#I’m curious how class is next week now that we all have a new prospective on how things should be

[chemicalpink]

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Words: 4.7k

Genre: smut, angst, fluff if you squint really hard, childhood friends to lovers AU

Warnings: unprotected sex, bathroom sex, infidelity, JK is a heartthrob that is bad at feelings, YN realises she’s been in love with JK all along.

A/N: this is me trying to write longer fics, I liked how this one came out yayyy. This goes out to the @thebtswritersclub​ monthly prompt _____ to lovers, in this case it’s childhood friends to lovers. I just- I really liked how it came out, I’m so excited to know what you guys think of it.

Summary: Falling in love is such a curious thing in life, Jungkook would know best, after pinning over you for years on end, only to have his best friend take away his opportunity, or does he?

The sun was shining brightly over the park as you made your way down the slide, hot skin scorching at the contact with the yellow plastic, although you couldn’t bring yourself to care as much as your mother would, meeting Sungho at the end of it, who was covering his eyes as best as his arms would allow him to do, summer was almost coming to an end and you two had decided to spend every single second of it together, much to both of your mothers’ dismay who had long decided to take turns to tire both of you out by the neighbourhood park, nothing too exciting, if it weren’t for your young imaginative minds combined, which turned you into the closest a six year old could get to being a menace.

As you smiled brightly at your friend, you couldn’t help but turn your head towards an almost inaudible whimper coming from the shaded side of the park, finding a kid around your age plopped down by the tree, desperately drying his eyes with the back of his hand, small sobs coming out of his lips as three other kids, which you knew to be a little older than you and quite disrespectful at that, kept laughing at the boy, so really, what else were you supposed to do if not come in to save the day. “Come on Y/N they’ll make fun of us too” Sungho said as he tried to tug you away, only to have you stand your ground firmly

“If they make fun of me, I won’t cry” you crossed your arms stubbornly over your chest

“Y/N let’s just go”

“You go, Sungho” Sungho was always the type of kid that your mother kept reminding you to be more like, always righteous, never picking fights like you were known to do, but you really couldn’t stand watching the mysterious kid crying by himself while no one else did anything in the slightest. So you stood between him and the three kids that were still making fun of him, head high, fists up by your sides in a superhero pose “You shouldn’t make fun of others”

“Why don’t we make fun of both of you then, Y/N?”

“At least I can put my shirt shirt when I’m dressing myself, Areum” the girl looked down for half a second before staring you down, full of rage before huffing and turning around in true mean girl fashion.

You turn back to find a pair of bambi eyes staring at you, sobs silenced, although his chest still showed him trying to fully catch his breath. You extend your hand for him to take it so that he could stand up “I’m Y/N what’s your name?”

“I’m Jungkook” you were quick to grab his arm and pull him to where Sungho had watched the whole scene with Areum, now staring at the way you dragged the slightly shorter boy towards him

“Well Jungkook, this is Sungho and I just decided that all of us three are going to be best friends forever” the small boy smiled at that, bunny teeth showing in the process, eyes sparkly with wonder and pure appreciation, contrasting the look on Sungho’s face.

“Y/N I think you need to have girl friends to have these sleepovers with, Jungkook and I are boys” Sungho says as soon as you pass him the mirror and he is left staring at his reflection with a ton of glitter eyeshadow on his face, you turn to look at Jungkook, who is currently sprawled out playing with his nintendo, a set of pigtails adoring his head along with the hottest pink lipstick you could find

“I don’t mind it” he stuffed his mouth with chips as he continued to play on his console, not sparing any of you a look, although you smiled at him fondly, grateful to have him play along whenever Sungho didn’t feel like it, which seemed to be more and more as all of you grew older.

“Well I’m going to take this off” he said as he ran into the bathroom to wash his face. Good luck trying to get rid of glitter.

You huffed out a sigh at how boring it was getting if Sungho didn’t like to play your games, along with Jungkook being stuck inside his own little world. “This is so boriiiing”

“It was your idea Y/N”

“Yeah but you guys are no fun”

Jungkook pauses his game to turn to look at you “We can watch a movie if you’d like”

If someone were to tell 6 year old you that twelve years later, the kid that used to make fun of you would turn into your best friend, you would have probably laughed in their face, although as years went by, Areum had finally gotten better in terms of personality, up to the point where she had a full on talk with you before you decided to give it a try, even more so as she now took it as her job to protect you in high school, seeing as she was a year older than you.

“Jungkook has changed” the brunette said while taking a seat next to you inside the cozy smoothie shop, crumpling up her receipt inside her bag distractedly as you just stared at her, not knowing what had prompted her to talk about your best friend, Jungkook wasn’t exactly what one would consider popular, especially amongst the higher grades, especially not given the bickering grudge he held against Areum after all those years.

“What do you mean?”

“Just- seems like before summer he was this scrawny little thing, deer eyes, soft smiles” you looked at her intently, Jungkook had gone on vacation with his family for weeks as soon as finals were over, leaving with the promise of hanging out for the few days before school started again, similar to how you were now hanging out with Areum, her having arrived back a few hours before Jungkook “Now- well”

There were a million thoughts running inside your mind, some seemingly more plausible than others, tow hich yopu found yourself asking “Areum, did you fuck Jungkook?”

“I mean- we were both staying at the same hotel Y/N” Areum sipped on heir smoothie as a way to act coy about it, wide eyes turned the other way at the prospect of having said out loud that her latest conquest was none other than little Jungkook, the guy she had always made fun of for one or another reason

“Oh god you slept with Jungkookie” and you really tried to picture her, accepted into college, beautiful Areum, long lean legs, model faced Areum, flirt queen that always seemed to go for older guys Areum, paired up with sweet Jungkookie, sure, your best friend was cute, handsome even, there was no denying it, he was just not- Areum level handsome, Areum liked going out to party, let men shower her in drinks while Jungkook absolutely loved staying home battling Sungho in the newest video game that was around “I-I have no words”

“Y/N- Y/N don’t judge until you’ve tapped it” your friend seemed to space out for a second, as if looking back at her time with Jungkook, dreamily. “The guy got buff”

And sure he did, not only did Jungkook was now full of muscle, he also apparently had renewed his wardrobe, bought a motorcycle and apparently had even grown a few centimeters taller, or at least that much was said by Sungho as you three met up for lunch the day before classes started again, trying to catch up as you did every year when the three of you didn’t get a chance to hang out much.

“So are we getting that newly released game Kook?” Sungho mentioned in what appeared to be the background, your eyes completely fixated on whomever the man sitting in front of you was, definitely not your best friend Jungkook.

“Nah dude, I sold all my consoles and games to buy my bike” your eyes widened at the confession, probably mirroring the uttermost shocked look that Sunho was also sporting. Jeon Jungkook selling his videogames was definitely a sign of the apocalypse. You were about to make a comment before you heard a very familiar voice behind you, making you turn your head towards it.

“Jungkookie, you wanted me to come over?” her eyes had that sparkle in them which you have come to recognise as her being infatuated by someone, even if she didn’t really talked about it openly, you turned towards Jungkook in disbelief

“Yeah, Areum, lose my number”

You consciously close your mouth at the exchange as Areum backed away from the table muttering an ‘oh..okay’ as Jungkook smiled daily at her, your eyes lock in surprise with Sungho’s, both of you silently agreeing that this Jungkook was certainly a new side neither of you could yet guess whether or not you would continue to be able to befriend, although the history between the three of you spoke volumes.

And just like that, enough to get whiplash from it, Jungkook’s lazy uninterested eyes were replaced by the squinty smile you had learned to adore over the years, bunny teeth showing as his laugh resonated in the restaurant “Oh god you guys should have seen your faces!”

Your eyes travelled along the expanse of the space you three were in, looking at Sungho for a clue to pick up about what was happening, coming up empty handed as he spoke first “Dude I almost had a heart attack, I thought you had sold your games!”

“Oh no that I did” Jungkook took a sip out of his drink calmly

You tried not to show how nothing made sense in your mind “And that thing with...Areum?”

He placed his cup down, looking at you with wide eyes humming softly “Yeah that was a thing too, she’s been texting me non stop after we hooked up. I’m just glad I’m back with you guys”

So Jungkook had changed, that much was true, just not as much as he let people believe. Sure enough, the guy was now pure muscle, rode a bike everywhere, and made it his lifeplan to conquer as many girls as his schedule allowed him too; he also made a few other friends outside of your friends' circle, enough for rumours to go around about him being involved in shady business, or him hooking up with somebody’s mum. Either way, if you were to turn a blind eye to his social persona, Jungkook was still your and Sungho’s little Jungkookie, bambi wide eyes that teared up whenever it was movie night and you picked some chick flick, bunny teeth and loud giggles as he played a prank on Sungho, even though you could tell his heart just wasn’t in it as it was before.

“I’m gonna ask Y/N out” Sungho has asked Jungkook to meet him outside of campus on the first weeks of college as all three of you decided to attend together, uninterested on whatever it was that he was about to tell him, but trying to keep up his fractured friendship with the man (and you) he had shown up, even so a little fashionably late to make his point clear.

“And you’re telling me this because..”

“I don’t want to make it awkward, Jeon” Jungkook scoffs before rolling his eyes at Sungho “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you little boy crush on her for years”

“What I think you haven’t noticed is that I don’t do feelings” Jungkook retorts as he approaches him “And although I find Y/N to be quite fuckable if you ask me, I appreciate her enough not to put her in a weird place like you’re about to do, asshole”

Once weeks rolled around, things kept on being as the were after that fateful summer where Jungkook completely reinvented himself, even as semesters came and went, Jungkook grew a bit more separate from both Sungho and yourself, although it became a little harder to discern whether it was because of Jungkook or due to the fact that Sungho and you had started dating during the first semester of college. Sungho had no real answer to give you when asked about it, saying that outside of the scheduled movie night you three kept on sharing, he barely even texted Jungkook on his own.

“I heard your girl is getting married” his friend said as he handed him an opened beer, taking his place back against his bike in the middle of the night after some race they had gone to near the outskirts of Seoul.

Jungkook took a swing out of the bottle, squinting at the questionable choice in alcohol “I don’t have a girl Jihoon”

“Oh? Then what’s Y/N?'' he felt the blood draining from his face, heart heavy, breath hitching inside his throat as soon as your name left his lips. Of fucking course Sungho would try to marry you before you graduated. That bastard.

It was quite funny really, Jungkook knew from the very start, back when all three of you had 6 years old and you had saved him from a set of mean kids in the park, that Sungho was never fond of him, or rather, of the relationship you had developed with him, sure, the two men had bonded over a few shared interests as they grew up, but the only thing that kept them together was you. Sometimes Jungkook guesses it could have been him instead of Sungho, asking you out, sharing nights together, even being about to get married. But those thoughts were only wishful thinking, he had long ago decided that you deserved so much more than what he could give you, what with his eternal fear and inability to give himself up to others. So he had let you go, never thinking about the possibility of Sungho taking a place he wasn't worthy of either.

"Good for her"

It wasn't long after learning that you were engaged, that the invitation arrived to his apartment, just a few days after graduation. It wasn't really a surprise anymore, even back when he first heard the news, it wasn't that surprising, he guessed it was the years of knowing both you and Sungho, learning your patterns, that he had somehow seen it coming. It didn't make it any less hard to wish you weren't about to walk down the aisle to a man that wasn't him though. But he kept repeating to himself to stop being selfish, he had lost his chance, not that he ever had one to begin with, but as long as you were happy, he would be too.

And you really did seem happy, so he was willing to just ignore the way that his chest seemed to constrict every time your eyes locked on his from across the room as the rehearsal dinner, you were sporting a gorgeous emerald dress, the same colour as when you two first met eighteen years back, his mind spinning with impossible scenarios as each minute that passed really just turned out to be a minute closer to watch you walk down the aisle to another man, one that was supposed to be his best friend at that.

“Bride’s or groom’s” A sweet female voice called him as he sipped on his fifth? sixth? champagne flute, finding a woman staring at him with what he has come to recognise as lust.

“Eh.. you could say both”

A glimpse of recognition could be seen in her eyes before she spoke again “You must be Jungkook then, the overseeked bachelor”

“In the flesh” He smirked at her as she took a hold of his hand, guiding him upstairs to where you and your soon to be husband had booked bridesmaids and groomsmen alike for the night. Not that the blonde had anything to do with how utterly horrible he was feeling about the whole wedding situation but perhaps fucking his frustrations out would help just a little.

Jeon Jungkook was never the one to stick around until morning, that much was true, and although he might be known for a varying of unspeakable things, nothing could have prepared him for what he had to witness at ungodly hours.

He picked up the rest of his clothing after half dressing himself, not even sparing a second glance at the woman that was laying on her bed peacefully, careful not to make more sounds than the inherently necessary, his curiosity is peaked as he hears faintly moaning and skin slapping skin coming from the room next door, seeing the door barely open, and against his better judgement he peeks inside only to feel his heart pounding against his chest, blood rushing inside his ears as he can’t seem to look away from the image presented to him. Sungho, your soon to be husband, the one that he used to consider his best friend for years on end, the oh so righteous Sungho, ever morally correct Sungho, bending your other so-called best friend and maid of honour, Areum, over the comforter as he fucked into her. A few hours before he got married to you. After everything that he had put him through, making him believe that it was in your best interest top let you go, that he should have handed you over to him, that he was the best option out of the two of you to build a life with.

Jungkook sees red and doesn’t quite remember anything other than Areum running out of the room as he punches Sungho in the face, receiving some punches back.

“You absolutely disgust me”

The bastard has the guts to laugh at him “You know, Jeon” he goes to inspect his face in the mirror “If you burst Y/N’s bubble, you’ll forever be remembered as the stupid little boy that was jealous enough on her wedding day to ruin her life”

Jungkook clenches his fists by his side before deciding to turn his heels and leave the room, vision still blurry in anger, breathing ragged, a small trickle of blood making its way down from his eyebrow as he almost automatically walked himself to the other side of the hostel where he knew you must have been resting, taking a few too many second to decide to knock on the door.

“Jungkook? What are you- oh god” sleep seems to leave you as soon as your eyes lock on his beat up face, him smiling at you in a futile attempt to have you not worry that much about his well being, but of course you were already searching for a first aid kit as he took a seat on your bed “Jungkookie, what happened?”

And perhaps he didn’t think it through that much, but he couldn’t let you walk yourself into a marriage blinded by the persona Sungho had always made you believe he was. “Y/N” he took your hands in his, stopping you from rubbing any more antiseptic into his cut “You’ll hear,a nd probably have already heard, too much shit about me”

His eyes beg you to stare at him intently, and although the whole scenario had you giggling out of nervousness, it soon died down “Kook, what are you talking about?”

“Y/N- Sungho is not the man he’s made us think he is” your eyes scan his face for any more clues on what he’s saying a syou feel a beeping sound closing in on your ears, overwhelmed by the situation “And he’ll probably say this is me just being a jealous asshole after being in love with you for more than half of my living years but-”

You stare at him in horror as your hands remove themselves from his hold as if he was burning, standing up from where you were seated next to him, feeling your whole world being crushed down a few hours before what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life “No” you take a step back as you hold your chest, feeling hot tears welling up in your eyes “Jungkook please don’t do this shit to me”

“Y/N just- don’t marry Sungho” somehow he had willed his voice to remain calm

Your head shook fervently at him, as if somehow the action would make him retreat his words “Sungho loves me, Jungkook”

His eyes were ice cold at your words “He loves you enough to fuck Areum a few hours before making you his wife”

He really didn’t mean the bite on his words as he said them, this had nothing to do with you and everything to do with that asshole you called finacé, so he could completely understand when through your tears, chest heavy with rage and head spinning you asked “Please leave”

And he did.

Everything seemed like a fever dream. The words that Jungkook had said, the implication that it had. And really, if it weren’t for the fact that Jungkook was gone from the whole ordeal, you could have sworn your life that it was nothing other than a nightmare, Areum was as bubbly as ever, helping you get ready. Sungho’s good morning text still found its way into your inbox. Jungkook had not only accused you fiancé of cheating, but had said he had always been in love with you, no further proof to his words, so you decided to go as planned, yet you found yourself hyper aware of every move Sungho made, especially when they involved Areum.

You stood in your pristine white dress in front of a couple dozens of guests as traditional words were spoken, your mind a thousand miles away as you kept on looking towards the door, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they would open up, Jungkook would show up and stop you from making what could potentially be the worst mistake of your life.

"If anyone objects to the marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace." your eyes trail to the soor, yearning to hear Jungkook’s voice amidst the otherwise silent chapel, but it never came.

“Hey, Y/N come dance with us,” one of your bridesmaids say as the night progresses after dinner, some loud beat taking over the venue at the reception, making everyone stand up to dance, including your now-husband as you find yourself sulking sitting on your designated table.

“I’m fine, you go” you try to flash her the biggest smile you can as she goes, leaving you once again with your thoughts. Thoughts that mainly involved Jungkook, figuring that after all these years, life had managed to finally separate you, heart yearning to have him close to you, the more you became aware of your current life path, the more you realised what a humongous mistake you had made. You had always thought that marrying Sungho would give you a sense of utter happiness, of fulfillment, whether what Jungkook said was true or not, as you watched your husband having the time of his life without you. If he were Jungkook, he would be seated right by your side.

Jeon Jungkook, as deviated as he appeared to be to everyone, as much as he slept around, he had demonstrated to be the most loyal human being by your side up until the last second of your friendship, unlike Sungho, he had always been interested in what you wanted to do, had always let your voice be heard, had helped you through rough times when Sungho was nowhere to be seen, perhaps you had chosen the wrong best friend to fall in love with a few years ago, the wrong man in your life to marry. It had been Jungkook all along. It could have been Jungkook all along.

Your eyes fixate on the way that Sungho whispers something on Areum’s ear and you feel your blood boil, more out of self-pity and annoyance at letting such a man manipulate you rather than jealousy as you stand up to make your way to the bathroom, in hopes of freshening up before coming up with a plan to fix this mistake.

You sigh as you hold yourself up by the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror, pondering just how deep you’ll have to dig to come out of the mess when you hear an all too familiar deep chuckle behind you “So you realised”

You turn your back to the mirror to face Jungkook “That Sungho was an asshole or that I’m in love with you?”

His eyes turn into those deeply surprised deer shape you remember from when he was younger for a split second before they’re filled with something else between lust and deep appreciation as he backs you up further against the sink, a tattooed hand coming up to your chin “Does that mean I get to kiss you with no regrets now?”

“Would you kiss a married woman, Jungkook?” you ask playfully, matching the brattiness in his tone

“Only the ones whose husbands are assholes” and so his lips capture yours in a sweet quick kiss that has you wrapping your arms around his neck, leaning in once again, escalating from a very much due kiss filled with words that are unable to be said, into a fiery pit in the low of your stomach at the prospect of kissing Jungkook while still being in your wedding dress, just a few hours married and kissing another man.

Jungkook’s hands have abandoned their place on your figure in favour of trying to undo the little buttons on the back of your dress, breaking the kiss to complain “God just how many buttons does this dress have?”

Soon enough your dress lays forgotten on the floor, matching lingerie covering your body as Jungkook has most of your body up against the mirror, panties aside in favour of having him fingering you, arms almost failing to keep you upright as he mouths at your skin, moans escaping your lips regularly as he pumps and curls his fingers inside you, lewd noises taking reverbating on the small bathroom’s walls, a faint trail of bass coming in from the party “God you’re so perfect Y/N” he grunted as you heard his zipper coming down before feeling the tip of his cock teasing your entrance, his hand coming up to grip your hair making you face the mirror, makeup completely wrecked, the sight almost unrecognisable to you, a slight burning but pleasurable sensation on your scalp “I bet that bastard Sungho wouldn’t be able to wreck you like this” without further notice entering you from behind, your walls clenching against him as you felt him slowly but firmly making his way in and out of you at a building rapidly pace, a moan slipping past your lips and Jungkook shushing you in exchange as he increases his speed and you bit your lip to forbid any noises from coming out, afraid of being heard even when you knew it would be almost impossible to do so over the loud party noises, this bathroom being so far away from it.

