Jae about this kind of stuff, but --

Oh, god. Oh, no. You had talked to him about your love life for all these years. Had he been suffering through that this whole time?!

Now you felt even worse than you already did. And, frankly, even more confused.

Jae already wasn’t a huge fan of school. But this semester? Yeah, he would rather be anywhere else doing anything else.

He still couldn’t believe he had just blurted out his feelings like that.

He had gone over to your apartment hoping -- praying -- that you had broken up with Kevin and had invited him over to tell him that. So, when he’d asked you first thing and you’d answered with ‘No,’ something in him had just snapped.

He had completely lost his temper, and for probably the first time in your entire friendship, he had been legitimately angry at you. He had been angry and frustrated and fed up, and when he’d heard you say no one would love you like Kevin did, he just couldn’t take it anymore.

And the next thing he knew, he was screaming the words ‘I love you.’ To you. And then you had thought he’d meant as a friend, so he’d just straight out corrected you and confessed and... then he’d left.

Sometimes, he had trouble believing that had actually happened.

He hadn’t heard from you since, and he hadn’t tried contacting you, so...

I guess... the two of you were over?

The most logical step to take next would be to try and get over you. There was absolutely no chance of starting a romantic relationship now, so the time to rid himself of his feelings for you was really now or never.

And if you weren’t going to talk to him again, he didn’t want it to be never. He didn’t want to live the rest of his life being in love with you if he was just never going to see you again. That sounded like torture.

The only problem was... he wasn’t sure if he could.

He’d been in love with you for over three years. How does one just... not be in love after that long? And he still loved you as a person, as a friend! He was losing not only the girl he was in love with but his best friend, too! His video game, deep conversation, late-night Taco Bell partner-in-crime!

Yes, he was tired of the unrequited love. But he wasn’t tired of the best friendship!

What if... he just sent you a quick text?

NO.

No, he wasn’t that weak. If you wanted to still be friends with him, you would have to be the one to contact him first.

(As long as you’d broken up with Kevin, of course.)

Thankfully, he was able to distract himself a bit more when classes started back up, but not as much as he wanted to. Like I said, he didn’t like school to begin with; having you by his side to help him study had made things worlds better, so now that he didn’t even have that, it was... It was just miserable.

After a full week of classes, Jae had simply had enough. He was barely paying attention to his professors, he had already skipped a few classes, and he was still constantly thinking about you.

It was clearly time for a change.

The first week of classes was probably -- no, definitely -- the hardest week you’d had in a long, long time.

Not including the Dr. Little/Chicken Little thing, there had been approximately two-hundred and sixteen times when you’d wanted to text Jae about something -- something funny you’d seen or a random thought you’d had. And that had just been during the first two days. You’d stopped counting on day three.

Clearly, this was not working. You had been trying to give Jae space, and you’d been trying to figure out what, if anything, was going on in your heart as it pertained to him... but you could barely focus on anything because you just missed him too damn much!

You hadn’t ever really thought about it before now, but Jae had become one of the biggest parts of your life over the last three and a half years. Not only that, he’d become one of the best parts of your life. And not having him in it?

It was slowly killing you.

You really just wanted to know how he was doing. Was he sleeping? Eating? Going to class?

On Friday afternoon after your economics class let out, you decided that enough was enough. You had to text him. If he didn’t feel like talking to you, then fine. But you wouldn’t know unless you tried.

Once you got to the bus stop in front of the math building, you fished your phone out of your backpack and brought it up to your face so you could unlock it and bring up your messages.

But a notification on the screen caught your eye.

It was from your school’s app. Your brow furrowed because they only sent out alerts when there was some sort of emergency.

Quickly, you scanned the notification... and your heart stopped.

There had been a fire -- there was a fire -- in one of the dorms.

Jae’s dorm.

Oh, my god. It -- it couldn’t be.

You blinked, hoping maybe you had read the notification wrong. But, no. That was definitely the name of Jae’s dorm, and that was definitely the word ‘fire.’

Your heart began to pound, and your stomach immediately filled up with knots and butterflies.

You didn’t know Jae’s class schedule this semester. It was Friday afternoon, so there was a good possibility he had one right now, but what if he didn’t?! What if he had decided to only take classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays so he could have Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays free for video games?! He’d done it once during your second year, so it wasn’t entirely unlikely!

What if he was in his dorm right now? What if the fire had started in the room right next door to him?! Or above him? Or below him?

Could he be engulfed in flames right now?

If he was -- if you never got the chance to see him again -- the last memory he would have of you would be the fight you’d had in your apartment. The last memory he would have of you would be a bad one.

And you would never get to tell him --

You almost gasped because the possibility of losing Jae struck such a deep, earnest fear in you. You had always said “What would I do without you?” but you’d never thought it could actually happen.

And now that it could, you had never felt such true panic in your life.

Without letting one more second pass, you bolted from the bus stop, heading over in the general direction of Jae’s dorm. As you ran, you managed to find Jae’s contact and press on it, calling him.

“Please pick up, please pick up,” you murmured under your breath. He had to pick up. He had to not be in his dorm right now.