Jungkook had placed your right leg up the sink, hitting an even deeper spot that had you building your orgasm at an incredible speed, throwing your head back in pleasure, feeling him completely inside you as heat pooled in your lower belly.

“K-Kook I’m gonna-ah! I’m gonna cum” a few flicks on your clit with his expert fingers as he helped you keep yourself upright did the trick as Jungkook made sure to somehow thrust even deeper, a loud moan scaping you as he spilled his warm seed inside you, quickly adjusting back his boxers and trousers as one of his fingers collected some cum that was dripping down your thigh to push it back in, letting go of you to hold yourself up against the sink, pulling your panties back in place.

“Think that counts as a wedding gift?” he turns to leave the bathroom, leaving you heaving to haphazardly step inside your dress as you trail behind him, finding him resting against a wall, his bike roaring a few meters away as he smiles your way knowingly as he puts on his helmet, throwing another one your way "So.. all ready to leave that asshole of a husband now or should I wait another 15 years?"

[princess-of-inarizaki]

Hello, can you do Karasuno, fukurodani and Nekoma with a reader. She really love bake and making sweet, she usually bring cupcake, brownies, Daifuku,.. for the team but she always make healthy food for the team (because she know that too much sweet is not very healthy). She has a small bakery shop, she usually invite the team come and she never take their money. She is very small and always smile cutely (cute like u), she don't talk much but her voice is very cute UwU

Hello Anon-chan!! This is such a sweet and adorable prompt, and I'd be honoured to do it. I might even make this part of a series because I love it so much.

Thank you so much for the compliment. I think you're so cute too 👉👈💖

Is it okay if I add Inarizaki to this too? :D

Sweetheart Bakery manager-chan

Characters: Karasuno, Fukurodani, Nekoma, and Inarizaki

Warnings: none :D

Karasuno

I think our darling sunshine Hinata would be the one to recruit you. He goes to your bakery shop one day with Kageyama, after practice, and orders two chocolate cake slices.

As you're cutting and plating it, he curiously asks you which school you're from, which you answer with “Karasuno”

His eyes literally sparkle up so bright and he smiles. “I'm from Karasuno too!!” and he begins chatting with you about school and volleyball.

“Hinata boke, what's taking you so long?” Kageyama walks up to the counter to see you talking to his friend, and he blushes, apologising.

You smile and tell them to enjoy their cake, waving goodbye.

From then on, the team often comes to your bakery after practice. Hinata started bringing the other first years besides Kageyama, like Yachi, Yamaguchi, and Tsukishima.

“I'm telling you guys!! She has the best cakes, they make me go uwahhh all the team” says Hinata excitedly, the first time he brought them over.

Tsukki loves your strawberry shortcakes, and sometimes even packs some for takeaway. You smile at him, liking him instantly, and even share your recipes with him.

The first years think of you as an angel, and they're close to you in class because you're always so kind and gentle.

One day, Yamaguchi suggests you become a manager so you'll be able to keep Yachi company when Shimizu-san graduates, and spend more time with them, your friends.

You immediately agree, since you're fond of Yachi, and high-five Yamaguchi, excited at the new suggestion of joining the team.

The next day, you bring a box of macaroons to the gym and softly and politely introduce yourself to the other members.

The first years (with the exception of Tsukki) immediately run up to you and give you a huge hug.

Daichi smiles and thanks you for your kindness to his teammates, and immediately accepts you as the third manager of Karasuno.

The whole team enjoys your macaroons after practice, and Tanaka and Nishinoya are incredibly impressed, taking pictures of the pastry to send their "city boy" friends in Nekoma.

As a manager, you are always soft-spoken and the team adore you very much, similar to Yachi.

You're also always bringing them to your small bakery after practices so that they can have a slice of cake, or a daifuku after a hard training session.

You never accept their money, and with a small smile on your face, tell them to dig in, and enjoy the dessert.

The team adores you very much, and would never let anyone harm you. You can definitely rest easy knowing the third years are always there if you ever need anything, the first years to protect you, and the second years if you're ever feeling lonely.

Fukurodani

I feel like Akaashi would have the hugest crush on you. He stumbles upon your adorable and quaint little bakery by accident, and after a stressful day of practice, and he's so thankful to see this darling little angel bringing him a slice of cake.

You seem to notice him, a customer and classmate of yours looking so unhappy, so you join him at his table with a small mug of hot tea. “Are you okay, Akaashi-san?” you ask softly. He shakes his head, but he's so touched by your gesture.

He starts coming by the bakery more often, because you calm him down and radiate such gentle and positive vibes. He's also began to get closer to you in school.

One day, you stop by the gym where he's practicing with the rest of the Fukurodani team to pass him a small box of cookies. You're stunned to see an owlish looking boy, inspecting you curiously.

He suddenly breaks into a huge smile and shakes your hand. “Hi!! I'm Bokuto! Why are you here?”

You softly explain that you want to pass something to Akaashi, and when he sees you, his face turns red and he walks to you and Bokuto. Akaashi bows deeply and blushes as you pass him the box.

Suddenly, Konoha spots you and smirks. “Oh Akaashi, you've been hiding her away for pretty long, haven't you?”

You nervously explain that you were merely Akaashi's friend, and that you owned a bakery near school, where he met you.

The team's all gathered around you at this point, and they collectively gasp after hearing you say that. They're determined to make you their manager now, after all, you can bake and you're obviously so small and sweet.

“But Konoha-san, we already have two managers.” says Akaashi, in desperate attempt to dissuade his friends, but their minds seemed to be made up.

“Y/n-chan, if it's okay, would you agree to be our manager?” asked a hopeful Bokuto, and his earnest expression was something you just couldn't refuse. You nodded shyly.

Since then, the team are so excited to have a new manager. Whilst Yukie and Kaori handle the strategical aspect of the game, you tend to the boys' needs by managing their nutrition and morale.

You're always there to put a smile on their faces through your soft and gentle gestures, and you're one of the few people who can cheer up an emo-mood Bokuto, which makes Akaashi love you all the more.

You also bake the boys cupcakes and cakes all the time, but are careful to use different alternatives to sugar and other ingredients which shouldn't be eaten in access.

You are, after all, very health conscious, and you try your best to make sure the team always feel good and healthy.

Bokuto loves carrying you around, since you're so small, and Konoho and Komi often visit your bakery too, and help you out sometimes, since managerial duties have filled your schedule.

In general, the team think so highly of their small, sweet manager, and they come up with nicknames for her related to the things she bakes, like "cupcake" or "shortcake"

It's very cute, and when you blush, they laugh and ruffle your hair, loving her more.

Very wholesome and adorable, and (similar to most Fukurodani manager fics), you're part of their family now. They'd do anything for you.

Nekoma

I think you somehow accidentally became their manager. You walk into the gym to pass some papers to the coach and he mistakes you for the person who's going to become the new manager.

“Ah, I've been expecting you!” you smile and hand him the papers and he looks confused, “you're here for the position, right?” not knowing what coach nekomata meant, you nodded and he looked satisfied. “Kuroo will show you the ropes” was all he said before ticking something off in his clipboard.

You walk over to Kuroo, and the confusion further intensifies, as you realize there's been a grave mistake, but you're too shy, and Kuroo seems to be too excited at the prospect of having a new manager. He keeps ruffling your hair and saying “You're going to have so much fun with us, y/n-chan!”

I guess I'm the Nekoma volleyball club manager now. You think quietly, trying to map out a new schedule to fit club duties and your bakery duties.

You get better acquainted with the team, and they're all so excited to have you, with the exception of a blonde boy who looked tired and frankly looked like he couldn't wait for practice to be over.

You bowed and exit the gym, running over to your beloved bakery as you frantically checked your watch. The team was puzzled at your hurried actions, and curious.

“Maybe we should—”, “no.” interrupted an uninterested Kenma. “We shall not snoop into our new manager's personal life.”

Kuroo pouted, but knew his friend was right, and walked home with him quietly.

The next day, Kai came early for practice, and since you were already there too, offered to help you understand some of your duties, when an excited Yaku ran into the gym.

He wasn't present yesterday when you officially became the manager, but he was here today, and he stopped in his tracks when he saw you. “You're from the bakery, aren't you?” asked Yaku with a look of awe.

The team was extremely impressed at having such a capable manager, who knew how to bake, manage her own store, and undertake managerial duties.

Kuroo was all the more excited, and he follows you to the bakery whenever he can, sampling the cakes and cookies, and helping you bake, all whilst singing the dorky periodic table song.

You warm up to your new team slowly but surely, and as they start becoming such a huge part of your life, you can't help but appreciate them for their individual characters and quirks.

They too, fall deeper in love with you, and go out of their way to show you they care and make you happy. Each member of the team comes by your bakery at least once a week on different days, to keep you company during the evening shift.

I also think that Kenma would try to remain cold and unbothered with you, but deep down he loves it when you stroke his hair and bake him cookies.

Lev is your baby, and he follows you around partly because you smell so nice, and partly because he's addicted to the calming vibe you have to you.

Kuroo would be so addicted to holding you close to him and sniffing you, because you smell amazing. Like lemon, and sugar, and baked goodies from your bakery, he's practically addicted.

You bake them cookies for their team games and training camps, and they love bragging to other teams about how their manager is the best, and how her cookies taste better than ones from any store.

Manager-chan just blushes quietly, grateful for that one tiny slipup, and accident which led her to become the manager of this group of crackhead angels.

Inarizaki

I might just make this a series in the upcoming future because I love this prompt so much hhhh.

You're assigned to be Suna's lab partner in class, and he's pretty glad, because you aren't one of his fangirls, and you're always so quiet and smart in class.

You grow to be close friends with Suna, because he's quiet, just like you are, and you're comfortable being yourself around him.

He realises you own a bakery one day, and ask you if he could visit, and you're more than happy to agree. You bring him to your beloved bakery after school one day, and let him sample all your cakes on display.

He's quiet about his reactions, but his eyes are expressive and he widens them after each taste, showing you how much he likes it.

He starts spending less time with the team, in favour of helping you with the bakery. The twins are obviously not happy.

“Suna, what're ya hiding from us?” groans Atsumu, with a pout. “yeah, as dumb as he is, he's right. Yer barely spending time with us afta' school anymore” says Osamu, visibly upset.

Suna just reassures them that it's nothing, and the twins, definitely not believing him, follow him after practice one day.

They see him walk into your bakery, wrap his arms around a girl, enveloping her in a hug, and then waiting by the counter. So he had a job, then?

The duo causally walked in the bakery, and Suna rolled his eyes. “I'm just helping my friend.” he said, as he gestured towards you.

The twins finally get a chance to look at you properly, and they think you're so adorable! You have a shy smile, and beautiful eyes, they can't stop staring, feeling warm and happy themselves.

“Would you like some brownies?” you ask them in a soft and mellifluous voice. “I baked them today.” and without waiting for a response, you cut them two thick slices and expected them to try. Atsumu and Osamu were still speechless, and quietly munched on the treat, their eyes not leaving your face.

“Yer adorable.” was all Atsumu managed to say, before blushing a deep shade of red. Osamu elbowed him, and bowed, thanking you for the treat.

You assured them it was alright, and refused to accept their payment. The Miya twins were now genuinely convinced they were in love. You can expect them to be so fond of you, and try to convince you a thousand times a day to be their manager.

You disagree at first, worried that it might clash with your duties at the bakery, but the twins assure you they'll help you here, and so will Suna, which finally makes you agree.

To be honest, they all just really want to spend as much time with you as they can.

You meet Kita, the day you hand in your application, and he inspects you, finally deciding that you were perfect for the job. He welcomes you to the team, and as expected, the other members fall in love with you and your shy and generous personality right away.

Suna's always there for quiet times with you, and sometimes the team finds the two of you asleep on the bleachers together, his head on your lap, before practice starts.

Osamu loves sharing recipes with you, and making you things to eat in his bento box. “Y/n-chan, I uh, I happened to have two onigiris in my bento, would you like one?” with the sweetest smile on his face.

Atsumu loves carrying you around, since you're so small, and telling you cheesy pickup lines. Although he dismisses them as jokes, he's secretly hoping you'll realise he means them all. Very protective of you too! His fangirls don't dare hurt you, in fear of him.

Kita appreciates how wonderful you are, and finds himself thinking about the way you tuck your hair behind your ears, or look so focused when you're baking something, determined to do a perfect job. It's only when he's up till three does he realise he might be in love.

Aran is always there to help you carry anything, or lessen your burden with managerial duties. Although you've assured him countless of times that it's fine, he insists on helping you with anything he possibly can!

And finally, Akagi brings out the giggly side of you, which definitely flusters all the boys. Seeing their adorable manager giggling when Akagi is telling her a funny story? Priceless.

You always bring them baked goodies during practice and allow them to visit you in the bakery anytime they want. If they're not at the gym, they're definitely at the bakery. It doesn't matter to them, as long as they're near you.

Are worried to have you follow them on training camps, but you assure them it'll be fine, and always remain their comforting and sweet manager to congratulate them after good games, and comfort them after bad ones.

Each and every one of them love you with all their heart, and dedicate all their wins to you in hopes of making you proud.

Taglist!! ~ @k-sakusa-old @osamusriceballs

[fanmoose12]

friday, i’m in love

“Before becoming an official member of our gang, though, you need to do those four things."

"Alright," Hange nods, listening intently.

"First!" Isabel raises her index finger. "You need to punch Zeke in a face, but I'm sure it's bound to happen."

Hange giggles, getting excited. "What's next?"

"Second, you need to skip a class, and you've already done it, so!" Isabel clasps her shoulder. "Congratulations on that one."

Farlan pats her knee too, and Hange shows them a proud smile.

"Third, you need to smoke at least one cigarette."

"I can't," her smile falls, as Hange briefly shakes her head. "I have asthma."

"I'll do it for you then," Farlan offers, walking to the other side of the rooftop to do just that.

"And the last thing! The most important one!" Isabel makes a dramatic pause, shifting her gaze to Levi just for a second, before looking back on Hange with a mischievous smile. She winks and lowers her voice, making sure that Levi doesn’t hear her.

"The last condition - you have to kiss one of us."

For the most kids her age, moving to a different town and changing schools is a fate worth than death. And, while Hange is a little saddened to say goodbye to the friends she made at her old school and more than a little saddened to leave her dad behind, she is also excited at the prospect of starting a new life.

Changing schools means she can meet new people, and meeting new people means she can make new friends.

And Hange, unlike most of her peers, isn't afraid of change. She welcomes it actually, preferring new experiences over dull and repetitive routine.

They move to a new town and to a small two-story house in the quiet suburbs. It’s a little different from the house they used to live before, a little quieter too, but it’s lovely. Hange likes it instantly. She’s ready to call it a new home.

The first couple of weeks are awfully busy. Hange and her mother unpack their things and buy new furniture. They meet their neighbors and her mother starts making new friends.

Hange can’t wait to meet her new friends at school too.

And so very soon, the long-awaited day comes.

***

When it finally does, Hange is brimming with excitement.

She puts on her glasses and dresses in her favorite clothes that was washed and ironed by her mother the evening before, ties her hair in a ponytail, grabs a lunch box that was waiting for her on a kitchen counter, kisses her mother's cheek, yells "love you!" right into her ear, making her wince and push laughing Hange away, hurries to hop on her bike and makes her way to the school.

She makes a new friend in a face of one Moblit Berner approximately three minutes and forty six seconds later after crossing a threshold and passing below a banner that read Sina High School.

Moblit is a nice and friendly boy, even if a bit quiet and timid, compared to her. Although, Hange also has to admit that compared to her, almost everyone seems to be quiet and timid.

Moblit is incredibly kind and he offers to show Hange around the school. He agrees to walk her to every class and even draws a small, but very detailed map for her.

During lunch, Moblit remains by her side. As they slowly eat their food, Hange points at random students who pique her interest and Moblit shares with her his opinion of them.

"That's Erwin and Mike," Moblit says, when Hange asks him about two blondes that sit in the very middle of the cafeteria. "Erwin is president of a debate club, also his father works at our school, he's a history teacher. Mike is a captain of a football team. They're nice guys, and Erwin is always ready to help, if you struggle with a class. Although, he's not that good at math..."

Hange nods, absorbing the information and committing it to memory. Her gaze lingers at Erwin and Mike for a few more seconds, before it moves on to a next target, this time two petite redheads.

"Ah, Nifa and Petra," Moblit fondly smiles. "They're both cheerleaders. Petra is also a member of a drama club, and Nifa helps me manage a biology club."

"Biology club?" Hange lights up, carelessly tossing her sandwich onto the table. She can’t believe her luck. She loves science and was the president of a chemistry club back in her old school. She didn’t dare to hope that the new school would give her an opportunity to continue pursuing her passions. "Can I join?"

"You really want to?" Moblit asks, biting his lip. Doubt is written all over his face. "We don't have a lot of members..."

"Of course, I want to!" Hange exclaims much louder than she intended to. As a result, she attracts attention of some students who turn to look at her. Some seem curious, others - annoyed. Hange pays no mind to either. She grabs Moblit by the shoulders and stares deep into his eyes. "I'm so excited already! When is your next meeting?"

"This Friday..."

"Awesome! Expect me to be here!" she clasps Moblit's back, almost making him choke, and then sweeps her gaze across the cafeteria, looking for someone interesting.

"There!" she points at the girl with long, dark hair that sits in the far corner of the room with a blonde boy by her side. "Who is that?"

"That's Pieck," Moblit answers. "She's involved in a drama club too, although she mostly just helps with painting the backgrounds for the scenes. And that's... all I know about her. She's nice, and I think she's dating Porco, or, maybe, Porco is dating Reiner, or, maybe, Reiner is dating Berthold... sorry," he rubs his neck in embarrassment. "I don't really pay attention to that kind of stuff, and their relationship is pretty complicated."

"Don't worry," Hange pats his arm. "I get confused with that kind of stuff all the time. Now! Who is that?"

Her finger points at a bespectacled guy with blonde hair.

Moblit's face twists in disgust. "That's Zeke Yeager. He's the biggest jerk and bully of our school. Try to stay away from him, and—" he nods at the redheaded boy sitting next to him. "And his pal Floch. He's even worth than Zeke."

Hange wants to ask more about them, but then she notices a boy, who sits in the furthest corner of the cafeteria.

Hange is sure that wearing leather jackets is prohibited in this school, but this boy doesn't seem to care. He is dressed in a white t-shirt and a big, black leather jacket. His hair is black too and the longer strands of it obscure his eyes. But even that can’t hide the fact that the boy is wearing a displeased, irritated expression. Hange wonders about the reason for the sour face.

"Hey!" she points her finger at him. "Who is that shorty?"

"Shh!" Moblit hurriedly lowers her hand, his eyes widening in panic. "Don't point your finger at him! And, for the love of god, don't call him shorty, Hange! Better yet, try not to talk or even look at him."

"Eh?" Hange frowns. "What do you mean? What's wrong with that guy?"

"That's Levi Ackerman," Moblit says, lowering voice to a hushed whisper. “Those two are his best friends – Isabel and Farlan,” he shows Hange a small redheaded girl and a tall guy with white hair that sit next to Levi. “And you should never mess with them."

"So they’re worse than Zeke and his friend?"

"Much worse," Moblit confirms, his eyes grim and serious. "Everyone says they’re a part of some gang. They say that Isabel is a thief, and Farlan is an arsonist. And Levi Ackerman…” Moblit purses his lips, a shadow of fear flushing across his face. “Once he broke Mike's jaw for calling him a midget, and some say that he had killed a man with his bare hands just for pouring out coffee on him. Whatever happens, try to stay away from the three of them, Hange."

"If you say so..." Hange murmurs. She takes a bite of her sandwich, continuing to stare at the dark-haired boy. Suddenly he looks up, and Hange almost chokes.

His eyes bore into hers with a surprising intensity. They are cold and grey, like the edge of a knife.