When you heard his voicemail, you almost dropped your phone. The sound of your feet pounding on the sidewalk muffled the curse you let out, and even though your eyes were now beginning to fill with tears of panic, you kept running.

You ran until you saw the smoke billowing out from the dorm, and then you ran even harder.

Oh, god, Jae hadn’t answered his phone. What if all your fears were actually coming true? What if Jae had been in his room asleep? What if he hadn’t gotten out in time? What if he --

No, you couldn’t think like that.

By the time you reached the dorm, your heart was practically beating out of your ribcage and you were gasping for breath from having run for so long. Firetrucks were surrounding the building, and you stumbled over to a fireman who was obviously in charge of crowd control and not putting the fire out.

“Excuse me,” you choked out, not even in the right frame of mind to be embarrassed by just how out-of-breath you were.

The fireman put his hands on your shoulders and said, “Okay, calm down, Miss. Breathe. What can I help you with?”

“My -- friend,” you told him. “He’s -- his dorm -- he’s not answering --”

Before you could get any more words out, you heard someone call out your name.

But... not just any someone.

Your brow furrowed deeply and you whipped your head around, following the source of the voice.

And when your gaze landed on Jae, you truly almost fainted.

“Y/N,” he called out again, looking extremely concerned and confused at the same time.

You felt the fireman loosen his grip on your shoulders, and you immediately strode over toward Jae -- who, you now noticed, had dark hair and wasn’t wearing his glasses, but that wasn’t too important right now.

The tears which had filled your eyes just a minute ago now spilled over onto your cheeks, and you had to swallow down a rather large lump of emotion in your throat.

“Oh my god,” you murmured as you approached him, and as soon as you got close enough, you slid your arms around his neck and pulled him as close to you as he could get. “I thought -- I called you, and you didn’t answer --”

You were sobbing now, though it was a mixture of relief and terror by now. You felt his arms circle your waist, and he held you more tightly than he ever had before -- more tightly than anyone ever had before.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I was in class, my phone was on silent.”

You simply let yourself cry, letting out all of the emotions you’d been feeling the past week as you hugged Jae.

“It’s all right,” he said softly, one hand clutching your jacket at the small of your back and the other wedged underneath your backpack. “I’m fine. I’m right here.”

Once you were confident enough that you could speak without sounding completely unintelligible, you managed to blubber out, “I was so scared. I thought I might never see you again, and I --”

Jae simply held you tighter, shushing you. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Shut up!” you cried, though you did have to hold back a watery laugh. “That’s not funny.”

“Then why are you laughing?” he mumbled in your ear.

“I’m not.”

“You did. I heard you.”

You pulled away, stepping back so you could look at him, though you only moved your arms enough so you could hold his face in your hands.

His... super adorable yet incredibly handsome face.

“Damn, Y/N,” he muttered, lifting up one hand and brushing your tears away with his knuckle. “Why are you crying so much over me? I can’t be worth that many tears.”

You heard the teasing tone in his voice, so a hidden smile tugged at your lips, but you still scolded him for talking like that. “Be quiet, yes, you are.”

Jae’s lips pulled into a smile, and your breath caught in your throat.

“Are you done with classes?” you whispered.

Jae nodded once, and you reluctantly let your hands fall from his face.

“Come back to my place?” you asked a bit timidly. “Please. I... don’t want to leave you just yet.”

You hadn’t spoken to him for a week, and then you thought he’d literally died in a fire, and then he’d appeared out of nowhere, so you were experiencing a really crazy slew of emotions, and you just... you wanted to be with him. You wanted to reassure yourself that he was alive and he was with you.

And... also... you had some things you wanted to talk about.

After thinking you might have lost him forever, a few of the thoughts you hadn’t been able to figure out had become pretty clear, and...

You just had some things you wanted to talk about.

“Yeah,” Jae murmured, tipping his chin in a tiny nod.

You could see in his eyes that he was nervous, so you stood on your toes and slid your arms around his neck again.

“I missed you,” you said softly, closing your eyes and reveling in the comfort and security of his embrace.

You felt Jae take a deep breath, and he let it out slowly before he muttered, “I missed you, too,” in your ear.

You bit the inside of your cheek so you wouldn’t smile like a complete idiot, and you waited just a few more moments before pulling away again.

“Are we gonna go, or are you gonna hug me again?” Jae asked with just the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips.

“I can hug you again,” you replied with a sniffly chuckle because you knew Jae wasn’t the most affectionate of guys. You could probably count on two hands the number of times you’d hugged him, and you could definitely count on one hand the number of times he had hugged you - the night when he’d picked you up after the party incident being one of them.

“Nah, let’s go,” he said, putting a hand on your arm and forcing you in the direction of your apartment complex.

Just as you always did, you slid your arm through his, even briefly leaning your head on his shoulder as you began to walk back to your place. Jae kept his hands in his pockets and his gaze focused either on the ground or directly in front of him, and neither of you said a word.

You would pay every cent you had to be able to know what was going on inside Jae’s head right now. You knew what was going on in yours, and if he was thinking the same thing you were thinking...

Things were about to change. Possibly forever.

Part 7

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fictionliv-ing · 5 years ago

Text

Walk With You [Akaashi Keiji X Reader]

In which you’re an assistant manager for Fukurodani’s volleyball team and their vice-captain can’t help the things he feels for you.

view this on wattpad!

god he looks so good

Word count: 6.1k words

Genre: fluff, fluff, and more fluff

“Y/N-san.”

You look up from packing your bag, meeting the gaze of the Fukurodani volleyball team’s vice captain. “Hm?”

“Do you mind throwing us some balls for practice?” Akaashi asks, voice coming out smooth and collected, despite the fact that the team had just finished a particularly exhausting training session. You can’t help but notice the shyness in his voice, even though this isn’t the first time he’d made such a request.

“Aren’t you guys tired?” You ask, rising to your feet. He shrugs in response.

“Bokuto wants to spike more, and you know how he gets…”

You deadpan. “Yeah…I do.”

Leaving your bag to the side, you follow the dark-haired athlete to the ball basket positioned near the net.

“Hey hey hey, Y/N-chan! You’re helping us practice again?” Bokuto asks loudly. Your captain pops up out of nowhere, scaring the hell out of you as he restlessly flits around the court. “You’re so nice!”

You spend the rest of your evening helping Akaashi and Bokuto with their free practice. Even after the other team members have left, the two friends keep going at it, only stopping when it’s time to close up the gym.

Ever since you joined the volleyball club as a manager-in-training a couple of weeks ago, you’ve occasionally been asked by Akaashi to help with their post-training practice sessions. Because of this, you’ve gotten quite close to the duo and have grown familiar with Bokuto’s many mood swings. The three of you have all gotten to know each other, but despite the fact that Akaashi is your classmate, you don’t really interact with him outside of club activities. That’s probably because he’s the type to keep to himself and you find yourself hanging out with a couple of your other friends instead.

Of course, there are times when Akaashi is spending time with Bokuto in between classes, and the captain excitedly greets you in the hallways with that ridiculous energy of his. While Bokuto is always the first to approach and strike up a conversation with you, your classmate follows quietly behind his best friend and joins the conversation when he feels like it.

“Thanks for helping us again.” Akaashi says, picking up his bag after we finish cleaning up.

“It’s no problem.” you reply, shouldering your backpack.

“Say, Y/N-chan!” Bokuto pipes up. “What did you think of my spikes? Pretty good, huh?”

“Amazing as always!” You let out a laugh at his never-ending liveliness. “Do you ever run out of energy?”

“Hey, ‘Kaashi.”

“What is it?”

“You’re classmates with Y/N, right?” Bokuto wonders out loud, looking up at the sky as they walk home together.

“Yeah, why?”

“She still shows up to practice alone, why don’t you walk with her?”

The dark-haired boy shrugs. “What difference would it make? We’d both still make it to the gym.”

Bokuto’s shoulders drop at his best friend’s aloofness. “That’s not the point, Akaashi! Don’t you want to get to know her? Don’t you think she’s cute?”

An image of Y/N laughing pops into his mind. Akaashi pauses, but it’s a second too long.

“HA! I knew it! I knew you found her attractive!” His best friend exclaims triumphantly, a scheming grin appearing on his face.

“Where are you going with this, Bokuto-san?” He sighs. No use in denying it.

“I’m saying you should make a move!” The owl-haired captain says giddily. “Walk her to practice, talk to her in between classes, become a close friend, ask her out!”

“Okay, you’re getting ahead of yourself.” Akaashi states. “Wouldn’t that be inappropriate? Dating the team manager?”

“Manager-in-training.” Bokuto corrects. “And no, it wouldn’t be. I guess, not as long as you manage to keep it strictly professional during training. Besides, this is high school, not some big-league team! I say go for it.”

Akaashi returns home that night and falls into bed thinking about Bokuto’s words. Could he do it? He’d never been the type to approach girls out of his own accord, preferring to keep to himself and admire them from afar. He simply hadn’t encountered someone he liked enough to pursue a relationship with.

But then images of you handing him a water bottle after practice, smiling brightly as you commend his hard work overtake his thoughts, and he find his chest swelling at the thought of being able to hold your hand --

Shaking his head, Akaashi lays on his back and stares up at the ceiling. What was he doing, already thinking about starting a relationship? He should start with forming a solid friendship first. The smaller things. Baby steps.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N!” Your friend calls as she exits the classroom.

“See you!” You reply, taking your time in packing your things and disposing your leftover scratch papers from the previous class’ math exercise. You still have some time before practice starts, anyways, there’s no hurry in getting to the gym.

“Y/N-san.” Comes a voice behind you.

When you look up, you’re surprised to see Akaashi standing there, bag packed and slung over his shoulder. “Akaashi-san, hello! Is there anything you needed?” That’s weird, he never talks to me outside of practice…

“Would you, um-“ He clears his throat. You raise an eyebrow. He’s never been one to stutter, either…did something happen after practice last night? “Would you like to walk with me to the gym?”

Oh.

“Sure, Akaashi-san.” You reply smiling, moving to quickly pack your bag. You walk out the door with Akaashi following close behind you, the both of you falling into step beside each other as you make your way down the stairs and out of the building.