Hange lifts her lips in what she hopes is a friendly smile.

Levi Ackerman scoffs and looks away.

Hange continues watching him, waiting for their eyes to meet again. They don’t.

But as Hange leaves the cafeteria, trailing after Moblit like a little lost duckling, she can't get the look he had given her out of her mind.

Levi Ackerman... What an enigma.

  ***

It is Friday afternoon, and the sun is gently passing through the already yellowing leafs. The warm light paints the world in golden colors, making it seem more warm and welcoming.

Hange, however, has no time to enjoy the beauty around her. It is Friday afternoon, and she is running late.

She was so excited for the first biology club meeting, that’s the only thing she could think about for the whole week. She gathered all the science projects she had done at the old school and she prepared a small presentation for other club members and she even thought of a few suggestions to expand the club, which, as she understood from Moblit’s words, was quite small.

All this work, all these preparations and now she is running late, because she stayed after class to talk with Mr. Smith and forgot about the time.

And, to make matters worse, she is lost. The part of school she finds herself in is completely unfamiliar to her, and she can’t quite understand how she got here in the first place.

Cursing herself, Hange takes out a map Moblit made for her, tracing the drawing with her index finger and muttering Moblit’s instructions under her breath.

“Go to the second floor, take the first turn to the left and then walk to the end of the hallway…”

A second later it dawns at her – she is in the wrong wing and on the wrong floor.

Muttering another curse, Hange turns around and rushes to the stairs. Holding the research notes she wrote the night before to her chest with one hand, she keeps Moblit’s map in front of her eyes, checking it after each turn she takes.

She is just about to enter a hallway that leads to the biology classroom, when she collides with something. Stumbling, she falls down, her papers flying around.

She blinks a few times, trying to get a sense of her surroundings. Moblit didn’t draw anything that would prepare her for the obstacle that caused her fall.

She slowly looks up. In front of her, seemingly larger than life is a pair of steely grey eyes.

Levi Ackerman, Hange realizes immediately. He is on the floor too, right next to her. And he doesn’t seem too pleased about it.

She gulps. For the first time in her life, Hange doesn’t know what to say.

“The hell you’re wearing those glasses for?” the boy growls, getting up. “Watch where you’re going, four-eyes.”

“Ah, sorry!” Hange exclaims. His rude, throaty voice does a great job of pushing her out of stupor. “I’m just new at this school, and so I got little lost, but, thankfully, my friend Moblit drew me a map, and that’s why I didn’t look where I was—”

“Jesus,” Levi groans. “Shut the fuck up. Give me that shit.”

Before Hange can protest, he snatches the map out of her hands. His eyebrows form a line as he studies the small drawing.

And suddenly Hange remembers what Moblit had said about Levi Ackerman and his warnings to stay away from him.

Once he broke Mike's jaw.

These words ring loudly inside her mind. She had seen Mike in the hallways, he is quite a large guy. And Hange, despite being quite tall for her age, isn’t nearly as big as him. If Levi is able to break Mike’s jaw, what can he do to her?

Hange never had her jaw broken before, so by all accounts it should be a new experience for her. She likes new experiences. But she also likes her jaw and the prospect of having it broken… isn’t all that exciting.

Still sitting on a floor, Hange watches the boy warily.

“You’re looking for a biology class, right?” he asks after he finished studying the map.

“Yes,” Hange nods cautiously.

Suddenly she remembers a girl she used to play with at the playground near her old house. The girl had broken an arm once, after falling off a swing. She screamed and cried and then her mother took her to the doctor, and when she came back, she couldn’t play with little Hange anymore, because her arm was in a sling and she couldn’t move it for almost a whole month.

And that was just an arm. Hange can only imagine how much a broken jaw would hurt. She really isn’t that keen on finding out.

“Of course, you’re a nerd, how I didn’t guess it before,” Levi mutters, as he starts to walk away.

Hange stares at his back, wondering if the storm had passed.

Evidently, it hadn’t – Levi turns around. He arches his eyebrow, looking at Hange quizzically.

“Did you hit your head or something, four-eyes? Get up, I’ll lead you to the class. You’re in the wrong wing, idiot.”

Hange is still confused – wasn’t he going to beat her up? But then she remembers the reason for this whole mess.

“The meeting!” she cries out, hurriedly gathering the papers that are scattered across the floor.

As she kneels on the wooden floor, picking up the papers, Levi’s words finally register in her mind.

“Wait!” she looks up at him. “You said I’m in a wrong wing again?”

“Well, aren’t you slow,” he deadpans. “Here,” he hands her the last one of her papers. For a second, their fingers brush against each other, and Hange finds out that in contrast to his eyes, Levi’s hands are warm. But before she can decide if his skin is soft or not, Levi pulls away, turning around. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

“You’re… going to lead me to the class?” Hange clarifies, cautiousness returning to her face.

“That’s what I said, right?” Levi starts to walk, not looking back at her. “Or is your hearing as shitty as your eyesight?”

“Not really,” Hange chuckles, following after him.

Levi Ackerman isn’t going to beat her up. She is almost certain.

  ***

“Hange, you’re here!” as soon as she enters the classroom, Moblit is beside her. “I thought you forgot about our meeting!”

“How could I?” Hange grins, easing his worry. “I was preparing the whole week for this! I just got a bit lost on my way here, sorry for being late.”

“You got lost? How did you find us then?” the petite redhead walks up to her too. 

Not the redhead – Nifa, cheerleader and Moblit’s friend, Hange remembers.  

“You used my map, right?” Moblit asks.

“Eh, no,” Hange rubs her neck, feeling a little shy. “Levi helped me get here.”

“Levi?” Nifa’s eyes widen in surprise. “As in the Levi Ackerman? The scariest guy of our school?”

“I guess?” Hange answers. “He was right there—” she opens the door to show Levi to Nifa and Moblit, he couldn’t have left far away, he had walked her to the door, after all, but unfortunately – the hallway is empty. She turns back to Moblit and Nifa with a helpless chuckle. “And he already left…”

“Are you sure that was Levi?” Moblit narrows his eyes a fraction, looking doubtful.

“I…” before she can reply, Hange remembers that she didn’t actually ask for his name. But those grey eyes… they can’t belong to anyone else. At the same time, Hange senses that no matter what she is going to say, neither Moblit nor Nifa would believe her.

And it doesn’t matter, not really. After all, they have a more pressing matter on their hands right now.

The vast and enigmatic world of molecular biology.

She clasps her hands together, attracting attention of the two boys, who stand at the other side of the classroom. They look up and Hange smiles, making a mental note to introduce herself to them later.

She unzips her bag, taking out her laptop and gathering her notes. “I’ve prepared a small report!” she announces, opening the first slide of her forty minutes long presentation.

   ***

It is a nice day. Despite the calendar showing that it is already October, the weather is warm enough to mistake it for the end of May.

The sky is clear and blue, the apple Hange is eating is juicy and sweet and her conversation with Moblit is engaging and fun.

With a bright smile on her lips, Hange lifts her face up to the sky, squinting against the blinding light. The sunbeams dance across her skin, kissing her cheeks and nose with their gentle warmth.

It is a nice day. But then a shadow obscures her view of the sun.

Hange opens her eyes, frowning at the sudden intrusion.

Next to her, Moblit falls silent. In front of her, Floch and two of his friends smirk, looking down on them.

"Get lost, Zoe," Floch tells flippantly, sparring her no more than a single glance. "Your boyfriend and I need to have a little chat."

Hange feels her chest fill with rage.

"Like hell I would!" she raises to her feet, fists clenching in anger.

In a month she spent at Sina High, she learnt a lot about Floch. She learnt that he is stupid and simpleminded, cruel and cowardly. Most of all, he is a bully.

Hange hates bullies with all the fierceness of her heart.

She had her fair share of taunting and mockery before. The kids made fun of her for wearing glasses, for having a large nose, for being too loud or too weird. Hange knows that the only one way to deal with endless jabs and sneers is to fight back. And over the course of her sixteen years of life she got amazingly good at it.

"Hange—" Moblit whispers, grasping her sleeve desperately. "Hange, please, do as he says."

"No!" Hange declares, glaring fiercely at Floch. "I'll stay with you, Moblit."

"Your mistake," Floch huffs, the smirk on his face growing wider. Behind his back, his friends flex their fists. "One nerd or two, what does it matter? I'll easily deal with both of you."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Hange warns, narrowing her eyes at him.

Getting into a fight isn't anything new for her. Unfortunately, having her ass kicked isn't anything new for her either. Even so, she isn't going to back down.

Hange braces herself, raising her fists and putting her left leg behind her for support. Watching Floch closely, she wonders where he would hit first. Her left or right cheek? Her nose or jaw? Or maybe, he'd go to the legs first? Hange doubts it, Floch doesn't seem to be that smart.

He raises his fist and Hange closes her eyes, preparing herself for the sharp sting of pain.

It never comes. Instead, a shadow appears in front of her again, this one much darker.

A second passes, and nothing happens. And then she hears Floch's feeble whimper.

Hange gingerly opens her eyes.

Holding Floch's fist in his hand, Levi Ackerman is standing before her, his wide back, as always, clad in black leather jacket.

"What's the matter, Floch?" he speaks in a low voice. "Got tired of picking fights with middle schoolers?"

Floch doesn't answer, his eyes turning wide, and Levi twists his arm, throwing him on the ground.

"Get the fuck out of here," he spits out, turning away as though just the sight of Floch disgusts him.

Not needing him to tell twice, Floch shoots to his feet and runs, his friends following after him.

Hange watches them with deep sense of satisfaction. She would prefer to make Floch leave with the use of her own fists, but that— that is nice too. And totally painless.

"We should go as well, Hange," Moblit mumbles, tugging insistently at her shirt.

"You go first," Hange answers, not taking her eyes off Levi. "I need to go to the bathroom."

"Hange..." Moblit's quiet voice is disapproving, and Hange turns to look at him, curving her lips in a smile. "I'll be right behind you, don't worry."

"Just be careful," he instructs at last, before grabbing his bag and walking away.

With Floch and Moblit gone, Hange is left alone with Levi.

Or... not.

As Hange looks around, she realizes that Levi had left too. By now, his dark figure is nothing more than a small dot on a horizon. Hange hurries after him.

"Hey, hey, Levi! Wait!" she desperately tries to catch up with him. Levi doesn't slow down.

"Go away, four-eyes," he mutters without even looking at her.

Like hell she would.

Hange speeds up and in a matter of seconds, she reaches Levi. Huffing and painting, she struggles to keep up with his confident stride. But she doesn’t give up.

"Hey— hey, I just—" she inhales, then swiftly exhales. "I just wanted to ask," another deep breath, this one's much shakier. "Why did you help me?"

Levi stops long enough to turn around and throw her a dark look. "I didn't."

"You did!" Hange persists. "For the second time!"

"Leave me alone," he scoffs and starts to walk again.

Naturally, Hange follows after him. Levi passes the main entrance to school and heads to the side door.

He's going to skip a class, Hange realizes.

She has never skipped a class before. How exciting!

"It makes me think," she continues talking as though she didn't hear his last words. "Maybe, you're a bit misunderstood. I don't think you're as scary as everyone thinks you are."

"I'm much scarier," Levi mutters, moving up the stairs.

He is going up on a rooftop, Hange guesses. Again, she has never been on a rooftop before. Double excitement!

"And if you don't wish me to show you how scary I can be, I advise you to leave me alone."

"Nope," Hange smiles, not moved by his threat. She almost has him figured out. Levi Ackerman, the presumable gangster and the most fearsome student of Sina High isn't quite as terrible as he appears to be. "You won't hurt me."

"And why the fuck not?" Levi grunts, pushing the door to the rooftop open. He tries to shove it in her face, but Hange is faster, and she passes the threshold before he can push the door closed.

"Because you're nice," Hange easily answers.

"I'm really not."

Pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket, Levi walks up to edge of rooftop and plops down on the floor. Hange sits next to him. She turns her head around and watches the grand blue sky above her. At the sight of it all, breath catches in her throat.

Paying her no mind, Levi takes out a pack of cigarettes and puts a stick into his mouth.

He lifts a lighter, when Hange speaks.

"Can you smoke later?" she asks carefully. "You see, I have asthma..."

Levi curses under his breath. He sighs and puts the cigarette down. Hange beams.

"I was right after all," she bumps her shoulder against his. "You are a nice."

"I'm going to push you off the edge," he promises darkly. Hange's smile doesn't falter.

"Don't you have to be in class?" Levi questions. "Why are you bothering me?"

"You're nice," Hange repeats. "I want to be your friend."

"I don't."

Hange snickers. As if she would give him a choice.

They don't speak after that. Hange, still smiling, returns to gazing up at the sky, lazily watching the movements of clouds.

Levi seems to be slowly coming with the grips that to get rid of her he most probably would have to act on his threat and push her off the edge. With a sour expression, he braces his hands against the railing and stares at the ground below.

The silence, surprisingly, is pleasant and comfortable. It is broken by the sound of the door opening. Hange turns around, and sees Levi's friends - Farlan and Isabel - climb on a rooftop.

As they notice her, their faces brighten up.

"Levi!" Isabel runs up to him. "So you finally gathered enough courage? I'm so proud of you!"

"Izzy," Farlan takes her by the elbow, just before she can latch herself onto Levi. "I don't think he has."

"Eh?" Hange shifts her gaze from Farlan and Isabel to Levi. Something is going on, but she can't pinpoint what exactly.

"Shut up," Levi barks at his friends. "Four-eyes just decided to follow me up here, and now I can’t get rid of her."

"I just wanted to thank you," Hange grumbles, crossing hands on her chest and pursuing her lips in a pout. "For saving me from Floch and his friends."

"Oh!" Isabel's eyes lighten up. She jumps to Hange's side. "Big brother saved you?" she asks with a dreamy smile. "Levi, that's so—"

"Shut up, Isabel," he growls. "I'm not joking."

"Killjoy," Isabel whispers, throwing him a dark look.

Farlan takes a sit next to Hange, offering her his hand. "I'm Farlan," he says with a friendly smile. "And that’s," he gestures to the girl. "As you may have gathered, is our friend Isabel. Nice to finally meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Hange answers, shaking his hand. "I'm—"

"Hange," Farlan interrupts. "Yes," he briefly glances at Levi, his eyes alight with amusement. "We know."

"We should be friends!" Isabel announces, throwing her arm around her shoulders.

"I would like to," Hange replies. "But Levi doesn't seem to agree."

"Pay him no mind," Isabel waves her hand. "He’s just naturally that grumpy. As for Farlan and me, we’re ready to accept you in our ranks. Before becoming an official member of our gang, though, you need to do those four things."

"Alright," Hange nods, listening intently.

"First!" Isabel raises her index finger. "You need to punch Zeke in a face, but I'm sure it's bound to happen."

Hange giggles, getting excited. "What's next?"

"Second, you need to skip a class, and you've already done it, so!" Isabel clasps her shoulder. "Congratulations on that one."

Farlan pats her knee too, and Hange shows them a proud smile.

"Third, you need to smoke at least one cigarette."

"I can't," her smile falls, as Hange briefly shakes her head. "I have asthma."

"I'll do it for you then," Farlan offers, walking to the other side of the rooftop to do just that. Levi, who still holds a pack in his palm, doesn't join him, not moving from his place next to Hange.

"And the last thing! The most important one!" Isabel makes a dramatic pause, shifting her gaze to Levi just for a second, before looking back on Hange with a mischievous smile. She winks and lowers her voice, making sure that Levi doesn’t hear her.

"The last condition - you have to kiss one of us."

   ***

After that first time on the roof, their friendship progresses rapidly. Hange starts hanging out in the mall with Isabel, playing basketball with Farlan, skipping classes and walking home with Levi.

And very soon she finds out the truth about her new friends. Isabel isn't actually a thief, Farlan isn't an arsonist and Levi, obviously, has never murdered anyone.

Those rumors are just that - rumors.

"But what about Mike?" Hange asks.

The four of them are sitting side by side on what Hange likes to call their place - up on a rooftop of the school. Their shoulders are pressed tightly against each other, and their feet are dangling off the edge. The light from a setting sun reflects in her glasses, making her squint. On a scale of perfect days, this one is pretty close to the top.

In response to her question, Levi groans. Isabel and Farlan start laughing.

"I'm afraid that's another rumor," Farlan explains to the confused Hange.

"Although, Mike did break a jaw once," Isabel notes with a crooked grin.

"But not by me." Levi grits through his teeth. "That giant idiot got drunk and fell down the stairs. And because he was too embarrassed to tell the truth, he blamed it on me."

"So, you just let him do it?" Hange stares at Levi with raised eyebrows. "Didn't do anything even though he lied about you?” Levi nods and Hange smiles. “I stand corrected then, you're nice."

"I'm serious, four-eyes," Levi growls, sending her one of his meanest looks. "One day, I'll push you off this roof."

Hange throws her head back and laughs. Isabel and Farlan join her.

 ***

"Well, let's start our meeting, shall we?" Hange rubs her hands in anticipation, excited to tell her fellow club members about a study she recently found.

But before she can turn on her laptop and put on a new presentation, Nifa grips her elbow.

"It's all very thrilling," she smiles.

"It really is," Moblit nods eagerly.

"But we wanted to know something else."

Hange blinks a few times, and then feels color rise to her cheek. She suddenly realizes that in the past two months she was always the one to lead the meetings. It is quite understandable that Nifa wants her turn.

"Of course, if there's something you wish to share, we all gladly listen, Nifa."

"Oh no, I don't wish to share anything. On the contrary, there is so something I want to ask you."

The bright, enthusiastic look in her eyes is intriguing. Hange wonders what is it that Nifa wants to know - is it about a thesis she made last week? Or a week before that?

"I'm all ears," Hange promises, taking Nifa's hands into hers.

"So how does it feel," Nifa begins. "To date the most dangerous boy of our school?"

It takes Hange an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize who Nifa is talking about.

"Levi?" she breathes finally. "But we aren't— we aren’t dating! We’re just friends!"

Nifa plucks her lips and looks at Hange with suspicion and disbelief.

"But you're always together," she notes, staring at Hange through narrowed eyes.

"We're really not," Hange counters easily. "We just hang out sometimes."

"You skip classes with him. And he walks you home."

"And he saved you from Floch that one time," Moblit, the goddamn traitor, adds.

"And you're the only one he talks to, beside his two best friends." Nifa concludes with a confident smirk.

Hange looks from Moblit to Nifa, feeling at a loss of words.

It's not that she has never thought about it, she did sometimes, when Levi walked her home, and their hands brushed against each other, or when they sat on the roof together, their shoulders touching. Levi is handsome, even Hange - as bad as her eyesight is - knows that. But she also knows that Levi thinks she's messy and annoying. The hell would freeze sooner than he'd look at her like that.

So despite her frequent heart palpitations and leaps in breathing levels, Hange ignores her little crush, putting it to the furthest shelf of her mind.

Being friends with Levi is good enough. She doesn't wish for more.

And that's exactly what she tells to Moblit and Nifa.

"You're reading into things," she chuckles, dismissing their claims. "And now, it's time to read into something else!" she turns on the first slight of her presentation.

Moblit smiles and takes out his notebook. Nifa groans.

***

It's one of those days, when the world is bleak and grey, and the heavy clouds reign across the sky.

Looking out of the window, Hange feels an infinite sadness that isn't entirely caused by gloomy weather. For a second, she even debates skipping school at all, her mother probably wouldn't be against it, but Hange gets rid of that thought fairly quickly. It's not who she is, and wallowing in self-pity was never the way she dealt with her problems. Besides, the classes will provide an excellent distraction for her unhappy thoughts.

So Hange gets dressed, puts her hair in the usual ponytail and leaves her room. She greets her mother, who doesn't look quite as lively as she usually does, and kisses her cheek.

"I'll be home at five," Hange says quietly and walks outside.

The wind ruffles her hair, messing it up even more. It gets in her face and Hange pushes it away with a jerky movement of her wrist. She moves past her bike, deciding to walk to the school on her feet.