“You don’t have to add -san, you know.” He says. You turn to him with a questioning look on your face, prompting him to explain further. “You can just call me Akaashi.”

You grin playfully. “Only when you start calling me Y/N too. Without the -san.”

Chuckling softly, Akaashi watches you with intrigued eyes before looking away eventually. “Alright.”

Soon enough, the two of you split up to change in your respective club rooms. You expect to next see him in the gym, practicing with Bokuto or someone else, but when you exit the girls’ changing room, he’s standing there, leaning on the railing, waiting for you still.

“Shall we?” he says, pushing off the metal bars that keep him from falling to the ground. “Y/N?”

Growing warm at the gentle way he looks at you, you avoid eye-contact as you mentally curse his composure. “Let’s go.” And stop looking at me like that.

The pair of you arrive at the gym ten minutes before practice starts, and unsurprisingly, a loud greeting is the first to welcome you.

“Akaashi! You didn’t wait for me after cla-” Bokuto whines, running to his best friend’s side. Realizing that his vice-captain hadn’t arrived to practice alone, the team captain grins knowingly at his friend before flashing you a bright smile. “Y/N-chan!”

Offering a smile of your own, you return his greeting sans all the extra energy. “Good afternoon, Bokuto-san!”

When Bokuto begins to drag his best friend away to practice and you’re being called by Kaori to help with setting up the equipment, you exchange one last wave with Akaashi before heading off to tend to your duties.

“So, you took my advice, huh?” Akaashi doesn’t even need to look to know that his best friend’s snickers are accompanied by a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Shut up, Bokuto-san.”

“Y/N, watch out!”

At the sound of your name, you turn—but not quickly enough. You only have time to bring a hand up to your defense before a volleyball hits your arm harshly, leaving behind a bright red patch of pain.

“Ow!” you hiss, falling on your rear from the impact and leaning against the wall behind you.

“Y/N-channn!”

Unsurprisingly, the captain is the first to run to your side to check on you. “Does it hurt a lot? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hit it your way…”

As Bokuto rambles on and on about how he didn’t mean to hit you, the other team members come to gather around, growing noisier by the second.

“Y/N-san. Does it hurt much?”

“Konoha! Get some ice!”

“We’re all out! Wataru finished the last of it earlier.”

“I’m sorry!”

“Don’t die, senpai!”

“I’m okay, guys, really.” You cradle your throbbing arm as you smile sheepishly at the group of boys, their captain on his knees, begging for forgiveness. “It’s fine, Bokuto-san. It doesn’t hurt that much! I’ll probably just need some ice.”

Doing your best to calm the captain down proves to be futile as everyone can sense him spiraling into one of his moods. “I’ll visit the nurse, just to make sure!”

“I’ll go with you.”

Everyone turns to the source of the unexpected voice. Akaashi stares right back with his usual stoic expression, not understanding the looks of surprise his teammates are wearing. “What? She’ll need someone to go with her.”

“Right.” You say, beginning to pull yourself up to your feet. Akaashi is quick to help you up, resting a supportive hand on your back when you fully stand. You try to ignore the warmness of the gesture, his fingertips soft, gentle, and burning hot against the small of your back—or maybe it’s just your imagination. Inwardly shaking your head, you mentally scold yourself. You shouldn’t be focusing on the heat of his palm or the fact that he’s standing so close to you. Your arm is injured after all. “I’ll be back as soon as I- Bokuto-san, please stand up. It was an accident, I’m completely fine!”

“Y/N-chan! I’m so sorry I hurt you!” Completely ignoring your words, the team captain continues to cry out his despair at the accident he’d caused. You’re about to reassure him one more time that you were just fine when Akaashi speaks up.

“You guys know what to do. We’ll be back soon.” He tells the rest of his teammates, leading you to the gym exit. The two of you walk to the clinic in silence, not really saying much. Akaashi speaks up first.

“How’s your arm?” It’s a simple question, but his voice always makes anything he says sound so smooth and alluring.

You shrug. “Not that bad. I’ve seen worse, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I take it back, I don’t know why I said that.” You smile sheepishly, chuckling under your breath, embarrassed at your nervous blunder. “I’m fine, really, I am. I just I don’t want Bokuto worrying too much over this…”

“Oh, he will. You know him well-enough to know that he will.” Akaashi lets out a chuckle of his own, the sound escaping his lips sounding far too elegant to be casual. You’re caught off-guard; for a while, you watch at him curiously, wondering what it is about him that makes him so…so…ugh. Cursing inwardly, you feel stumped, unable to find the word to describe the man in front of you.

“What is it?” Akaashi asks, raising an eyebrow.

Flustered at having been caught staring, you straighten and look ahead, cheeks warming. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

“About what?”

At that exact moment, the two of you arrive at the clinic, and you give him a thankful smile before slipping inside.

Phew. That was a close call.

Practice had let out earlier than usual, and by the time the two of you make it back to the gym with an ice pack pressed against your arm, the other team members are lightly playing around, waiting for the return of their assistant manager and their vice-captain. Akaashi isn’t surprised at all when he sees his best friend lazily practicing his serves, seemingly still dejected over the fact that he had hit you with one of his spikes. Once again, Bokuto is the first one to run up to the pair of you, bombarding with you with questions and apologies. The rest of the team follows closely behind, making sure you’re okay before proceeding to clean up the gym and make their way home.