There are lots of things on her mind, and a lengthy stroll presents a perfect opportunity to think all of it through.

Hange walks through the grey, foggy streets with her head cast down. She stares at the ground, but not even an occasional sight of a sleazy worm is enough to lift her mood.

She reaches the gates of a school, when someone grabs her elbow.

Startled, she looks up. Levi is standing beside her.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his frown more prominent than usual.

“Nothing,” Hange lies, avoiding his sharp eyes.

Today they don’t remind her of the knife’s edge. Today, Hange thinks, they look just like a sky before a storm.

“What’s your first class?”

Levi stands close to her, too close. People are going to talk, Hange can’t help but think. But Levi doesn’t seem to care about it.

“English,” she answers, staring at her feet.

“Let’s go then,” moving his hand from her elbow, Levi grabs her by the sleeve of her hoodie. He starts walking, dragging Hange along. And because her eyes are still cast down, Hange doesn’t notice that they aren’t headed to a classroom until it’s a little too late.

Of course, Levi leads her to the roof.

He sits her down and looks at her expectantly. Hange shifts her gaze to a side. Under Levi's intense stare, something stirs inside her. There is worry in his eyes, Hange realizes. This revelation makes butterflies in her stomach slowly come to life.

Hange tries her best to ignore them.

"I'm fine, really," she repeats. She doesn't know who she's trying to fool - Levi or herself. She doesn’t achieve success with either of them.

The harsh wind is stronger on the roof, it blows through her hair, gets under her hoodie and sips deep in her bones. Hange suppresses a shiver.

"Idiot," Levi mutters, following it with an irritated tsk. He unzips his jacket, takes it off and drapes it around her shoulders.

Heat rises to her cheeks instantly. She feels incredibly warm and she knows that the jacket isn't the reason for it. The butterflies, despite her best efforts, happily flutter their wings.

"You'll catch a cold..." she whispers weakly. Levi is wearing a thin grey pullover and Hange can only imagine how cold he must be.

"Ackermans don't get sick," he says confidently, making Hange snicker. The corners of his lips twitch and he gently nudges her. "So what happened, four-eyes?"

Hange looks up, staring at the horizon. The skies seem even darker up there, and she briefly wonders how much time they can spend here until the rain starts and a need to hide from it forces them inside.

She wraps the jacket tighter around herself, and the sharp scent enters her nostrils. It smells like soap and cigarette smoke. It smells just like Levi.

Hange glances at him, and his stare is unwavering as he waits for her to start talking.

Hange sighs and begins.

"It's my dad," she confesses softly. "He's... getting married next week. And—" she chuckles, meaning for it to sound easy and cheerful. It comes out bitter and hollow instead. "I found out about that from his post on Facebook. He didn't invite me, didn't even tell me about this. I know— I know that he has a new family now. And I know that I probably remind him of the time when he was married to my mom, and I guess it wasn't a great experience for either of them, but still... he threw me out of his life so easily. It makes me sad, I guess."

"It's his loss," Levi says. "If he doesn't realize it, then he doesn't deserve you."

"Levi..." Hange whispers, aghast. She expected him to ignore her whining, or call her pathetic, but this… Hange doesn’t what to think. The warm feeling inside her is almost too much to bear.

"I know I'm not the best with words," Levi admits, while Hange is still busy processing his last ones and how good they made her feel. "But I can call Isabel, if you wish. Or that Berner boy," he adds with a tight-lipped expression.

Hange smiles, touched by his offer. But she talked it through already, last night with her mother. Today, she needs something else.

"Can we stay like this, please?" she asks, looking at him beneath her eyelashes.

"Sure," he agrees easily. And then— Levi does the unexpected again. He wraps his arm around her, pulling her closer. Her nose is pressed against his collarbone, and the butterflies go wild.

Hange pays them no mind. Levi is warm and he smells nice. She hides a smile into his shirt.

The sadness she felt throughout the morning disappears. With Levi's arms around her, Hange feels impossibly happy.

***

 It's almost seven in the evening, and the streets are already dark when Hange leaves the school after another biology club meeting.

The alleyway next to the school is dimly lit, so Hange almost misses a figure that sits on one of the benches. She stops as soon as she sees that dark silhouette, though. Despite the poor street lighting and her own imperfect eyesight, Hange recognizes him instantly. And wonders what is he doing there.

Levi walks her home every day, except Fridays. Fridays are club meeting days, and Hange often leaves the school late in the evening.

Levi never waits for her on Fridays.

So why is he here now?

Hange silently walks up to him, approaching him with a bit of caution. Levi sits weirdly, his shoulders seem too stiff. Her stomach churns with worry.

"Levi?" she softly calls. "Levi, what are you doing here?"

"Hange," he keeps his eyes trained on the ground, and Hange's worry increases. She doesn't like the hollowness of his voice.

Then she lowers her gaze, and the worry skyrockets. Levi's hands— they are covered in blood. She gasps and grabs his chin, turning his face to the light. A bloodied lip, a bruise on a cheek - Hange swears when she sees them.

"What happened?" she is instantly by his side, taking his hands into hers. She brings them closer to her face, looking for injuries.

"Zeke." Levi says.

"He's the one who did all of this to you?"

"Of course not," Levi throws her a sharp, offended look. "He just brought more friends than I could deal with."

"What a fucker," Hange mutters, anger warming up inside her. "Let's go to my place, I'll clean your wounds."

"And what about your mother?" Levi bites his lip. "Won't you get in trouble with her, if you bring me home, looking like this?"

"She has a night shift," Hange stands up, outstretching her hand to Levi. "And besides," she continues. "I’m sure my mom would adore you,” she winks at Levi, grinning. “Just like I do.”

***

Hange brings Levi home and tends to his wounds. She cleans his skinned knuckles and wipes the blood from his lip.  She tries to be gentle, apologizing over and over each time Levi winces. Every time he hisses or grits his teeth, the anger inside Hange grows bigger and bigger. She swears to herself that she won’t let Zeke get away with it.

When she starts wrapping bandages around his knuckles, her hands shake and tremble.

She wants to think that her inexperience is to blame, but she knows that the reason for her nervousness is Levi's warm breath on her cheek and his eyes that follow her every move.

Hange stares into them for a second. They look nothing like a knife's edge right now. They don't remind her of a sky before storm either. They're the color of a full moon. They're shining just as brightly.

"You're wrapping them too tight," Levi complains, breaking Hange out of her reverie.

"Oh, sorry!" Hange giggles, embarrassed. She hurries to rectify her mistake, but ends up making even a bigger mess, tangling up the bandages.

Levi sighs and snatches them out of her hands.

"You're shit at this," he says, bandaging his knuckles himself.

Hange snickers and watches him, committing each move to memory. She hopes she won’t need this knowledge in the future. But in case she does, next time she wants to be able to help.

“You can stay for the night,” Hange offers when his injuries are cared for. “We can put on a movie, make some popcorn…”

“Maybe, some other time,” Levi gently declines. “My mom probably worries like crazy. I should get home, before she sends Kenny after me.”

His refusal disappoints Hange a bit, but she doesn’t take it personally. She knows how much Levi cares about his mother. And she knows how much he hates causing her worry.

So she makes him promise to hang out tomorrow and walks him to the door.

"Thank you," Levi tells her, standing in the doorway.

"I didn't do anything..." she tries to protest.

"You did more than enough,” he says, the grey of his eyes softening. “Goodnight, Hange.”

“Goodnight,” she echoes, watching him go with a heavy heart.

  ***

After that Friday, Hange lets her anger brew for a whole weekend.

On Monday, she comes to school and seeks out Zeke. His friends stand around him, as she approaches, but Hange pays them no mind. She marches up to Zeke, grabs him by the collar and punches him in the face.

His loud shriek and a pathetic whimper that follows are absolutely priceless.

"That's for Levi," she glowers, before walking away, a smirk on her lips and her head held up high.

She gets sent to detention for that, but Levi calls her an idiot with a fond smile on his face, and Hange thinks it was all worth it.

He gets into a fight with Floch the very same day, and during detention they sit side by side, exchanging silly notes and making funny faces at each other.

"Just one condition left," Isabel tells her the next day, winking suggestively.

  ***

It is another Friday night, and Hange is engaged in a losing battle with her calculus homework. No matter what she does, what formula uses, nothing seems to work.

Her eyes are getting tired from glaring at her notebook, and Hange rubs at them, suppressing a yawn. It’s a little past ten, but she already feels exhausted, drained to the bone.

She thinks of just abandoning it all and going to sleep, when a small rock lands on her desk. Hange blinks a few times, utterly confused.

How did it get here?

She scratches her head, trying to make sense of it. A second later, another rock appears.

Hange looks up, turns to the window— and smile breaks on her face. She squeals in delight, jumping to her feet and coming to grip the windowsill.

Levi is sitting on a branch of a tree that grows near her house. He wears his signature jacket, and he’s looking at Hange with the expression of fond annoyance that he reserves exclusively for her.

“Took you long enough to notice me,” he grumbles. “I was thinking of aiming the next rock at your stupid head.”

Hange laughs, not taking his words to heart. She knows Levi well enough by now to see through his insults and sarcasm.

“Are you free right now?” he asks, before Hange gets her chance to question what is he doing up on a tree.

“It’s Friday night and I’m sick of doing my homework, so…” she shrugs. “I am as free as I can be.”

“Alright. And your mom? Is she at home?”

“She is, but she’s already asleep.”

“Get out then.”

“Eh? What does that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what I said,” Levi scoffs. The confused expression doesn’t leave her face, so he rolls his eyes and adds, “I stole the keys to Kenny’s bike. Do you want to take a ride on it or not?”

Hange feels her lips twitching. She wants to say ‘yes’ so badly, but for the sake of messing with Levi, she puts on a doubtful frown.

“Won’t you get in trouble with your uncle?”

“Only if he finds out.”

“Will he be able to find out?”

“Most certainly.”

"And you still wanna do it?" she asks, just to see the exasperated look Levi throws her.

"Of course," he answers through his teeth, his patience starting to run thin.

"Alright!" she finally agrees. She jumps and clasps her hands together, unable to contain her excitement. "Just wait a sec, I need to change my clothes!"

Levi nods, throws ‘don’t take too long’ and starts climbing off a tree.

Just as she promised, Hange gets ready in record time. She jumps out of the window, landing next to Levi with a pained huff.

"Are you alright?" he steadies her, his eyes shadowed with worry.

"Sure!" Hange assures him with a smile. "The landing was just a bit rougher than I expected."

"You could have left through the front door, like a normal person." Levi notes.

"But where is the fun in that?" Hange counters.

Levi shakes his head and curses her idiocy under his breath. Hange claps his shoulder and chuckles.

"Shall we go?" she raises her arms to tie up her hair.

"Don't." Levi blurts out suddenly.

Hange stops in her tracks, gawking at him. "Eh?"

"Leave it like that," his voice is rough and breathy as he speaks. Levi turns his face away, and Hange desperately wishes to know what it looks like right now. She bets it’s all red and flustered. "When you wear your hair down... It’s not a bad look on you."

Hange can't believe it. Did she mishear? Misunderstood something? Or did Levi really just pay her a compliment?

Now it’s her turn to be flustered. She feels her face redden. Her heart starts to hummer in her chest.

Levi doesn’t give her enough time to process, and, of course, to retaliate. 

"I parked the bike near your house," he walks away so briskly, it's hard for Hange to catch up.

When she does, Levi is already standing next to a shining black motorcycle. Hange knows next to nothing about motorcycles, but, in her opinion, the thing looks cool. She runs a hand over it, and her excitement almost makes her feel dizzy.

She has never ridden a motorcycle. But she is sure it's quite a thrilling experience.

"Put that on," Levi instructs, handing her a helmet. "And hold on to me, alright?"

"Of course!" Hange mockingly salutes.

"Don't do anything stupid, four-eyes," he glowers before putting a helmet on his own head and getting onto the bike.

Hange waits for him to sit down and then she follows his suit. She wraps her arms around Levi, fisting her hands into the lapels of his leather jacket.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice muffled by a helmet.

Hange nods, pressing her head to his shoulder.

Levi starts the motorcycle and carefully rides onto the street. He maneuvers out of the narrow path and onto the broad road. He speeds up after that and Hange can't hold in a delighted chuckle. She raises her head and looks around.

The streets they pass by are nothing more than a blur of bright lights and vivid colors, and Hange can't stop staring at it all. To make the experience even more electrifying, she's pressed so close to Levi that she can feel his heartbeat. Or, maybe, that's an echo of her own. Their proximity makes it hard to tell. She also feels incredibly warm, having her arms wrapped around him makes Hange forget about the harsh wind that seems even stronger as they ride through the night city.

Levi obviously has a final destination in mind, but Hange doesn't care, not right now, when she is filled with so much joy and elation.

She feels so free, she feels so good, so happy, she is so—

"I swear to god, Hange!" Levi shouts over the wind. "If you're thinking of dangling your arms in the air or some equally dumb shit, I'm going to throw you off this thing myself!"

Hange laughs, wild and unbridled.

She is so in love.

*** Levi brings them to the beach.

As soon as he stops the engine, Hange gets off the bike and runs to the sea, kicking away her shoes as she goes. She steps into the water and yells, instantly jumping out of it. The water is freezing, but Hange is stubborn. She wants to try again, hoping that her body would adjust. Before she can take a single step in that direction, though, she is roughly yanked back.

She turns around and meets Levi's sizzling gaze.

"Sit the fuck down," he growls. "Or you wish to get pneumonia?"

Hange can't help it - her heart swells and her stomach tingles.

Levi, despite his dark, scary eyes and scowling face, is surprisingly endearing. He's so cute Hange wants pinch his cheek. Desperately so.

And because she's still filled with adrenaline after their ride, or, maybe, the dark sea and quiet night have an effect on her, Hange does just that.

Levi slaps her hand away a second too late. She laughs, and, to placate him, finally sits down, burying her feet in the sand.

Levi takes a seat next to her. A second later, something heavy and warm falls over her shoulders. Hange touches it with her fingers - it's Levi's jacket.

"It's cold," he explains gruffly, answering the silent question in her eyes.

"Thanks," Hange smiles, and, because she still feels inexplicably bold, she puts her head on his lap.

Levi startles, his whole body goes rigid, but he doesn't push her away, doesn't even complain. After a moment, he relaxes - his hand falls on her shoulder and his fingers starts playing with her hair.

It's nice, Hange thinks. She wishes to stay in this moment forever.

She turns to look at the sea - the stars and moon are reflecting in the darkness of the water, illuminating a narrow path. She points her finger at it.

"I once believed that if you follow that path during full moon, you'll become a mermaid," she tells Levi.

Levi snorts. "You believed in something so stupid? Why am I not surprised?"

"What ridiculous thing did you believe in?"

Levi is silent for a long moment, and Hange thinks he's not going to answer. She opens her mouth to change the topic, but then—

"I believed in Santa until I was thirteen years old."

"What?!" Hange shrieks, rising up from her position to gawk at Levi. "You're serious?"

"Unfortunately," he grunts, pushing her back on his lap. "Kenny put a very convincing show. It's not until I caught my mom hiding presents under a Christmas tree that I finally realized the truth."

Hange really, really tries to keep it in, but she imagines the disappointment on Levi's face and absolutely loses it. Laughter bubbles out of her throat, and Hange curls in on herself, laughing without abandon. Her stomach starts to hurt, tears well up in the corners of her eyes, and Hange still continues to giggle, expressing her mirth until she can't breathe anymore.

"Oh god, Levi," she wipes the tears away. "This is the best thing I've heard in weeks."

"Glad you are having fun on my account," he says dryly.

Hange starts laughing again.

When she finally calms down, the silence falls over them.

It's so quiet there, the only sounds are faraway noises of the city and the loud roar of the sea that accompanies the crashing of waves against the shore.

All of it makes Hange feel at peace in a way she rarely does.

After minutes of staring at the seemingly endless sea and basking in the atmosphere of it all, she tears her gaze away from the it, shifting her eyes to Levi. And finds out - he is looking at her too.

His stare is intense, charged with something she can't quite name, something that makes it impossible to look away.

As their eyes meet, Levi swallows. His hand in her hair stills, and he starts to slowly lower his face to hers. Hange lifts her head too. The tension around them is growing, and Hange forgets how to breathe until— until it hits her.

"Of course!" she cries out, jumping up. She hits Levi's jaw with her forehead, but doesn't pause long enough to fully register it. She can't spare her attention to anything else, the math problem she tried to solve for so long— she finally found the solution.

"Levi!" she seizes his shoulders, staring at him with wide, feverish eyes. "We need to go back, quick!"

"What—"

"I realized how to solve it!" she gets to her feet, pacing around and impatiently waiting for Levi to stand up as well.

"Solve what?" Levi grimaces, looking like he has eaten a sour lemon.

Unfortunately, Hange is too preoccupied with her sudden revelation to notice his expression or even answer his question.

"Way to ruin the moment," he mutters before standing up and walking back to the bike, his face as dark as the sea. ***

It's the last Friday before St. Valentine's Day, and everyone at their school starts going crazy.

Hange is spending lunch with Nifa and Moblit, but their sandwiches lay forgotten, as the three of them curiously watch Porco's pathetic attempt to ask Pieck out. He keeps stuttering and his face is so red, Hange is worried he might pass out, but then Pieck smiles and kisses him on a cheek. Cheers and congratulations are heard from all sides of school cafeteria.

"So it's settled then?" Hange turns to Moblit. "Porco and Pieck are actually dating?"

"I guess..." Moblit tentatively agrees.

"I saw Reiner and Porco kissing the other day," Nifa interrupts.

"And I saw Reiner and Berthold hold hands on their way home," Hange mutters, taking a bite from her sandwich.

"I'm not sure," Moblit rubs his neck. "But I think I caught Pieck making out with Yelena the other day."

"So it's still complicated," Nifa mournfully concludes. "At least, their love life is more interesting than mine..."

"Speaking of love," Moblit quietly begins. Both Hange and Nifa whip their heads to stare at him. Moblit's cheeks turn pink, but he stubbornly continues to look at Hange. "I wanted to ask if..."

Whatever he wanted to ask, Hange doesn't get a chance to find out. Because in the next second, a shadow flashes past them. It appears by her side and drapes a leather jacket over her shoulders.

"It's too cold today," Levi explains, as he sits down next to her, inserting himself between Hange and Moblit.

It's not cold at all, and, besides Hange is wearing a warm pullover.

But that's not the only thing that confuses her. What is Levi doing here? Why is he sitting so close to her? And why is he glaring at Moblit?

"Why are you here, Levi?" Hange decides to start with the easiest question.

"Can't find Farlan and Isabel," he answers flippantly, not taking his eyes from Moblit.

Now that's most certainly a lie. Hange can clearly see Isabel and Farlan sitting in their usual spot, in the furthest corner of cafeteria. And even if she didn't turn around to locate them, Isabel's delighted cackling is heard even from a distance.

"It's best if I go," Moblit says, a drop of sweat rolling down his forehead.

"I'll go with you," Nifa offers, taking her trail.

"We are just friends, my ass," she angrily mutters, throwing another exasperated look at Hange and Levi.

Hange turns to Levi as soon as her friends leave, she really, really wants to know what the fuck had just happened, but she opens her mouth in the exact moment that a bell rings.

Levi wordlessly gets up and disappears in the crowd of students. He forgets to take back his jacket.

  ***

As Hange moves from class to class, everyone keeps staring at her. It’s not bad kind of attention, no one whispers insults behind her back, Erwin actually approaches, offering sincere congratulations, and when she meets Zeke’s gaze in the hallway, she sees a spark of fear there, and it fills her with a deep sense of satisfaction, but— it also makes her confused.

Why did Levi give his jacket to her? Why did he give her his jacket so many times before? Why has she never seen Isabel or Farlan wear it? What makes her special?

Hange always enjoyed solving riddles. She is determined to find a solution to this one as well.

  ***

After her last class, Hange rushes to the rooftop. Just as she expected, Levi is there. And, luckily, he’s all alone.

He’s smoking, but as soon as he notices her presence, he puts the cigarette out and waves his hand, getting rid of the smoke.

Sitting beside him, Hange shoots him a grateful smile.

“So did you know about the dance they’re organizing this weekend?” she begins, skipping the pleasentries and small talk. As she speaks, she tilts her head to the side to stare at Levi’s profile. In the light of a setting sun, he looks even more handsome. Her heart picks up its speed. She ignores it and forces words out of her throat. “Do you wish to go?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Hange wonders, not saddened by his answer at all. She was expecting nothing else, after all.  “Just imagine – me in a dress and with shitty, smeared lipstick and you in a shirt and tie… We’ll be dancing in a stuffy auditorium, drinking spiced punch and having fun with our peers…”

Levi visibly shudders at her words. “I’d rather jump off this roof.”

Hange snickers in her palm. “And if I go with Moblit?” she asks, watching Levi with a sly smile.

“I’ll throw him off this roof.”

That’s exactly the answer Hange was expecting. Even so, her heart does a flip and her breathing speeds up. Her cheeks feel hot and a wide grin is pulling on her lips. The scariest part is over, but the nerves don’t die out. There are still a few questions she needs answers to.

“And if I asked you out to the movies…”

“That’s not a bad idea…” Levi mumbles, keeping his eyes trained on his feet.

Hange gathers the last of her courage.

“And if I kissed you right now?”

Her heart stops, as she nervously waits for a reply. Millennia pass before she hears Levi’s gruff voice.

“That’s… a very good idea.”

He turns to her, staring at her and the intensity of his piercing gaze makes Hange weak in the knees. There is a moment, where nothing happens, but it lasts for no longer than a heartbeat. Then Levi cups her cheek and moves closer, his lips hovering above hers.

Hange closes her eyes and shortens the small distance that separates them.

The kiss is short, chaste and more than a little bit awkward. Even so, it’s the first kiss in her life and Hange lets her lips linger on Levi’s for a little longer, savoring that moment and committing it to her memory.

When they pull apart, Levi doesn’t let her go. If anything he brings her even closer, bumping their foreheads together.

His eyes are warm and soft, and Hange isn’t sure if she had seen anything more beautiful. But then she lets her eyes wander, slipping lower, and she sees a smile that blooms on his face. She can’t decide what she likes to stare at more – his eyes or his smile. After a second of intense debating, Hange comes to conclusion that both his eyes and his smile are equally breathtaking.

She thinks of asking for another kiss, when she remembers something just as important.

“I finally did it, Levi!” she loudly announces, throwing her hands in the air. “I fulfilled the fourth condition!”

Levi pushes her away with a groan. “Why must you always ruin the atmosphere…” he wonders with a deep scowl on his face.

To be honest, Hange liked it better when he smiled. But, luckily, now she knows a sure way to placate him.

With a gentle smile on her lips, she pulls him closer for another kiss.

[citydreamgrls]

the empty diary - part one

fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: it had appeared out of the blue, a diary that contained an odd power, one which would backfire and reveal her true feelings to the one she wished to hide it from most.

an: this is the first part in a new mini-series, i hope you all enjoy !!

words: 4,051 

warnings: smut in later parts 

The book had appeared on top of her cases when the girl had arrived in her dorm the previous day, its crimson red cover sticking out amongst the dark wood trunks. It had been a small surprise, the pages between all empty to her eyes as she scanned through it quickly. But something had drawn her to the mysterious object as she felt the leather slip between her fingers as if it was somewhat familiar.

Since it was empty, and there was no one who was asking after a lost diary, the girl decided to use it as just that. Spending most evenings of the first few weeks back at Hogwarts hiding herself away to spill out those nagging thoughts; thoughts that she’d never before had the idea to write down.

Most days she could time it so that Hermione was busy helping Ron with transfiguration work and not sitting around watching her write furiously, doing her best to not interrupt. As much as she trusted Hermione, she knew how curious her best friend could be at times and wanted to keep this one thing private for as long as she could manage.

It wasn’t long, however, as she’d imagined.

“y/n-” Hermione had burst into the room, catching the girl off guard, who had learnt to zone out all noises while she wrote. Which meant she hadn’t noticed the rushed footsteps pounding up the stone steps to their room before it was too late. “What’s that?”

The girl did her best to act casual, her little desk which she was sitting at normally gathering dust, and slid the book beneath some forgotten homework from last year.

“Oh… nothing.” She panicked, and blurted out, knowing full well that no excuse would satisfy Hermione’s interest more than the truth.

“Show me,” A hand reached past her, pushing papers away to reveal the red leather standing out amongst the white sheets.

“It’s really- Hermione!”

No amount of body blocking could have stopped the girl’s friend when she was determined, regardless of how much she tried; Hermione was a surprisingly strong girl.

“Stop it!” Y/n cried out, laughing when she felt the girl hovering over her reach down to tickle her. Grinning at the way she crumbled beneath the feeling, whining out about foul play.

Hermione’s hands had already grasped the book, frowning at its blank cover and holding it heavy in her hands. The other girl, now released from the temporary torture of tickling, stood beside her friend and tried one last time to reclaim her new diary.

It, in a clumsy turn of events, fell to the floor. The pages audibly flicking through themselves, as they watched it cascade to the ground as it was slower than time.

Y/n silently prayed, begged and wished that it would land with the covers closed over her intimate thoughts, fearful of how the girl beside her would react to something so personal. But as two pages laid out before them both, and the girl held her breath, it seemed as if fate heard her call as the pair stared down to see a blank response.

She let out a little breath, forgetting that she needed to reclaim the book before Hermione got a chance. The girl in question, however, seemed confused by the book before her.

“What?” Y/n scoffed, following her eyes to see what had made her speechless in the last ten seconds or so. Joining the silence as their jaws dropped agape at the sight before them both.

“Am I going mad?” Hermione asked, seeing the ink appear slowly on the once empty page, words coming into view in the form of sentences y/n had curated herself only moments before her friend had burst into the room. She just shook her head at the empty question, too amazed by what they were witnessing to bother talking.

Shaking hands reached for it, worried it may combust between her fingers as the girl held it tenderly. Hermione’s name was printed in bold amongst the rest of the words, something she herself hadn’t done.

“Did you write about me?”

“Only good things,” She smiled, trying to avoid her prying eyes, but it was no use.

“I think it’s been charmed… but by who.”

There was a silence between the two girls as their mind’s whirred for a moment, the faint echo of passing owls sounding amongst their breaths. Y/n was close to a scream when Hermione lunged towards her, taking the book from her and throwing it onto the bed with a panicked look, a thought having plagued her mind suddenly.

“We shouldn’t trust it, not after what happened to Ginny in second year.”

“Oh come on Mione, you-know-who isn’t going to try the same trick twice.”

“Well, where did you find it then?” She demanded to know, her hands resting all too comfortably on her hips like an angry mother.

“It was just… onmycases.” The girl mumbled, now understanding where the hesitance was coming from.

“Where y/n?” Her voice was stern.

“On my case, it was just laying there for me.”

“Well then we definitely can't trust it!”

“I’ve had it for weeks already, and still nothing bad has happened, I think I'm safe.” A laugh sounded from her mouth, more to reassure herself as she picked it up again, the leather still feeling natural between her skin.

Her friend didn’t seemed convinced and took it from her yet again, making y/n groan out in annoyance as Hermione paced the room, trying to study it for herself.

“Give it back Mione!”

“I just want to try something-” “It’s private!” “I’m not interested in your crushes y/n,” She scoffed, but noticed the entry she had dedicated to how good Oliver Wood had looked at the first quidditch practice.

“Oh come on it’s not a crush- what are you doing?”

Hermione held her wand out, muttering as many spells as she could think of to try and reveal the whole book to her, having noticed the stray empty pages between entries.

“I wrote on those, what’s it doing?” The girl asked, peering over her friend's shoulder as she refused to stop walking round their dorm.

“I think it’s charmed to the reader, here, you hold it.” “Well, it’s not like it’s mine or anything.” She huffed, finally taking it back and flicking between pages. Where Hermione had seen blanks, she watched the words reappear. “See, now it’s coming back.” “Not for me, that one’s still blank.” Her friend furrowed her brow, thinking intently as the girl placed the book back down on her pokey desk.

“I think it’s been charmed so that whoever reads it only sees entries in which they’re mentioned. You can see all of them because you wrote them, but I could only see the ones which you had written me into.” Her brain spilled out this theory so confidently that all y/n could do was nod in agreement, seeing no flaws to what she was stating.

“That seems, risky, right?” She offered up, unsure of what else to say.

“Very, but somewhat safer than muggle diaries at least.” Hermione giggled, laying back with a sigh. “I only came up for a textbook, but it seems like Ron’s troubles are nowhere near as interesting as this is.”

“I’m glad I can at least entertain,” The girl rolled her eyes, “Hey, maybe we should test this out a bit more.”

“That way we can know whether what I think is right, great idea!” Hermione seemed excited at the prospect of an experiment, regardless of how mundane or easy it was.

“We can use Ron and Harry!”

-

The two girls peered around a bookcase, spotting the redhead and four eyes struggling to think of an original thought between them as they waited for Hermione to return. She rolled her eyes, knowing they’d get nothing done without her.

“Give it here,” Y/n took the red book from her friend, spotting how possessive they’d both become of it.

“I was keeping it safe for you, this could be bad in the wrong hands y/n,” She hissed, not wanting to draw the boys’ attention until they were ready. “Now, write Ron’s name in here and Harry’s on another page. That way we can see which one they can see when holding the book.” The top student explained simply, the girl beside her just nodding as she scribbled quickly, their sneaky stances now garnering a bit of attention around them.

“Done. Let’s try it out.” She smiled, holding the book amongst others she’d brought down with her, hiding their plan behind the lie of another outstanding essay to complete.

“Finally!” Ron huffed, seeing the girls arrive after enough time waiting.

“Well, if you actually listened to Mcgonnagall during class then you wouldn’t need to wait for me to come and hold your hand.” Hermione snapped, taking her seat beside the boy as y/n joined Harry.

He seemed unfazed by the bright red leather slipped between her plain school books as she placed them down, he was too preoccupied by a girl making eyes at him from across the library.

“I just don’t get why I need to know all this, I don’t even want to take Transfiguration next year so it doesn’t matter, it’s a waste of time.” Ron was groaning as Hermione watched her pull out the diary subtly, sighing and flicking open the pages. She hushed the boy beside her as y/n began further writing next to his name, he watched her with a scowl before she held up the page to him.

Ron, Mcgonnagall’s in here you git! Be quiet.

“Is she, oh bloody hell.” He put his head down after reading the words she’d written out for him, Hermione nodding to her when she hadn’t been able to see it herself. It was a lie of course, the Professor’s very rarely spent time in the library, and Ron probably knew it deep down, but it was enough to prove that their theory was right. The girl’s friend stared at Harry, who was still distracted from the rest of them, signalling that she should still try it with him.

Harry, is she your new girlfriend? ;)

She wrote, sliding the message over to him, and nudging his side with a giggle. It made the dark haired boy blush but still he scoffed and denied that he’d been making eyes at anyone. Ron had seen the quiet exchange and frowned, seeing a blank page from his point of view.

“Was there anything on there?” He whispered to Hermione, who dismissed his question with a sigh and quickly changed the subject to keep their little secret.

-

The two girls sat awake on their beds that evening, having proven the true powers of y/n’s diary and agreed that something this simple was unlikely to be dark magic. They had tested as many spells on it to show if it was capable of more, but it seemed that hiding irrelevant entries was all it could do.

“You should keep a locking spell on it, and probably keep it safe, if someone managed to get it open that would be awful.”

“Who do you think would be the worst person.” Y/n inquired, her brain worn out from all the possibilities she’d run through.

“Oliver Wood.” Hermione teased.

“Shut up! I don’t like him.”

“There’s someone though, right? I saw some words about a boy.”

“Not really.”

“It seemed like you were interested in them.” She let out a small laugh in the dimly lit room at her friend’s blatant lie, knowing that when she liked someone she would deny it for the rest of her life until she too believed it not to be true. “It’s not a bad thing to like someone.”

Hermione did her best to reassure her friend, but the girl seemed caught in her thoughts as they welcomed the silence between them, her wand spinning between her fingers mindlessly. She decided to drop it, seeing how uncomfortable it had made her, but surprisingly it was y/n who spoke up.

“I don’t think they would feel the same way, that’s all.” Her voice was quiet, and reserved. A world apart from how she usually acted around her best friend.

“Who is it?” Hermione asked, seeing the hesitance on the girl’s face as she thought about how to answer.

“You really cannot tell a soul, I mean this.”

“I promise y/n, no one will know.” She placed her hands into the girl’s, squeezing tight to try and relax her as best as she could.

“Okay, well, it’s nothing big it’s just an interest that’s it. And really, I’m not too sure about it myself.”

“Okay, go on.”

-

A few days passed, with Hermione and y/n successfully keeping the diary a secret between them. Not that Ron and Harry would have ever been that bothered by it, or its powers, at all.

It was yet another night spent studying in the library when things went wrong. The girl had been there for a good few hours now, her diligent friend always one to motivate her whenever she needed it. The diary had been forgotten amongst her other books, its locking spell casted safely over it.

Still, that spell wasn’t completely safe and they had done all they could to strengthen it, but someone would most likely be able to crack it open after some research into counter spells.

They had chosen a small table by the windows, the beginnings of a storm crashing against the glass as hushed voices floated around the large room. It was private, and not many people seemed to pass by, so when Hermione went to find yet another book to help with her latest essay, the girl decided it would be a chance to write in the red bound book for a little while.

She held her wand and whispered the words to open it up to her, its pages flittering to the next empty piece of paper within. The quill in her hand danced around as she wrote all about her day, about the storm, about the people in her classes and about the boy she was learning to like with every second spent in his presence.

Beyond the castle walls the wind blustered against the stone, the howls tunneling through the hallways and creating a small breeze at her feet. She shivered, ignoring the cold as best she could and focused instead on the words she wrote.

“God that rain sounds awful!” A voice boomed nearby, dragging her away from her thoughts hurriedly.

“Do you think quidditch will be cancelled?” Another droned on, obviously annoyed at this prospect. She recognised the twins immediately as their footsteps reached her side.

“I hope not- oh y/n you’re still here?” George asked as they both stopped. She shut the book quickly, looking up from where she sat to smile politely. Both boys towered above her as they stood with hands in their pockets.

“We saw you earlier with Hermione, but you looked busy so we didn’t dare interrupt.” Fred laughed lightly, peering over at her work beside her. “You got much to do?”

“Uh not too much, Hermione is here somewhere but she’s-” “Off being a goody two shoes?” Fred teased.

“Hey, that’s mean.”

“Sorry, I should have included both of you in that statement.”

The girl had wondered how long it would take for the twins to start annoying her again, their greatest pleasure in life was seeing someone bothered by them and that never excluded herself.

“At least I don’t fly around like a maniac every other night,” She huffed.

“Hey, quidditch is very respected.” George snapped back.

“Yeah, for teenage boys that is.” She scoffed, ignoring their grimaces and pulling out her potions book.

“Yeah well-” Fred was cut off by the sound of glass smashing somewhere else in the library, the storm from outside flying in with no regard for the panicked students. Screams sounded out as more and more windows caved into the growing pressure, and the girl stood up to see if she could spot Hermione amongst them.

“We need to go!” George cried out to his brother, who grabbed the girl’s arm. She took it back, needing to find Hermione first before getting out.

“Y/n!” Her friend called out over the howls of wind, appearing from behind a stack of books and taking her friend’s hand. “Come on!” She dragged her away from the table.

“Wait, what about-” SHe started, remembering the red diary laying unprotected on the table. She hadn’t had time to cast the spell over it, and now as they ran through the small crowd of students she had no chance to turn back.

“Y/n come on!” Fred yanked on her arm again, giving her no option but to follow as he overpowered her protests easily.

-

They weren’t allowed back in until the next afternoon, once the room had been cleared of smashed glass, and the windows were repaired. It was quiet now, the storm having been and gone, and the sun shone in calmly as if nothing had happened.

“Over here, this was where we were yes?” Hermione asked, spotting her pile of textbooks stacked neatly on their table. A few pages had been ripped at the edges, and she could see obvious signs of water damage. But mostly, it was salvageable.

“I can’t find it!” Y/n said, rushing to shove everything out of the way. The diary was nowhere to be found.

“It’ll be here, just keep looking.”

The girl threw herself to the ground, crawling beneath the table where she’d had it last and looking in all the dark corners. But no matter where she looked, the red leather was missing.

“I’ll go ask Madame Pince, she may have picked it up if it looked important.” Hermione told her friend as she slumped into the chair, her head falling between her hands in despair.

It was open, unlocked for anyone to look inside. Whoever had it may not be able to read anything, but if it got passed around to someone mentioned then it was over. The girl collected the things that had been left in the midst of the storm and remembered how adamant the twins had been to get her out, especially Fred.

They could have easily taken it while she was distracted looking for Hermione, not to mention that they would revel in knowing her every secret. But that was the last thing she wanted to believe, as it would mean she would need to drown herself in the black lake out of embarrassment.

Since she learnt of the diary’s power, she had been careful not to mention him by name, knowing that it would immediately reveal itself to him if found. But, what about the ones before when his name was repeated over and over, when she wasn’t sure why she felt the need to write about him, or her feelings towards him. It just felt right.

Now, it was all wrong. What if there was more, what if the power stretched to intention too. If it knew that the person reading it was being written about, without blatantly stating their name, would that mean it would still reveal itself. She hated that her and Hermione hadn’t thought of this idea until now, when it was too late.

“It has to be the twins!” Y/n stated, when her friend returned from the librarian’s office empty handed, her eyes wide and determined.

“You really think so?” “Who else would want to have that kind of upper hand over someone?” “It would be their best prank this term, even if it’s a bit cruel.”

“We need to get it back! Remember what I said the other night, all of that could be unveiled if they are the ones who have it.” She urged, getting to her feet in an instant, forgetting all the things they needed to carry back to their dorms and storming out of the library.

-

Fred would have recognised the red cover from a mile away, it had been clutched between the girl’s hands for weeks now, obviously full of secrets since she felt the need to cast a locking spell on it. She thought she had been subtle about it, but he had seen her do it every time she closed it in the great hall or the common room.

But it wasn’t in her hands, it was poking out of a pile of books a random second year boy was carrying. He frowned, leaving George’s side to follow the Ravenclaw boy round the corner and down an empty hall.

“Hey!” He called out, making the younger boy jump in surprise. “Is that yours?” He pointed to the book in his arms, making his eyes widen in fear at the tall redhead. Everyone knew who they were, but they were always known for being easygoing. Now his stern tone instilled fear in the boy’s face as he got closer. He shook his head, the red book falling as he scrambled away in a panic, not wanting to stick around to find out what Fred would do if he found out it was stolen during the storm.

“Little bugger.” Fred mumbled, picking it up and seeing the page that it had fallen open onto. He could hear footsteps running after him and quickly shoved the book into his robes, turning just in time to see his brother turn the corner with a look of confusion on his face.

“What was that all about?” He asked.

“Oh, nothing. I just thought I saw something…” Fred trailed off, quickly losing George’s interest.

“God, anyone would think you’re going mental.”

Maybe he was. Racing after someone over a diary that wasn’t even his, but he had seen the unmistakable scrawling’s of y/n’s writing. Then his name, as clear as day.

-

Fred waited until everyone in his dorm fell asleep before taking out the diary, casting a quiet lumos spell and slipping beneath the covers to secretly read what was inside. He started with the first entry, his name appearing first before the other words faded into view.

Dear Diary,

Maybe I’m going mad, or someone has cursed me to think this way, but something feels different about Fred Weasley. For the first time in years I can definitively tell that it is him when he’s stood beside his brother, instead of having to guess like I used to. It’s like I can finally pick him out in a room, when before he just blended into everyone else, yet when I see him he’s just getting on with his life and doing nothing special.