“Bokuto-san.” Akaashi addresses, walking up to his best friend who is picking up stray volleyballs. “Do you mind if I go ahead? I want to walk her home.”

Having picked himself up from his mood swing after you confirmed that the nurse had said there was nothing to worry about, the captain sidles up to Akaashi, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and teasing his vice-captain. “Ooooo ‘Kaashi you’re smooth, huh? Taking advantage of the situation-“

“I’m not taking advantage of anything or anyone.” The vice-captain interrupts. “I just want to make sure she’s completely alright and that she gets home safe.”

“Mhmm. Okay, Akaashi~” Bokuto smirks, returning to his task. “Whatever you say!”

Ignoring the knowing smile that his best friend gives him, Akaashi walks away, heading to the club room to change out of his practice clothes and to fetch his things. Leaning against the railing, he waits until you step out of the girls’ club room. Seeing you hold the ice pack to your arm and struggle to keep your backpack on one shoulder at the same time, he steps forward, taking hold of the strap of your bag. “Allow me.”

“Oh, that’s fine, I can carry it-“

“You’re struggling, there’s no point in trying to hide it.” Akaashi cuts you off, taking the bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He turns and gestures for you to follow him. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

“Are you sure you want to walk me home? Is it out of your way?” You ask, falling into step beside him. When you tell him the name of the district where you live, Akaashi raises an eyebrow.

“I live there too.” He says.

You straighten. “Oh.”

On the way home, the two of you naturally fall into casual conversation, sharing stories and interests.

Keep her talking. Akaashi thinks to himself, enjoying your company. Her voice is a beautiful sound, and there’s so much to learn about her.

Whenever Akaashi says something that makes you laugh, the sound echoes in his ears like it’s the only thing he can hear. The sight of your face in joyous laughter is enough to render him speechless. Admiring the way the moonlight washes over your face and illuminates your features as you talk excitedly about this new book you’d started reading, he finds himself wanting to freeze this moment in time, maybe even take a picture to preserve the memory.

Not that he needs a visual aid to remember it, of course. The image of you laughing is now permanently etched into his brain. And he wants more. Thinking about the different ways he could get you to laugh and smile, Akaashi doesn’t even realize that he’s now just watching you with soft eyes and a small smile on his lips.

“But in the next chapter, she starts learning how to use magic, and it’s the coolest thing ever—" You stop mid-sentence. “Akaashi?”

Snapping out of his trance, he raises his eyebrows at you. “Hm?”

“Why were you looking at me like that?”

Putting on his best innocent face, Akaashi avoids your gaze and looks away. “Like what?”

“I don’t know, it was almost like you were in love with me or somethi-- oh! This is me.”

Almost choking at her words, he clears his throat nervously. Looking around, Akaashi takes in his surroundings. The two of you have come to a stop in front of your house. “You live here?”

Nodding, you turn to face him. “Yeah, why?”

“Well,” He pauses, glancing over his shoulder. “I live back there. Just a couple streets down.”

“Oh? I didn’t know that.”

“How come I’ve never seen you in this area before?”

You tilt your head, Akaashi’s heart leaping at the action. God, you look so cute. “What do you mean?”

Trying to ignore the way his stomach flutters as he meets your gaze, Akaashi continues. “I mean, you head home after practice more or less the same time I do, yet I never see you around. Which is weird, because technically, I should’ve bumped into you at least once by now.”

“Oh. That’s probably because I practically speed-walk home every day.” You say, smiling sheepishly. Akaashi simply raises an eyebrow, prompting you to expound. “With how late practice ends, it’s pretty dark by the time I have to walk home. And, well…it’s not the smartest idea for me to be taking my time, I mean, who knows what could happen to me?

“It’s a scary world for women.” You mumble, growing quiet and shifting your gaze down to your feet. Akaashi’s heart drops at the tone of your voice, disliking the disappearance of your usual brightness. You’d tried to hide it, but he could tell that the simple act of walking home alone terrified you. He tries not to think about what you could have possibly experienced to make you feel so unsafe, instead choosing to bring a finger to your chin and tilt your head upwards so he can meet your eyes again (where he got the courage to do such a thing is a mystery).

“You won’t have to feel that way anymore.” He tells you sincerely, voice laced with unwavering confidence. “I’ll walk you home every day.”

Taken aback by the sudden offer, your eyes widen by a fraction.

“Really? Are you sure?” You ask, looking up at him with questioning eyes. “I’m assuming you walk home with Bokuto, won’t he be bothered if you suddenly stop?”

“You can join us. We split up halfway, anyways.” Akaashi answers, hand falling back to his side. “I don’t want you to always feel the need to look over your shoulder and watch your back. So, I’ll watch it for you.”

When you say nothing and continue to stare at him, he rethinks his diction. “I mean that in the most innocent way possible, I promise—”

You let out a soft laugh, effectively stopping him from finishing his sentence. “I know. Don’t worry, I know.”

Taking your bag from him, you give him a thankful smile for the second time that day. “Thanks, Akaashi. It means a lot.”