He’s taller than he used to be, and he smiles more, and his voice is deeper than I realised. But maybe these are all things that I’m just noticing now, because I want to know more. Everything about him makes me want to know more, and I can’t explain why, it’s pure curiosity.

Now when he talks to me, the same way he has done for years, I feel excited and nervous and all these other emotions I wouldn’t have expected to relate to Fred. It’s as if I see him as a new person, like we’ve just met… properly.

Maybe I am going mad, or maybe this is all a prank to him to make me feel this way, but until I fix it I will just have to live with it. I’m hoping writing it down may help hide how I feel from him, for a little while.

Fred’s eyes read fast, each word dragging him in deeper and deeper into her mind, as if he could see every thought as it was produced. He read it over and over, slowly and carefully, to make sure what he had seen was true.

He could never show anyone this, that would crush her, but he enjoyed this little secret. The boy liked knowing that she saw him differently to all the other boys in her life, but what made him the happiest was that he was the only one to know what she was thinking.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I’m Always Curious Part Twenty Nine

Previous Part | Next Part |  Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕

Also if y’all didn’t see, I made an I’m Always Curious Playlist, check it out if you’re interested 😊 Also toying with the next chapter being in Pike’s POV, we’ll see tho

Warnings: Cursing and mentions of canon-typical violence Summary: When I had determined the most appropriate position for the tag and that couldn’t quiet my mind any longer, I headed down to the shuttle bay.

Having had opposing pictures of her character drawn for me by Spock and Tilly, meeting Commander Michael Burnham was a bit of a trip.

The things that Spock had told me about her led me to expect someone austere, distant. But while she was composed, she was cordial, going so far as to make small talk on the way to the Ready Room. It wasn’t in the forced way that it had originally been with Jett, either. Apparently Burnham had heard a fair amount from me from Tilly. Jett joined us in the turbolift, and from there it was a short trek to the Ready Room.

I felt my stomach twist in apprehension as we neared the doors. While I had had some time to process the fact that Pike and I were in close range again, I had spent far too much of the last hour reflecting on the look he’d given me. I was distinctly out of place in the Ready Room. Not only was I the most unfamiliar with the crew, but I was still in my civvies. The Captain was already there, a PADD in hand. His eyes darted to the three of us we entered, but they quickly lowered to the device again as he said, “Commander Burnham, a word, please.” Burnham excused herself from Jett and myself, and I took the moment to look around. I ached with the familiarity - the sight of Chris’ table from Mojave in the room, along with a few other things that had made the trip over from the Enterprise. I drifted toward a window, unable to help my fingers trail over the wood of the table on my way. Jett followed at a pace, glancing at Burnham and Pike before stopping beside me. “Any idea how long Durling’ll take?” She asked. I shook my head a little. “Cornwell just said that he’d be here in a few hours.” At the sound of the Ready Room door opening, I straightened, hands tucking behind my back at attention-- And then I immediately dropped them as I scoffed, “Oh, it’s you.” “Is that any way to greet me?” Eli asked, walking deeper into the room, “You used to stand at attention, be all ‘yessir’ about it.” “I am your superior now, Durling.” “In rank only,” He retorted, coming to stop just in front of me. Despite his words, though, he was pointing that warm smile down at me, like not a day had passed or a thing had changed. And I couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto my face at his familiar gaze and teasing. After the war, Durling had been assigned to the USS Cetus, a temporary post as he awaited an official reassignment. While we spoke from time to time, I hadn't seen him in weeks. “God, I forgot what a dick you were,” Jett grumbled beside us. Eli turned to her, brows raising in surprise. “And it’s good to see you, too, Reno. Especially considering we thought--” “Oh, I know. This one got all misty on me about it,” Jett nodded to me. “Unnecessary detail,” I muttered.  “You can cry? I thought you’d gotten your tear ducts removed back on Starbase 115,” Eli frowned at me. “I would punch you if we weren’t in mixed company.” “Restraint? Wow, that’s new for you.”  We turned at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind us. Pike was there, brows raised a little. Eli smiled, turning fully from myself at Jett. “Eli Durling,” He introduced himself to both Pike and Burnham. “Commander Michael Burnham. Welcome aboard.” “Christopher Pike,” Pike tacked on as he shook Eli’s hand. Eli glanced back at me, brow raised, and I felt the urge to punch him intensify. Instead I just gave him a slight glare before averting my eyes. He knew about me and Pike. I had spent the last year with the man, we’d spent that time having one another’s backs. He knew all of my secrets— but then, I knew all of his. “We should start the briefing, the target’s nearly in range,” Pike added as dropped Eli's hand. “We’ve never run any 22-9-14s on the Discovery,” Burnham explained. “Well, you’re in luck, because the three of us ran a lot of them," Eli nodded back toward me and Jett. “Define a lot, I mean how many times did you ruin your phaser cannons after you transferred?” Jett asked. “Well,” Eli glanced back at me, “I’m not sure I have a count on the phaser cannons, but I personally ran around a hundred, and the Commander ran a number somewhere in the 300s.” “Somewhere? Where in the 300s?” Jett frowned at me. “I’m not sure that’s pertinent to this briefing, as I don’t have the same penchant for bragging that Lieutenant Commander Durling does,” I folded my arms across my chest. Eli smiled.

“Regardless, you’re in good hands,” He added, turning back to Pike and Burnham, “I’ll coordinate from the Bridge while the Commander takes care of the tagging process. Any questions?” “I’ve got one,” I piped up. “Of course you do--” “What am I tagging?” I asked over him. Eli nodded to Pike’s desk, and Pike stepped out of the way, waving his hand with silent permission. I watched as Eli walked over to it, opening a file and pulling up a holographic display of a ship. I pushed off of the wall and walked over to join him with the others, my eyes wandering the surface of the ship. “Is that a DY-100 Sleeper?” I frowned, bracing my hands on the desk to get a better look. “It is,” He confirmed, “The S.S. Botany Bay.” “You’re familiar with this craft?” Burnham asked. I glanced at her. “Few months into the war, Command was looking for craft that might be able to slip past Klingon sensors. These vessels are antiques— 20th century, decommissioned. Older metals, outdated tech, but high crew capacity.” “And the Botany Bay was used during the war?” Pike asked. I turned back to the hologram. “Only two ships were in good enough condition to shore up and get off of the ground. This was neither of them.” “Maybe it’s just being tracked for longevity, see how long it holds up,” Jett suggested. “No,” I shook my head a little, “No, Cornwell said colony when I came aboard…” I straightened up, folding my arms back across my chest, “We’re either gonna get radio silence or hear some really cryptic shit.” “That’s the spirit,” Durling clapped my shoulder, and I shot him a sidelong glance. “You realize this is gonna be a manual?” I asked him. “Ah-- No,” He laughed nervously, “No, you don’t have time for manual.” “Time or not— Look at the surface area on that thing,” I nodded to the hologram, “If this is an original sleeper class and launched back in the 1990s when they were originally being built, it’s possible that the integrity of the hull is going to be compromised. That means that the arms on the bot are going to be too rough for this task.” “What would you have to do to attach it manually?” Burnham asked.  “She’s gotta eject herself from her ship,” Jett told them. “How much does that differ from a ship-based tag?” Burnham asked. “... It’s different,” Eli tread carefully as he said so. I could feel him eyeing me critically, and I couldn’t help the way my jaw clenched as my stomach swooped with nerves. I hated manual tags the most. There were fewer safety nets: no tether, no easy way back to the ship if something went very seriously wrong--just me and a jet pack and a whole lotta hope. “Considering the fact that Command even authorized this mission in the first place, a manual attachment should be our last resort,” he added, “And who am I to argue with Command?” “Usually the second in line,” Jett answered. “Who’s first?” He frowned. There was a pause as I felt the two of them direct their gazes to me. “I resent that,” I muttered. “Which puts you in direct opposition with Commander Reno, which, given the longevity of her rank, technically puts you at odds with your superior--” Durling muttered. “O-kay.” “What are the steps that we need to get this off of the ground?” Pike asked, cutting over our bickering. I suddenly felt like a schoolkid called out for chatting in class. “Reno needs to look over craft, make sure it’s safe to fly,” Eli told him, “Your ship’s doctor needs to give our pilot a once-over as well, same reason.” I rolled my eyes a little. I was a little tired, more than a little jittery at the prospect of being behind the controls of an attack fighter again, but I had flown and been cleared for flight in worse condition. “Anything else?” Pike asked. “No,” Eli shook his head, “Barring any complications, we should be set to launch… round 1800 hours.” “If that’s the timeline, I’m gonna go get some sleep,” I straightened, “Thanks guys.” I turned away, heading for the door as I heard Durling pipe up: “Oh, and Commander?” “Yes,” I turned back, “Lieutenant Commander?” Durling took a moment, eyes sweeping down my body, then up again. “Where are we with that uniform?” I forced out a little laugh before nodding once, “I’m gonna leave now.”

-- I knew that I needed to get rest, but the prospect of a manual tag kept had set my mind racing. Instead I studied the schematics that I had available for a DY-100. And when I had determined the most appropriate position for the tag and that couldn’t quiet my mind any longer, I headed down to the shuttle bay. -- “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Jett almost scowled at the sight of me stepping onto craft. “Not tired,” I fibbed. Jett gave me a short look before lowering herself beside the control panel. “Make yourself useful, then, pass me the magna-spanner.” I crouched down beside Jett’s toolkit and found the requested implement before passing it to her. Once I had, I sat on the floor of the craft, leaning back against the wall and looking around the small cabin. It seemed so much more confining than I remembered— crammed with measuring instruments, controls, an emergency med pack. I directed my gaze toward the hatch in the ceiling, the one I’d be pushing myself out into open space from in just a short while. “So,” Jett spoke up, “What’s the plan after this?” I smiled at the question— just like old times. “Maybe get some more pie?” I offered. “And sugar crash later?” “Mhm. It’s the risk you take when you eat the hard stuff.” “And after that?” “...Dunno. Maybe something that actually utilizes what I went to the Academy to do. You know, speak and translate something other than Klingon, work with texts and languages we’re less familiar with…” “But we put our dreams away?” “But we put our dreams away.” Jett leaned back, tossing the magna-spanner at me. I caught hold of it, depositing it in the toolbox. She humphed, “Well, you’re morose as shit, but your reflexes seem to be in good order. Should be helpful, huh, Captain?” I frowned before I heard, “Yes, it should.” My head was turned from him, and I had been focused on other parts of the ship, but I hadn’t even heard him come aboard. I glanced up at Pike to find him standing with his hands tucked behind his back. He cleared his throat. “Doctor Pollard needs to examine you,” He nodded over his shoulder. “Right,” I pushed myself to stand before glancing down at Jett, “You’re set here?” “Please leave,” Was her smiling answer. I smiled a little myself, shaking my head before following Pike off of the craft. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the way he had to duck to ensure he didn’t hit his head on the way out. A brief wave of embarrassment crested over me when he glanced back at the sound. Pollard and Eli were in the shuttle bay, not too far off from the craft. The introductions were short as I shrugged out of my jacket and tossed it to Eli. He caught it without a question or hesitation, hardly missing a word as he regaled Dr. Pollard with the story of his part in the Battle of Xisad. She seemed to only be listening out of politeness, humming in response now and again. Knowing Eli, though, this chatter was meant to distract all of us from what I was about to do. Dr. Pollard’s hand skimmed over my left shoulder blade and I jolted a little, tensing as I sucked in a sharp breath.  “Alright?” She asked. I nodded as I heard her switch to the scanner on her tricorder. “Quite a lot of scar tissue,” She added. “Caught the wrong end of a bat’leth,” I explained flatly. “Is there pain?” “No.” “Does it hinder any of your movements?” “No.” When Pollard returned her hand to that same area, fingers carefully massaging the area to ensure the truth of my statement, I held carefully still. “...Is there a right end of bat’leth?” Eli asked, breaking the tense silence from our superiors. “The side without the pointed blade would’ve been preferable,” I told him, glancing in his direction. “You’re so particular,” He scoffed, but he was smiling. I shook my head a little, feeling the tension drain from me a little. “Well, apart from a slightly elevated heart rate, everything seems to be in order," Pollard reported from behind me. “That’s not a concern?” Pike asked. “According to the Commander’s prior medical records, there is typically some uptick in heart rate prior to these particular missions. She’s fit to fly," Pollard tucked her tricorder into its holder. I gave her a small nod of thanks. “And yet not outfitted to fly. Starfleet regulation 67: an officer acting in the interests of the Federation must be in uniform to command or commandeer any vessel,” Durling rattled off. I hummed, nodding, “An excellent point, Lieutenant Commander, but you seem to be forgetting Starfleet regulation 67-A: In the event of an emergency procedure, Starfleet personnel are permitted to eschew Federation vestments as the mission demands. Or have you forgotten who that rule had to be instituted for?” Durling shuffled closer, holding my jacket back out to me as he muttered, “Can’t recall.” “Well— that’s hilarious, because I can. And I’ll be in a Starfleet flight suit, I do believe that that counts as uniform.” “It does,” Pike piped up. “Exactly— thank you, Captain.” “Anytime, Commander.” “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get changed and run through the pre-flight checklist with Jett,” I added. I thanked Pollard again before I turned, heading back to the attack fighter. Anytime, Commander. Two words. Easy. Two words that set my heart racing faster than the prospect of a manual tag-and-run did. Tag list: @angels-pie​​ ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta​​  ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​​ ; @how-am-i-serpose-to-know​​ ; @onlyhereforthefandomandgiggles​​ ; @inmyowncorner​​  ; @tardis-23​​ ; @2manyfandoms-solittletime​ ; @paintballkid711​​ ; @katrynec​​​ ; @hypnobananaangelfish​​ ; @elen-aranel​​ ; @blueeyesatnight​​

[lofitowns]

changing seasons

“ YOU HAVE A PLACE IN MY HEART NO ONE ELSE COULD EVER HAVE “

pairing. izuku midoriya x gn! reader

wc. 3.7k

summary. in which you’ve loved him since you were twelve and he’s always felt the same way (fluffvember 3/15)

an. in the quote, it talks about him giving reader his hoodie. i changed it so he buys the reader one just like his as a way to be more inclusive to all body types :)

i had loved him since the age of 12. even at 12, i saw the stars in his eyes. even at 12, i knew that it was more than just a crush.

    Ever since you had known Midoriya, he was always talking about heroes. How they worked, what their goals were, how useful their quirks could be. Living powerless in a world of powerful people must be hard, especially when he wanted so desperately to be a hero.

    You felt bad for him, but that didn’t stop you from offering encouragement. He was so passionate that you couldn’t bring yourself to try and stop him.

    You met him on your first day at Aldera Junior High. You bumped into each other on your way to class, and you ended up asking him for directions. This led you to discover you had the same homeroom. What were the odds?

    He had stars in his eyes. They shined brighter than anything you had ever seen before, and you never wanted to see them go out. Whenever he was sad, you were the first person there to bring him back up. He tried so hard to be nice to everyone that you felt it was your duty to support him.

    You were attached at the hip. Never one without the other.

    Describing the feelings in your stomach when you saw him was difficult. It felt like you were going to be sick, but not in a bad way. Your chest always felt warm, and your hands sometimes grew clammy.

    When you expressed these symptoms to your mother, she simply laughed and told you it was “puppy love”.

    Maybe she was right.

at the age of 13, he kissed me for the first time. and it was beautiful. awkward, shy, not perfect, but beautiful.

    After a year of being friends, you and Midoriya knew each other considerably well. You trusted him, and he trusted you. You could tell each other anything and everything.

    But the topic of dating and relationships never came up. Maybe it was because you still felt like kids or simply because you were too shy. But it felt like everyone else was talking about it.

    Your other friends began to tell you about what their first kiss was like, whether it was good or bad, if they wanted to do it again.

    This caused you to become curious. What did kissing feel like? Sure, you’d kissed people in your family before, but that wasn’t the same. And there was only one person you could think of that you wanted to kiss.

    “Hey, Midoriya?” You were sitting on opposite sides of his bed, just hanging out after finishing your homework. This was a common occurrence. You would walk to his apartment after school to do your work, and you almost always stayed for dinner. His mom was one of the sweetest ladies you knew and always welcomed you to stay.

    He turned his head towards you, “Yeah?”

    “Have you kissed anyone?”

    Your question seemed to shock him. His back straightened, and his eyes went wide. “W-Why do you ask?” His face turned a tomato shade of red, causing you to laugh.

    “Well, I feel like everyone’s been talking about their first kisses. I still haven’t had mine yet, so I was just... Wondering.”

    The boy cleared his throat, shifting in his seat nervously. “I haven’t had mine either.”

    “Why don’t we just do it?”

    A squeak pushed past his lips, “D-Do it? Together?”

    You laughed again, “Come on, it’s not that big of a deal. We can say we’ve had our first kiss!”

    He seemed hesitant, green pupils flicking back and forth but never settling on you. He clenched and unclenched his fists before slowly nodding.

    “Yeah, okay. Why not?”

    You grinned at him, moving closer to his side of the bed. It did feel a little like you were being watched with all his All Might figurines and posters hung around you.

    Your cheeks began to feel warm, and you felt that sick feeling in your stomach once again. You heard someone refer to them as butterflies, so now that’s what you saw them as.

    They flapped their wings, tickling your sides. Sometimes they hammered, trying to break their way out of your ribs. You never felt them around anyone but Midoriya.

    He sat still as a statue, waiting on you to make the first move. You leaned in, placing your hands on the bed next to either side of his legs. All your movements were hesitant; the last thing you wanted was to scare the flustered boy.

    When your lips met his for the first time, you felt light. It was nothing like you had ever felt before. Your lips crashed together with noses bumping and foreheads knocking. It would have hurt if not for the euphoric feeling in your chest.

    You pulled away, letting out a small breath. Your eyes gazed back into his, and at that moment, you knew something changed.

    Before your lips could meet again, his mom knocked on the door.

    “Dinners ready you two!”

    The sudden commotion broke the pair of you apart. You fell back, knocking your papers to the ground.

    “Oh! (y/n)! Are you okay? I’m sorry,” Midoriya exclaimed, reaching forward to help you sit up. You shook your head with a smile on your face, “I’m fine. I promise.”

    He gave you a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. It seemed like he didn’t know what else to say.

    You took his outstretched hand in yours and pulled him off the bed. “Come on. It’s time for dinner.”

at the age of 14, he asked me out. he didn’t love me yet, but he liked me, and we were a team.

    You didn’t talk about that night again, but things were different.

    You sat closer together, and hugs began to last longer. He had become increasingly flustered around you and vise versa. It was never brought up though; it seemed easier that way. Neither of you wanted to confront these new emotions and lose your best friend.

    It wasn’t until you had to pick what high schools you were applying for that you felt a tug to tell him. You both applied to UA High School but weren’t optimistic about the prospects. Not with Bakugo claiming that he would be the only student from this school to go there and become the number one hero.

    You knew it was farfetched for Midoriya to be accepted. He didn’t have a quirk, but maybe, just maybe, he could get in through some other circumstances.

    As entrance exams grew nearer, you noticed something different about your friend. He had begun working out for one. And he had been spending more time by himself. You knew it could be one of two things.

    It could have been because of the incident with the slime villain. After that day, something had changed within him. Bakugo had even been taking it easier on him, which you thought was strange.

    Or maybe he was trying to train for the entrance exam. Even if it was that, you had said you would train together. He was supposed to help you gain better control over your quirk since he seemed to know more about it than you. He had notebooks filled with information on it.

    He seemed tired and strained, and you knew he had to be working himself too hard. But whenever you tried to mention it, he would get flustered and backtrack. It was getting a little bit annoying.

    On the day of the UA entrance exam, you hadn’t even walked together. He said he was getting in a bit of last-minute training and couldn’t walk you. That made your heart sink more than it likely should have. You did see him before it started but weren’t able to talk to him before Present Mic interrupted.

    It wasn’t until after that you finally saw him. Well, more like you heard about him. Since he wasn’t in your group, you ended up staying behind to look for him. What you weren’t expecting to hear was how “some green-haired guy busted his body up with his quirk”.

    There was no way that was Midoriya, right? He didn’t even have a quirk. There had to be plenty of other green haired boys at the exam. But there was a nagging in your gut that told you something was wrong.

    Then, you saw him limping. It wasn’t that noticeable, but after knowing him for so long, you could tell something was off. You walked him home, but the whole time neither of you spoke. You didn’t know how to bring up what you had heard, and he just looked... Sad.

    He invited you inside, and you agreed because you knew that the two of you needed some time to talk.

    You sat across from each other at his dining room table. You were chewing at your bottom lip as you tried to figure out what to say to him.

    “So, do you want to talk about it?”

    Midoriya’s eyes stared into yours, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head.

    “I’m sorry for not telling you. I have a quirk now, which is great, but I didn’t defeat any of the robots in the exam, so I don’t think I got any points. And I’ve been ignoring you when I shouldn’t have. I’m so sor-” You cut his rambling off by placing your hand on top of his.

    “It’s okay, just calm down.”

    He took a deep breath before speaking again, “I missed you.”

    You sent him a gentle smile, “I missed you too.”

    This time when he tried to explain things, he was more level headed. Even though he tried to get you to think he was telling you everything, you could see he was hiding something. But you didn’t want to push him, so you didn’t mention it.

    And just like that, things were back to normal. He was still sulky, but you were talking again, and you were happy.

    The week it took to get your letter from school went faster than you thought it would. When your mom handed you the letter with your name on it, you felt your stomach churn with unease.

    It seemed like that was all for nothing because when the holograph of All Might popped up, he excitedly shouted that you had made it in. Your first instinct was to call Midoriya, but right as you picked up the phone, there was a knock at your front door.

    Right when you pulled it open, the green-haired boy burst in and tackled you in a hug. He was panting and sticky with sweat, but you wrapped your arms around him just as tightly.

    “I made it in,” He whispered against your shoulder. You nearly gasped in disbelief as you told him the same.

    When he pulled back, you could see tears swimming in his eyes. He looked so, so happy. An overpowering feeling of emotion filled your body when you surged forward and pressed your lips against his. Just like you had done the year prior while sitting in his bedroom.

    His cheeks went red, but he responded instantly, resting a hand on your cheek. Again, the kiss was short, but it took your breath away.

    The two of you looked at each other for a few moments before bursting out in a fit of laughter. He wrapped his arms around you tighter and brought you close.

    “Would you want to go out this weekend?” He asked, voice coming out in stutters. You could feel the palms of his hands moisten, and you knew he was nervous. After a year of not mentioning these subtle changes, now seemed as good a time as any to do something about it.

at the age of 15, he gave me his favorite sweatshirt. and then i knew that boy loved me because he practically lived in that sweatshirt. i wore it almost every day.

    Everyone knew about Midoriya’s fascination with All Might. His whole dorm was filled to the brim with merchandise. Not to mention the pages upon pages he had written about him in his journal.

    Which is why it surprised you when he showed up at your door one day clutching a hoodie. It looked like his favorite, the one he had gotten through a special fan club event. You stared at the boy in confusion.

    “Izuku?”

    “Hi! Um, hi!” His voice sounded a little shaky.

    You sent him a patient smile, “Do you want to come in?”

    He nodded after a few seconds of thought and stepped into your dorm. You watched him, confused as to why he had suddenly gotten so shy. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, so you waited for him to speak.

    “I was, um... I was talking to Uraraka, and she said that... She said that couples get matching clothes. So I was just wondering if you would want to wear this? I have the same one, and it’s my favorite, so I wanted to see you in it. I got it a little big, so you can feel like you’re wearing mine or something! Only if you want to though!” He was mumbling again.

    A small smile graced your lips. You moved closer to him, setting a hand on his shoulder. His words stopped abruptly, mouth hanging open as your eyes met. The look on his face immediately softened, closing his mouth and returning your smile.

    You took the sweatshirt out of his hands and pulled it over your head. It was warm, and it smelled like him. Had he put it on before bringing it over? The thought made the back of your neck heat up, and your heart flutter.

    Turning your gaze to him, you raised your arms before saying, “So, how do I look?”

    You could see his face becoming gradually redder, he even reached up to cover it. A nervous chuckle left his lips as he looked you up and down.

    “Amazing.”

    The heat from your neck spread to your cheeks. You looked down while shaking your head and laughing, “Thanks, Izu.”

    The boy wrapped his arms around you tightly, nuzzling his nose into your neck. A breathy chuckle left his lips as you reached a hand up to pet his hair.

    “Come on, let’s watch that new show you wanted to check out!”

at the age of 16, he told me he loved me. he didn’t make a big deal out of it, just told me he loved me. i told him i loved him back.

    You dropped onto your bed on your stomach, groaning into your pillow. You heard chuckling behind you as Midoriya sat next to you. He began to run a hand up and down your back. His fingertips lightly tapped your skin, beginning to trace patterns.

    “There’s always the next one.”

    You had just gotten your most recent exam results back. You didn’t completely fail, but you thought you would have gotten a better score. All the time you had spent studying felt wasted. Maybe you were being overdramatic, but it was still frustrating.

    “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You sighed before flipping over on to your back. Your eyes met his, and he smiled at you. God, his smile.

    When you had first met the boy, he had been chronically insecure. He was timid and was scared to speak up for himself. But he had grown a lot since then. You felt lucky that you had been around to witness it.

    You reached your arms out, and he instinctively fell into you. A content smile made it’s way to your lips as you ruffled his hair with your nose.

    You loved moments like this. Time where it was just the two of you with no homework to stress over or training to rush to. No villains threatening your lives. You could just lay in each other’s arms.

    Midoriya slowly began to tangle his legs with yours to pull you closer to him. His breath fanned over your neck, pressing a soft kiss to your skin. You threaded your fingers through his hair, rubbing gentle circles on his scalp.

    “(y/n)...” He whispered your name in an attempt to get your attention. You hummed in response.

    “I love you.”

    His words were simple, nonchalant. He kept his arms wrapped around you and his face in your neck. But you thought you could feel his cheeks getting hotter.

    Your heart was beating erratically against your chest, but you tried to play it off. Your breath had been knocked out of you, and heat began to creep onto your cheeks. You didn’t know he was freaking out as well, if not more than you.

    “I love you too.”

    at age 17, he gave me a ring. not a wedding ring, but a promise ring. with that ring, he told me that he promised to love me forever.

    Birthdays with class 1-A were always celebrated to the fullest. Even for the people that didn’t like excessive attention, the day always ended with them feeling special.

    On the day of your 17th birthday, you already knew what to expect. You’d wake up to Kaminari and Ashido pounding on your door, yelling celebrations. Breakfast would be your favorite, and you’d get a mass of happy birthdays. The rest of the day would be mostly normal up until everyone was back in the dorms. Then, you would be handed present after present from each of your classmates. Even the most reluctant ones (Bakugo) would get you something small. The three years you had all been together made you close.

    The night began to wind down after a while, but it was always fun to hang out with your friends. Everyone in class was so unique and meshed so well together. It made you so happy that you were able to be apart of a class like this.

    Ashido and Kaminari seemed to notice something off though. Throughout the whole night, they hadn’t seen your boyfriend give you a gift. Now that couldn’t happen! Not under their watch. They approached you when you were finally left alone on one of the couches.

    “Why hasn’t he given you anything?” The girl questioned as the pair slid into the seats on either side of you. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and her cheeks were puffed out.

    “Oh, well, I told him he didn’t need to get me anything,” You responded, looking between the two.

    Kaminari narrowed his eyebrows, “But he’s your boyfriend. He should still get you something. And it’s Midoriya we’re talking about.”

    You shrugged, “It’s okay. It doesn’t bother me.”

    And that seemed to be the end of it.

    That was until you made it back to your room that night. You had changed out of your day clothes and into your pajamas and began to get ready for bed.

    The knock on your door surprised you. When you went to answer it, your green-haired boyfriend stood in front of you with his hands behind his back.

    “Hey! You wanna come in?”

    He nodded, but his body language told you he was nervous. He was chewing his bottom lip, and it almost looked like he was shaking.

    The boy managed to make it to your bed, sitting down with his hands now in his lap. You stood in front of him, giving him a patient smile.

    “What’s wrong, baby?”

    Midoriya took a deep breath, looking between your eyes and his lap. Finally, he raised his hands. Resting in them was a small plastic pouch.

    You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked between the boy and the small item. You had no idea what it was or why he was so nervous to give it to you.

    He pulled the two ends apart and took your hand in his. He flipped it so your palm was facing upwards and emptied the contents there.

    There sat a green ring pop.

    Your eyes widened, and your heart jumped to your throat. No words came to mind; none of them sounded right.

    “I know we can’t get married yet... But you’ve been apart of my life for so long, and I couldn’t imagine it without you. This is just a placeholder,” His words hit your heart in a way that caused your eyes to tear up.

    He must have taken your lack of words as a rejection because he started sputtering out apologies. His hand reached out to take the ring back.

    “Oh! I’m sorry, was this a bad idea? You said you didn’t want me spending any money, but I wanted to get you something. I wanted to get you a real promise ring, but I couldn’t afford one... I’m sorry, you don’t have to take it-“

    You cut him off by leaning down and smashing your lips against his. You cupped his face with one hand, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone. When you parted, you slipped the ring onto your finger, looking down at it and laughing.

    His eyes were still closed, as if he thought when he opened them, you’d reject him. But how could you do that after three years of dating him?

    “Izu, open your eyes.”

    You made your voice as soft as possible, this time cupping his face with both hands. His wide green eyes met yours, and in moments they became glassy.

    “I love you so, so much (y/n),” He told you, nuzzling his nose into your palm.

    “I love you so, so much Izuku.”

    Your lips locked once more, his tears mixing in and giving you a taste of salt. He pulled you down onto your bed so you didn’t have to continue standing.

    The pair of you laid on your backs, just staring up at the ceiling. You lifted your left hand in the air and stared at the green candy. Another laugh fell from your lips as you looked over at him. Now that his nerves had passed, he began laughing too.

    “Was it a stupid idea?” He questioned, rubbing the back of his neck. You quickly shook your head, “No, of course not. It was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

    You looked at each other for a few moments before he grinned brightly at you. And there they were again, those butterflies you had felt so many years ago. And now you knew just how much you loved him.

    now we’re 18, and i have no idea what will happen next, but i know that we have plenty of life left and i’m looking forward to it.

     thank you for reading :) have a good day!

[datleggy]

I need both of your “surprise Buck was/is pregnant with Eddie’s baby and they find out because Chris finds him” anons to finish their drabbles. I need the Buddie confrontation scene with all the angst and betrayal from both sides. (Meanwhile Chris happily keeps his baby brother occupied and whispers about how he’s gonna parent trap their dads.) Please and thank you.

he anon sent more and here it is! it's wonderful, pls read!! <3

ANON: As the anon who your last ask was talking about might I just say I am sobbiiiinnnnnggggggg 😭😭😭 that was so good omg but ALSO now I have an addition to my earlier blurb 👀👀👀

Eddie is frantic, from the moment Buck called to now. Let's rewind a bit though, for context.

After running into Buck in Austin, they did meet up, without Chris, to talk. Buck had Eddie meet him at his new fire house, which. Hurt? It hurt, in a weird way that Eddie couldn't quite place at first, but he realizes now what he was feeling; jealousy that Buck has moved on and seems so comfortable here, longing for Buck to return to them, to the 118 (if he's being honest though, it's him he wants Buck to return to more than anything, but that's hardly fair after everything), regret that he treated Buck so poorly that the other man not only felt he couldn't tell him about the baby, but that he felt he had to move states.

Eddie met him there regardless, though, because ultimately it was Buck's choice. Eddie was grateful Buck chose to talk to him at all, so he wasn't going to argue over the chosen venue.

They met up, and they talked, and Buck confirmed that the baby he was carrying was Eddie's. He was in shock at the confession, upset for the first few moments, even. And it showed on his face, because the next thing Eddie knew, Buck was backing away from him, arms crossed over his stomach and tears running down his face, begging Eddie not to try and take his baby from him.

"I know I shouldn't have ke-kept this from y-you, but Eddie pl-please! He's all I h-ha-have left, I won't make it if you t-take h-him!" Eddie was shocked, and horrified at Buck's words. It took him a few minutes to calm him down, and weeks of slowly increased communication between the two of them (and Christopher, of course) before Eddie was able to convince Buck that he wasn't planning on trying to gain custody of the baby. He had explained that, yes, he wanted to be in their son's life, wanted Chris to be in his brother's life, but he wouldn't do anything to hurt Buck anymore then he already has.

It took almost the remainder of the pregnancy, but they were finally close to where they had been before everything went to shit. Not that they were lovers again, Eddie doesn't think either of them are ready for that, and Buck agrees, but they were on the fast track to becoming best friends again.

So of course he's the first person Buck calls when he goes into labor.

"I'm sorry, you're what?"

"In labor," Buck says sheepishly over the phone. "Or at least, I think I am? I mean, I'm three days overdue so I doubt these are practice contractions, but I guess there's always the possibility, and oh my god if I called you at 3 in the morning because of practice contractions, Eddie, I am so sorry oh god--" he can hear Buck working himself into a panic attack, so he cuts in.

"Hey hey, none of that. Even if these are Braxton Hicks or whatever they're called, I'm glad you called me. We agreed we would be in this together, right?" There's a pause on the other line before Buck speaks.

"Yeah. Together."

Eddie smiles at the soft tone of Buck's voice, and he can picture him perfectly in his mind's eye as though he were there in front of Eddie. Sitting at the end of his bed, both hands framing his belly (which has gotten big since the first time they ran into each other three months ago, the doctors estimating that the baby is somewhere between 8 and 9 pounds, which Buck was Not Pleased to hear, and blames Eddie for, especially when he found out that Chris was nearly 8 pounds when he had been born), and tears in his eyes despite the smile on his face at the prospect of meeting their baby soon.

Eddie takes a deep breath to steady his own racing heart and asks "So, what do you want to do?"

"Huh?"

Eddie can't help the breathless laugh that leaves him, every passing moment feeling more and more surreal as he realizes that /this is happening/. He's going to be a father for a second time, he and Buck are having a baby together and they're going to meet him soon.

"Do you want me with you, Buck? Because I can leave now, fly down there and be with you when he's born. Or we can stay on the phone, or you can FaceTime me. Whatever you wanna do, babe." The endearment leaves his mouth before he can stop it, but he doesn't try to back track.

"I--" Buck cuts himself off with a cry, more surprised then in pain, but Eddie still hates the sound. He starts to wonder, if Buck wants him there, will Eddie even be able to face seeing him in that amount of pain? He'll do it, of course he will, he would do anything for Buck and their boys, but god it might just break him. This isn't about Eddie, though.

"Breathe, baby. Deep breaths, just like in those classes TK took you to." Everytime he and Buck talk, the other man has stories either related to the baby, or related to his new family. Sometimes even both, like when he told Eddie about the Lamaze classes Buck's friend TK took him to, highly recommended from when TK went himself with his boyfriend Carlos leading up to their son being born. Eddie couldn't help but feel that ugly, burning jealousy, but he tried to sound as happy as possible over the phone. Buck wouldn't appreciate the jealousy, since Eddie lost out on what they could have been thanks to his own anger and mistreatment of Buck.

A few moments pass before Buck comes back on. "That hurt," he says with a small, pained laugh. Eddie can't tell if he wants to cry, punch something, or both, but he tamps those feelings down.

"I know, I know. But you've got this, Buck. You're gonna kick labor's ass, right?"

"Right," Buck responds weakly.

"Damn right, right. You're so strong, Buck. There isn't anything you can't do, and nothing you won't do for your kids. You've got this." He hears Buck take a deep breath, steeling himself.

"Yeah... yeah! I've got this. I've got this!" That golden retriever enthusiasm is back in full force, and Eddie grins.

Buck announces that he's going to start packing some stuff and getting his things together, so Eddie will be in speaker phone. For the next few minutes, Eddie listens to Buck ramble off random facts about babies and labor between verbalizing his hospital bag checklist. He hums in the appropriate places to show he's listening, asks clarifying questions so Buck knows Eddie isn't bored or just humoring him. Before too long, Eddie can tell that Buck has picked the phone back up, removing it from speaker phone.

"Hey, Eds?" His voice is quieter, more subdued then it has been for most of their time in the phone.

"Yeah, Buck?" His own voice is soft, curious but undemanding.

"I-- you said, earlier, that you would-would come down, if that's what I wanted? Like, to be here when the baby is born." Eddie feels his heart start to race in his chest, not sure if he's eager to hear Buck's decision or dreading it.

"I did," he confirms anyway, wanting Buck's comfort more than anything else.

"... Is that offer still on the table? You coming down here, I mean." Eddie can feel his breath catch in his chest, and he realizes that, yeah, he was eager to know what Buck wanted him to do. He feels like jumping into the air and cheering, knowing Buck wants him by his side as he delivers their baby boy into the world.

"I can leave in ten minutes, and be with you in four, five hours at the most." His response is almost immediate, and Buck laughs on the other end of the line. "Is that what you want, Buck? Me to be there, with you?" Eddie hears a sniffle and he knows Buck is in the verge of crying.

"I-- is that alright? I don't-- I can't do this alone, Eddie. I know I have everyone from the 126 here, and all of them would sit with me through this in a heartbeat, but... I need it to be you that's here with me. I want you to be here when our son is born, want you to cut the cord, be one of the first to hold him, all of it. I... I need /you/." And how could Eddie ever say no to that?

"Give me a few minutes to pack a bag and make some calls, okay? I'll call you right back, and before you know it, I'll be right beside you, holding your hand and letting you break as many fingers as you want." Buck gives a wet chuckle and agrees, but both men have a hard time saying goodbye, even if it will only be for a few minutes.

"I'll see you soon, Buck, okay? I swear."

"Yeah, I know you will, I know. I'm just nervous, is all. Having you here, even just over the phone, it helps. So much, Eddie." He knows what he means. Hearing Buck's cheerful voice after a long day never fails to make Eddie feel better, make him feel that no matter what, everything will be alright. He can only imagine how much better things will feel for the both of them once they can actually see each other, touch each other.

"I know exactly what you mean. I'll be there soon, okay? I'll call you back in a second and you can tell me more statistics about babies born in cars, or whatever." Buck snorts a laugh and Eddie smiles at the sound.

"I swear to God if you jinx this and I end up giving birth on the highway, I will kill you." They laugh together, but Eddie knows now that he has to get things in order if he wants to be with Buck ASAP. Neither man wants to say goodbye.

"I'll be with you soon, Evan."

"Yeah, okay. Eddie, I-I..." Eddie waits patiently for whatever Buck was going to say. His heart hammers in his chest.

"... Be safe, Eddie." He can't help the bitter feeling of disappointment that floods through him, but he returns the sentiment, regardless.

They hang up, and for a moment, Eddie simply sits on his bed, head in his hands. All he wanted to do as they said their goodbyes was to tell Buck that he loved him. He doesn't feel like he's earned the right to say that to him yet, though. He has to earn it.

With that in mind, he starts packing a bag, calling Hen to see if she and Karen would be able to babysit Chris while Eddie is in Texas.

Dhdhjajsiejsj so sorry about that again, hope you enjoy (and thanks again to that person who sent that other ask, bc that was an amazing blurb they sent 😌) 😭😭😭

[shoichee]

Star-crossed

[Midorima x Reader]

[Hanahaki!au]

Word Count: 8840

Warning: attempted angst, death

Note: This is my first time writing angst, oh dear. Even after years of bawling over other people’s works, I still have no solid idea on how to create heart-wrenching writing. Here goes though.

»»—————　☼　—————««

“I’m really excited!”

“Ne, ne, I honestly can’t wait to bloom…”

“What kind of flowers would my body grow do you think?...”