After you’ve both said your goodbyes, Akaashi turns and walks back to his house with a grin painting his lips, wondering what else he could do to keep you smiling the way you do.

You do your best to fall asleep quickly that night. You really do.

It becomes apparent that sheer willpower is not enough for you to forget about the events of the night. Your thoughts are preoccupied with the dark-haired boy that you had somehow befriended, images of him swimming around in your head as your attention flits from one moment to another.

The way he’d glowed under the soft light of the moon, the way he had watched you quietly and listened to every word that left your mouth, the way he’d made you laugh, even the feeling of his fingers on your chin and back still lingered. You remember the way Akaashi had walked you home, his presence beside you the most comforting thing you’d felt in a while. The mere thought of him brings a smile to your lips. It was the first time you’d felt that safe with someone.

When you leave your house the next morning, a couple of packed sandwiches in your hand to eat on the way to school, you’re surprised to see that leaning against a streetlamp, is the same boy that had occupied your thoughts the night before.

“Akaashi?” At the sound of his name, he looks up and greets you a good morning.

“What are you doing?” You ask, walking up to him. He falls into step beside you as naturally as he had the night before, causing you to raise an eyebrow at his actions.

“Accompanying you to school.” Akaashi answers simply. “Might as well just walk together, right? Seeing as how we’re practically neighbors.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I haven’t even seen where you live yet.” You chuckle, then pause. “Were you waiting for long?”

“Not really, no.” When you give him a disbelieving look, he responds with a shake of his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

You decide to let it go and instead, offer him a sandwich. “Have you eaten breakfast yet?”

He shakes his head and takes one for himself, thanking you before biting into it. “This is good.”

“You think so?” You ask brightly, smiling down at your handiwork. “I made them last night before going to bed. I’m always craving something to eat in the morning.”

“You did a great job.” Akaashi commends, taking another bite.

Your walk to school is filled with light conversation and comfortable silences, the both of you enjoying each other’s company.

Over the next couple of months, Akaashi makes more of an effort to grow closer to you. He sticks to his word and walks you home after practice every day, even waiting for you in the morning on your way to school, and sticking around after class to accompany you to the gym. He does his best to help you in the smallest ways, helping you carry the things you have to bring around, assisting you with your manager duties during his break times, and even helping you understand the lessons in confusing classes.

He’d been a complete angel. That, he was sure of.

Which is why he could not, for the life of him, understand why it was so easy for you to be dragged away by Nekoma’s team captain the minute you guys had arrived at Shinzen High for the summer training camp.

Akaashi could only watch as Kuroo waltzed up to you, introduced himself, and smoothly started a conversation. Slinging an arm around your shoulders, the tall boy leads you towards the other teams who had just arrived, not wasting any time in getting you acquainted with the Karasuno and Nekoma team members.

“Akaashi, you’re staring.”

Jumping at the sudden voice in his ear, Akaashi side-eyes his best friend. “No, I’m not.” He denies, pretending to busy himself with his duffel bags.

“You’re not as slick as you think you are, you know? Have you confessed to her yet?” Bokuto says, walking with his vice-captain to the dorms.

At the captain’s words, Akaashi turns to his best friend immediately, a nervous look crossing his face. “Seriously? Am I really that obvious?” He hadn’t even told--

Letting out a boisterous cackle, Bokuto grins teasingly at him. “I’m only joking. You’re good.

“Though it wouldn’t take much for someone to be able to tell that you like her.”

The rest of the day doesn’t get much better. You quickly befriend the other boys, and every time Akaashi tries approaching you to help you carry the towels or water bottles you prepare for the Fukurodani team, someone else from Nekoma or Karasuno beat him to it. If you’re not hanging out with the other athletes during their break times, you’re enjoying the company of the Karasuno managers.

Other than that, Akaashi’s luck is going great. They had yet to lose a match, successfully keeping up a winning streak. The only thing missing from the entire equation is you celebrating alongside them.

“You guys,” You say, holding back a laugh. “are incredibly uneven.”

On one side of the net stands your new friends, Kuroo and Lev, with the tall blonde from the Karasuno team—Tsukishima, you think? The opposing team is composed of Bokuto, Akaashi, and the bright first year from Karasuno, Hinata. The longer you look at them and their height difference, the harder it is for you to keep your laughter in. “You sure you don’t want to switch around?”

“She’s right.” Akaashi adds. While Bokuto and Hinata look positively unbothered, it seems you’re not the only one who thinks this is an unbalanced match. In terms of height, that is. “This is unfair.”

“Eh, it’s fine. We should do things we can’t do in official matches.” Kuroo’s eyes glint mischievously, smiling challengingly at his opponents. Sparing one last look at them, you chuckle to yourself and walk back to your position at the scoreboard. You spend the next hour keeping track of the scores for both teams, cheering for both sides enthusiastically.

“You guys~” a sing-song voice comes from the gym entrance. There stand your fellow managers, the two of them leering teasingly at the rest of you. “If you don’t hurry, the cafeteria will close soon and you won’t have dinner~”

In a flash, the boys panic and run out the door, Tsukishima and Akaashi being the calmer ones of the bunch. After bidding your senpais a goodbye, you follow them out and make your way to the dining hall as well.

Standing alone outside the gym, Akaashi had stayed behind and is waiting to accompany you on the way.

Dinner is eventful, and you sit in the corner of the table beside Lev. Akaashi takes the seat in front of you, quietly eating his meal as Bokuto engages in a loud conversation with Kuroo and the first years. Neither of you say much, you focusing on savoring your food and admiring the gorgeous boy in front of you and Akaashi occasionally pitching in to the conversation with witty comments at his best friend and the Nekoma captain.

Akaashi takes a deep breath.

He’s going to do it. Tonight.

All week, he’s had great luck. They had barely lost any of the practice matches and had improved greatly in their time here. His tosses were much better as well, his teammates having noticed and complimenting him on them. He hadn’t forgotten anything at home either, and nothing bad had happened to him so far. With only one day left before the camp ends, he was willing to bet that he has nothing but good fortune ahead.

His best friend’s words echo in his head. Have you confessed to her yet?

Come tomorrow morning, the answer to that question would be yes.

Doing his best to appear inconspicuous, Akaashi stands outside the dining hall, nervously fidgeting as he waits for you to finish with your post-meal manager duties. After what seems like decades, the double doors finally open and he straightens automatically, expecting to see you. Kaori and Yukie walk out instead, conversing with each other and stopping when they notice their setter’s presence.

“Akaashi-san! Did you need something?” Kaori greets.

“Oh, it’s no problem—”

“Y/N-chan! Akaashi’s here for you!” Yukie calls out cheekily.

Akaashi’s eyes widen. How’d they know? “No, it’s fine, I can wait—”

“Akaashi!” You come to the door with a skip in your step and a smile on your face, still wearing an apron and cleaning gloves. As the other two managers excuse themselves and walk away with knowing smiles, he can’t help but notice how good the black and white apron looks on you. “What is it?”

Imagining how you would look wearing his jacket and jersey, Akaashi brings his eyes up to meet your gaze. “I was wondering if you’d like to join me on a walk? After you’re done.”

You nod rather enthusiastically, and Akaashi notices how your smile only grows bigger at his request. “Of course. I just have to finish up in here, I’m almost done! I’ll be out as soon as I can.”

True to your word, Akaashi has to wait onl a couple of minutes before you come rushing out the door again, giving him a sweet smile as you smooth down your hair and clothes. He returns your smile with a small grin, the two of you walking side by side under the night sky. The both of you find yourselves wandering around the open field, the conversation centering around the past week and how you found your first training camp with them.

Being reminded of just how little time you spent together in the past week, Akaashi can’t help the question that falls out of his lips. “So, you’ve gotten close to Kuroo, huh?”

You give him a teasing smirk. “Jealous, are we?”

“No, no. Just observing.” He lies, trying his best to sound convincing. “He seems to be especially fond of you.”

You shrug. “The other managers don’t really give other teams any attention, and he told me about how they don’t have a manager for Nekoma at all. Besides, he’s a nice guy. He does get a little flirty at times, but that’s just who he is.

“What about you?” You ask, turning to look at the boy beside you. “Made any new friends?”

“Other than Tsukishima, Hinata, and Lev? Not really.” Akaashi answers. “It’s been a great camp though. Luckily, we only lost a handful of our matches. This week was really good.”

He swallows nervously. Here goes.

“Speaking of luck,” he starts, voice extra timid. “I have something to tell you.”

“Hm?” You pause when he stops in his tracks, turning to face him properly. “Something on your mind?”

“Yeah.” Akaashi says, mustering all the confidence that hadn’t left him yet and looking you straight in the eyes. “You.”

You blink, confused. “Me?”

Heart racing with nervousness, he takes another deep breath, willing himself to maintain eye contact. “I like you, Y/N.”

There it is. No backing out now,

Your eyes widen, breath hitching in your throat. “Oh.”

“And I just,” Uncharacteristically stumbling over the words that fall out of his mouth, Akaashi lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m not the best at talking, but I didn’t want to do it over the phone, or with a letter, or anything other than a verbal confession, because you deserve better than that. For the past few months, I’ve been doing my best to show you that I care, but I wasn’t sure if you actually noticed. I didn’t get to do that this past week, though, which I regret, but every time I tried approaching you, you were already talking to someone else, and I didn’t want to interrupt. I admit, I lied earlier when I said I wasn’t jealous, but—”

Realizing that you aren’t saying anything, he stops mid-speech to gauge your reaction. You’re still staring at him with wide eyes and silent lips, an expression he sees as anything but positive. “Shit, sorry. Was it something I said? I should stop talking, shouldn’t I?”

At your lack of response, Akaashi assumes rejection. As his heart falls and his last sliver of confidence disappears, he looks down at the ground, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Guess my luck ran out.

“It’s late. We should probably get back to the dorms.” He mumbles dejectedly, turning away.

“Wait, no, Akaashi—” Your hand grabs at his arm, successfully stopping his movement and keeping him facing you. “I’m sorry. I was just processing everything.”

At the tone in your voice, Akashi raises his head to look up at you, daring to entertain the tiny bubble of hope in his chest.

“I do notice.” You say gently, giving him a soft smile. “You walk with me every single day, morning and night, even though you don’t have to. That alone speaks volumes, ‘Kaashi.”

He allows himself a small smile at the affirmation.

“And you don’t have to be jealous about anyone.” You say, stepping closer. Akaashi allows his hand to be pulled from where it nestled in his pocket, your hand trailing down his arm to lace your fingers together. “I like you too.”

The bubble of hope in his chest bursts into an explosion of joy, eyes widening and chest growing warm at your words. “Really?”

“Really.” You confirm, laughing softly. “At the risk of sounding all kinds of cheesy right now, I really do feel the safest when I’m walking with you, you know.”

His gaze turns soft as he pulls you closer for a warm hug. Nuzzling the side of your head, he breathes in your scent, relishing the feel of you in his arms. His skin burns where you touch it, his brain unable to process anything else.

Akaashi pulls back a little to look you in the eyes, marveling at how mesmerizing they look under the stars. “Do you, um,” Dammit, what is wrong with me? Just say it, Keiji, say it! “Do you want to—”

“Yes.” You answer without waiting for him to finish, eyes glittering and lips smiling. It’s brighter than any other smile Akaashi has seen you wear, and his heart leaps at the realization that it’s because of him that you’re this happy. “Yes, of course, I want to date you.”

Smiling widely, Akaashi leans his forehead against yours. The two of you walk back to the dorms, sides pressed up against each other. Even after he kisses your cheek goodnight and crawls into his futon, the smile on his face and the giddy feeling in his chest don’t fade.

“You’re in a good mood today.”

At his best friend’s comment, Akaashi looks up from his stretching position on the ground. It’s the last day of the training camp, and everyone is getting their fill of last-minute practice before they all have to depart at sunset. “What do you mean? I’m feeling…normal.”

“Really?” Bokuto pries, crouching down by his vice-captain’s side. “Because around this time of day, you’d be glaring over at that.”

Following his friend’s outstretched finger, Akaashi’s eyes come to rest on a small group at the opposite side of the gym, where Kuroo stands with an arm resting on your shoulder as he and Yaku converse with you.

“Glaring’s not really something you schedule.” Akaashi shrugs. “What about them?”

Bokuto’s brow furrows in confusion. “Dude. This entire week, you’ve been radiating jealousy at how close Kuroo and Y/N-chan have gotten. Where’d all that go?”

“Why should I be jealous?” Thinking back to what you had told him the previous night, Akaashi calmly proceeds with his stretching. “Kuroo’s really friendly. That’s just who he is.”

The owl-haired captain stares at his best friend disbelievingly. Akaashi may have been able to fool everyone else, but he couldn’t fool his best friend. Bokuto may be dumb, but he knows Akaashi, and he knows that his best friend had been extremely jealous of Nekoma’s captain this past week. “Did something happen between the two of you or--?”

Before finishing his question, Bokuto gasps loudly. “Hang on. Kaori told me that you were with Y/N last night. What did you do?”

Akaashi opens his mouth to answer honestly, but at that same moment, Yukie calls them over for their last practice match against Karasuno.

Later. The vice-captain says with his eyes.

“Sit with me later?”

“Of course.”

“Can I hold your hand?” You ask shyly, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. “Keiji-kun?”

Not a lot of people choose to call Akaashi by his first name. He stares down at the girl occupying the seat next to him on the bus home, admiring the way the late afternoon sun bathes you in a warm glow. At the way his name sounds when it rolls off your tongue like that, his eyes brighten, flashing a vibrant color of blue. The small grin on his lips turns into full-fledged smile as he forgoes a verbal response and takes your hand in his. Leaning in close, Keiji rests his forehead against yours, chuckling at the pink tinge of your cheeks.

“Okay.” He finally says. “My turn.

“Can I kiss you?”

Something flashes in your eyes as he all but closes the distance between you, waiting patiently for your consent like the true gentleman he always has been. It’s your turn to act instead of speaking, and you press your lips against his in a chaste kiss. You start to pull away, but Keiji follows after you, leaning forward to keep your lips together. You find yourself latching onto his arm and hugging it tightly as a giddy feeling threatens to throw your body into overdrive, your chest swelling at the foreign sensation.

Keiji’s kiss is exactly like him; gentle and sweet. Slowly, he coaxes you into it, sticking to what he knows you’re comfortable with. He brings his other hand up to trace your jaw, his fingertips leaving wildfires in their wake. When you finally part, he looks down at you with tender eyes as you nuzzle his jaw affectionately.

“Walk me home tonight?” You mumble in a daze.

You feel him lean his chin on top of your head, prompting you to rest against his shoulder. And even though you already know his answer, Keiji still surprises you with his response.

“I’d walk with you anywhere.”

Bonus:

“Ohhh, they’re so cute!”

“Yukie, take a picture, quick!”

“Take lots!”

“Komi, stop pouting! It’s not their fault you’re single!”

“Group selfie with the sleeping couple!”

Bokuto peers at his friends from his seat, smiling at the way they’d fallen asleep cuddled together.

Something had happened last night, indeed.

masterlist

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