You only drone out the incessant bustlings of chattering from your classmates as special health education class ended as you sat there patiently waiting for the next teacher to walk into class to start the next period.

Next is… ah, math…

You sigh, heaving out the bulky textbook out of your bag and drop it on the desk with a thump, making a few students flinch at the near proximity. You lay your elbow on the hardcover, allowing your thoughts to drift away as your fingers gently thrum. This teacher, you knew, was the type to start class unceremoniously late.

It was boring. Everyone already knew about the stage of blooming. It had been incanted incessantly to you by adults around you ever since grade school. Yet, Shūtōku high was one of the many high schools that still insisted in “teaching” the basic knowledge of what’s to come soon.

Maybe these classes don’t teach, but rather, serve as a reminder of the inevitable that all growing teenagers will face sooner or later: blooming.

Some people have already experienced it as soon as they graduated out of middle school; they were called the “early bloomers.” That was one of your closer friends.

So what’s it like? you once asked, turning to your new friend at the time. You said you bloomed…

And you recall her nodding her head fervently.

Yeah! she eagerly replied. While it may be painful at first, it went away after a few weeks for me… it’s not so different like getting a period, you know?... I heard it’s different for everyone, but for me, my heart thumped super loudly! And I get these tingly sensations!...

… It’s just like a sign that you’ve become totally mature!

A frantic clang from the doorway interrupts your train of thought as you eye the expectant teacher, completely out of breath as he tries to arrive on time but completely failing miserably.

Unlike in special health ed, most of the students groan at the thought of continuing the onslaught of derivative lessons. You don’t really care either way and promptly open your textbook to the appropriate page.

As class slowly ticks by, your mind wanders off from the subject of class again, drifting to the constant destination of your recent curiosity of bloomings.

You are what everyone calls a “late bloomer.”

You aren’t the only late bloomer, obviously, but it does make you quite anxious at the fact of potentially being the “last one” in your class, or perhaps out of the entire school.

No one wants to really hang out with a late bloomer; they were often stereotyped as “immature” or “abnormal.” After all, this was a normal stage of life, a sign of growing up out of childhood. No one wants to hang around with someone seen as a “kid.”

A soft cough pulls you from your daydreaming as you subtly glance at the desk to your left. It was a classmate of yours, as well as an acquaintance.

“Hey,” you whisper, trying to not bring attention to yourself. “... Are you okay?”

She gives a quiet clearing of her throat before she nods, hand still pressed against her lips. She then shakes her head side to side, her long hair swaying slightly with the motion.

“Ah, don’t worry about me getting sick,” you quietly reassure. “But you should really go to the nurse’s after. Have you tried tying your hair up? I heard doing so can help cool off and keep a clearer head…”

She cautiously drops her hand back to her desk before giving you a small, reassuring smile.

“Thank you, (l/n-san). I’ll be fine.”

“(l/n).”

“Yes!” You stand up from your desk the moment the teacher calls on you, relieved at the fact that he didn’t seem to notice your hushed conversation.

“Could you please come up to the board to solve this problem…?”

---------

Lunch time is always the time you come out of class to search for Takao. As you walk briskly in the hallways, you try to avoid staring at everyone’s floral tattoos located at the side of their necks, imprinted underneath the canopies of their jaws. Each individual’s flower mark showcased what their bodies grew during their stages of blooming.

And each plant was unique to the individual. They could represent their personality, their prospective future, what their future soulmate would be like… anything goes, and every student constantly gossips about what the other’s marks would exactly mean.

You, markless, walk faster, hoping that no one would spot you and flit their eyes to your blank neck… although everyone at school already knows those who have still yet to bloom.

You envy them.

“(y/n)-chan!!” Takao waves you over when you enter the cafeteria. “Over here!”

You briefly scan the tables before you spot him, begrudgingly noticing his pink hyacinth at the crook of his neck, even though you’re happy for him that he passed that stage of his life.

Pink hyacinths… they symbolized playfulness.

You would know; not only did special health classes painstakingly educate students since young for the anticipation of blooming, you took the extra effort of researching many more flowers on your own time, patiently abiding your time to have a striking plant engraved onto you one day.

As you carry your tray and slide into your seat, you finally notice a grumbling greenhead besides Takao.

“Shin-chan! So you do care about having a flower mark after all, eh?”

That’s right, huh. Midorima, too, was markless.

Just like you.

“Your assumptions are getting ridiculous, Takao.”

“Seriously? You expect me to believe that when your eyes always land on people’s necks when you talk to them—pfffft—” He breaks out into guffaws as he clutches his stomach helplessly, which cued Midorima into reaching for the point-guard in an attempt to strangle him.

Pink hyacinths are perfect for someone like Takao. You couldn’t help but let a smile slip from your lips.

“Whoaa!!” Takao peers over to you, ignoring his predicament of being restrained to death by Midorima. “(y/n)-chan! You should smile more!—ow!”

“Worry about yourself first,” he scowls, before tentatively letting him go with a defeated sigh. He opts to hold his lucky charm for the day (a terracotta pot).

“Shintarou-san,” you call out to him, after several minutes of comfortable silence as all three of you ate your lunches. “What do you think your flower would be?”

“Man proposes, God disposes. As long as I always provide everything to maximize my opportunities and follow the order of fate, I do not need to worry about such baseless things.”

You mildly snicker at his typical response. “Is that so, horoscope man.”

“Why waste time worrying about something that’s not in your hands?” He pushes up his glasses with his taped hand. “You should be focusing on what you can do as of now, nanodayo.” When he finishes, he looks up from his lunch to glance at you, noticing your widened eyes.

“Ah…” you stare at him at a loss for words, caught off guard at the fact that he sounded… almost concerned for you. “I’ll keep it in mind, Shintarou.”

“There’s no way that’s our Shin-chan!” Takao rushes to try to feel Midorima’s forehead. “That’s way too good of an advice to be you—”

“Shut up—get off of me—!”

As the two basketball players struggle in each other’s vice grips, they fail to notice the ruddy color having its own moment of blooming onto your cheeks.

---------

“... and what this means, class, is that having your first love is a monumental sign of blooming. That being said, having to experience love for the first time does not automatically guarantee blooming. This natural phenomena is still being studied by scientists around the world. What’s also interesting is that we humans are the only ones with this unique…”

More basic information? You yawn, covering your mouth in hopes no one notices, but as you look around you, your classmates are too engrossed in the lecture to even pay attention to anything else.

Of course they’d pay attention. It’s a special event that will happen to everyone at some point; even though you were sure they all already knew the information to heart, you knew they would take any opportunity to learn more about themselves in any way. You don’t blame them, however. You’re curious about your own body’s idiosyncrasies of not blooming yet.

“... Lies.” You snap your head to the source of the quiet remark to see your classmate on your left, arms crossed on the desk with a minimal scowl on her face.

Noticing your piercing stare, she turns to you before widening her eyes at realizing that she was heard. She abruptly turns her face to the front of the class, trying to pass off the act of suddenly paying attention to the teacher.

You turn your head to face the front as well but you still glance to your left from time to time.

“Are you feeling better?...” you hesitantly whisper.

Not expecting you to show concern, she jumps in her seat before eyeing you warily. As soon as she decides that you were merely concerned, she gives a polite nod and a smile.

“It was just a little flu I caught… Thank you for worrying about me. I’m just a sickly person but I thankfully recover very quickly.”

And with that, she ends the conversation with you to finally genuinely pay attention for the rest of class.

You try to do the same, but you feel knots of lead settling in your stomach.

… Lies?

What was that about?

---------

“(y/n)-chan! Wanna come and watch our practices today?”

You were stopped in the hallways by a grinning Takao, with a trailing Midorima not too far behind with a bundle of faux peacock feathers.

You’re not too sure if you should be concerned with a clinging Takao on your arm and attempting to kidnap you or a stoic Midorima displaying around a ridiculous souvenir.

“Huh? W-why?”

“You’re obviously free right now, obviously.”

“That doesn’t make sense—wah!”

Before you can put any further word in, Takao is dragging you to the gym, with an exasperated Midorima being figuratively pulled along with you two as well.

“Here we are, (y/n)-chan!” Takao ushers you beyond the gym doors and indicates the bleachers for you to sit and watch.

“You really think I’m going along with all of this, Kazu?”

“I know you better than anyone.”

“No you don’t,” you frown, turning away from him with a huff.

“Takao.”

Takao immediately gulps at the call of his name from Midorima and both you and him turn around to see a particularly hostile green-haired person.

“Sorry, sorry! Please don’t hit me!” And Takao races to the lockers in an attempt to escape from his fury.

Midorima relaxes his stance after he leaves and turns to you.

“Thanks, Shintarou.”

“I wasn’t doing it for you,” he says, adjusting his glasses. “He was just being more troublesome than usual.” But the way he clumsily handled his frames told a different story to you.

You laugh at him. “If you insist, Shintarou-san.”

“R-right…”

“Hey! Shin-chan!” Takao yells from the opposite side of the gym. Get over here! Captain is coming!”

At the captain being mentioned, Midorima straightens up before jogging over to warm up.

You suppose you can watch their practice this evening.

---------

You’ve never seen anyone handle a basketball like that.

What the hell? His range was damn near impossible.

You were thankful that you allowed Takao to drag you over to the gym to watch. Otherwise, you would’ve never learned about this side of Midorima.

Wait… Midorima?

No, you shake your head. It’s only because it was a lot more interesting than all of your classes, that’s all.

You repeat it to yourself like a mantra, yet every time your eyes land on Midorima’s shooting form, your mind goes blank.

You were absolutely captivated… not that you would ever admit it though.

---------

“... scientists are still doing social experiments on the blooming stage of humans. You may be wondering, if it’s been a part of societies for thousands of years, why are we studying it? Well, during old times, they were often explained using myths and folk stories…”

It really sucked that special health ed class was a mandatory requirement for all first-years. All of this was old news to you still.

“... new recent findings came out that answered the everlong question of whether the bloomings can actually be dangerous for humans, and how dangerous.”

Oh? That was new. But you suppose there was no way they’d tell little kids about the possibilities and risks with bloomings.

“Obviously, we know it can be fatal, just like pregnancies going awry and such. While we don’t know the exact mortality rate, researchers are trying to develop new medicines to curb away the potential amount of deaths associated with bloomings. But other scholars suggest not to drain precious resources into medicine development when they can use it for more pressing medical issues, and I know many of you believe this as well. Their take on this issue is that ‘blooming is something that should not be tampered with and the success of bloomings rely solely on the individual’s abilities and willpower to come of age since it’s unique to every person’...”

Unique… He was right. Even the signs and symptoms of a blooming vary greatly for everyone. The only thing everyone had in common was that their bodies grew plants. Even the way plants grow vary from person to person. That’s what they taught since the very beginning.

“... since blooming is unique to every individual, creating a standard medicine and procedure for all would be impossible, or at the very least inaccessible due to high expenses in accommodating medicine for every patient.”

Most of the students in the room nod in fervent agreement, and pretty soon, the room was filled with chattering at the new information they took in.

You glance to your classmate on your left again but you were surprised to see that her seat was empty.

Was she not here from the start?

You sigh and chide yourself for not noticing at the beginning of homeroom, but quickly dismiss the casual thought for more immediate problems like your upcoming exam for chemistry in a few periods.

Ah, oh well.

---------

“If you’re looking for Takao, forget it. He’s in detention for causing a disruption for one of the teachers last period.”

“Sh-shintarou?!” You whirl around to find Midorima alone with his bear plush. “You’re not at practice?”

“We practice tomorrow.”

“I see,” you say, not knowing how to continue the conversation from here.

“I guess I’ll be going home early then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As you try to walk past Midorima, he sidesteps quickly to block your pathway, and you walk right into him before stepping back out of embarrassment.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry—!”

“(y/n).” He averts his eyes while sliding up his glasses. “You’re walking home alone?”

Still in a state of flusters, you promptly nod your head as you stare down at your shoes.

“Come. We better get going before it gets too late. Cancers will have unlucky encounters after dusk.” Midorima jerks his head to the direction of the exit, motioning for you to follow before he turns on his heel and walks away.

“Sh-shintarou?”

“I-it’ll only be… troublesome if something were to happen.” He stops walking and looks back at you. “What are you waiting for? Hurry up.”

“R-right. Coming!”

---------

It wasn’t completely unexpected that the walk home would have an awkward atmosphere between the two of you. Usually, Takao would be the social “buffer” and the proxy between you two, but now that he was out of the picture, neither of you knew how to strike up a casual conversation. That was more of Takao’s specialty.

“... I’ve thought about what you said.” At his voice, you turn to look up at his contemplative face. You give him an inquisitive look to encourage him to continue his thought. “... Although I’m not so certain what kind of plant I would grow. Not even the Oha Asa could predict it.”

“Ah, I see…” You turn your face to face the front as you gaze at the sunset ahead. “Are you afraid of the uncertainty?” At your question, he falls silent, giving you the confirmation that he was, indeed, scared.

“Shintarou,” you murmur. “You’re not alone in feeling the uneasiness of blooming.”

“Wha—I never said anything about blooming, nanodayo—”

“Sure,” you interject. “Well, for me, I really hope I’d get a gorgeous flower, a flower so breathtaking that would make everyone stop in their tracks to admire the mark. I want to change those stares of pity and disdain into those of admiration and envy…” You can tell he’s hanging onto your every word despite the fact that he wasn’t facing you, his steps slowing down ever so slightly to be as close to you to hear what you had to say without deeming it suspicious.

“I envy Takao… a lot,” you sigh, and Midorima turns his head slightly to you at the mention of Takao’s name. “He already has a flower mark and he’s so put-together despite his cheerfulness… He’s really reliable.”

“I see.”

“... and the truth is, I’m really scared. I feel like I’m going to be the last person to ever get a mark. I wonder if there’s something wrong with me, with my body—”

He stops in his tracks.

“That’s a foolish line of thought.”

You turn to face him, ready to glare at him, but you stop when you make eye contact, startled at the intensity of his gaze. You swear you can see your figure reflected in his viridian irises. A few seconds of suffocating silence crawl by, and you break away eye contact, intimidated by his gaze and the possible implication of his words.

“Sorry about that.”

He says nothing in return.

The rest of the walk home became even more uncomfortable, with Midorima walking slightly ahead and you making a wordless effort to constantly match his stride.

You don’t know why, but seeing his taut back to you squeezes your heart ever so slightly, the mute badumps ever feeling like a constant dull sore.

“Shintarou…” you softly call out after you arrive at your house. The sun had left the horizon shortly before you arrived at your destination. “Thank you for walking me home, and… sorry, it looks like it’s past dusk now, but will you be able to get home safely?”

“Fool,” he huffs. “I have my lucky charm to compensate for my misfortune today.”

You smile at him, relieved at the thought that maybe that moment before was all just your overthinking.

“Of course, Shintarou.”

---------

It was hard looking at Midorima without losing your cool from that point on. It wasn’t like the two of you did anything out of the ordinary yesterday, excluding the fact that he volunteered to walk you home. But you knew he just cared for you in his own way, as a friend.

As a friend.

“(y/n)-chan!” Takao tries to pounce on you, pulling your cheeks apart. “What’s with the nasty frown on your face? Didn’t I tell you that you should smile more?”

“Shtop—pawling—Takow—!”

As he laughs at your stretched face from his pulling, you manage to pry his hands off of your cheeks and take refuge behind the sour-faced shooting guard. “Shintarou! Save me from Takao!”

“Takao, come here.” He gave a harsher punch to his head than usual, and Takao did not fail to comment on it.

“Sheesh, that hurt even more, Shin-chan? What did I do?—oh, ohhhhhhh.” His grimace lit up to an expression of realization and mischievousness. “I see.”

“Your antics are getting more and more preposterous. If you have that much energy, you should expend it during practice, nanodayo.”

“Right, right, Shin-chan!” He waves Midorima off before slinging his arm around your shoulder. “But (y/n)-chan, don’t think you're off the hook just yet!”

You can only sigh as he dramatically waggles his finger at you while Midorima clicks his tongue, opting to walk to his classroom instead.

“H-hey! Don’t leave me behind!”

And with that, the duo disappeared right before the warning bell rang.

---------

You sense an uncharacteristic aura of hostility directed at you right when you entered class, but you shake your head before plopping at your designated seat. As much as you try to mind your own business, the hostility you felt peaked even more. You glance around before your eyes fall on your classmate to your usual left.

She was silently seething, but particularly at you.

“Is… something the matter?” You shot her a worried look. “You were gone yesterday, right? Did your flu kick up again?”

“What’s with you?”

“Pardon?”

“Why do you care so much for me? I never asked for it.”

“Wh-what? I’m just worried? Did I say something wrong?”

“You are—”

“I am?”

And the bell rang with such convenient timing to interrupt the two of you.

“It’s nothing. Forget it.”

And class started without a further word from her, and as lectures progress, you peek over to her desk to see her never looking your way. The least you do, you decide, is to try to apologize and talk to her afterschool.

“... a revolutionary finding was published all over the news yesterday regarding bloomings. He proposed the most controversial proposition yet: bloomings neither affect the human body’s growth and maturity physiologically nor psychologically and that these ‘effects’ from blooming are merely all placebo. His conclusions have caused an uproar in the world of scholarship, but what I want for you students to do is to write an in-class paper about your reaction to these potential revelations…”

You sit up straight, and for the first time, you listen to his lessons with utmost attention. Your mind racing, you rush to grab a suitable pencil before you start to write your thoughts for the assignment. You peer over to your classmate to see her already writing furiously. You do the same.

She was the first student to screech the chair as she stood up, daintily holding the paper to bring it to the front desk.

All you could discern from her paper, even despite the neat writing, was:

I am ultimately relieved.

---------

“W-wait! Please!” You dash out of the classroom, trailing after your classmate who hightailed it out as soon as possible.

“Leave me alone already!” she heaves over her shoulder, willing her legs to run even faster.

“Your… homework! I have to give… work that you… missed!” And you had relatively no problem speeding up to match her pace.

“Can you just stop following me?! I can just get it from my teachers! What’s your deal?!”

“I want to apologize—!” But before you can finish your sentence, your classmate drops onto her knees, clasping her mouth in complete desperation. “H-hey! What’s wrong?!”

She wheezed into her palms before she got up and ran again before you could completely catch up to her.

She busted open the main doors and ran into the secluded areas of the school courtyard, hoping to lose your trail of her, but as soon as she turned from looking behind her shoulder to the front again, you managed to cut her way off.

“Your… homework…” you gasp for air, shakily handing her the papers that were clenched in your hand.

The next thing you register are splatters of blood on the sheets. And your classmate desperately holding her coughs in.

“Hey!...” You hold her frame, slowly dropping the two of you onto the ground in kneeling positions to try to ease the burden on her body, soiled papers already discarded to the side.

Cough. “Don’t—” Cough. “Fucking—” Cough. “Touch me…”

As she spoke, her hands loosen up their grip against her mouth, but as soon as she did, petals and buds cascaded from her lips. Which were all soaked in blood.

“I…” You dumbly look at the pile of flowers in front of her. You couldn’t even tell what type of flowers they were from all the blood. “You’re blooming?” You always thought she already did.

She slaps your hand, which was on her shoulder the entire time, before tucking her strands behind her ear to prevent them from being further drenched in crimson.

Her neck, being exposed for the first time, was blank.

“C-congratulations!” You say, holding both her shoulders this time with excitement. “You’re—!”

Slap.

The sound resonated through the area, which luckily was mostly empty. Your face pulsates with a stinging heat.

“I’m fucking dying!” She stands up shakily from her kneeling position. “How could you say such an awful thing—I’m dying, I’m fucking dying…”

You can only stare at her in shock from her being so volatile for the first time since you met her, or the fact that she said such a morbid thing.

“I don’t… I don’t understand—?”

“I’m sick!” she seethes, her throat struggling to choke out words. Tears run silently down her agonized face, diluting the thick blood smeared across her face.

“I’m so sorry…! I didn’t know your flu was this ba—”

“You’re the reason why I’m dying,” she hoarsely spat.

The silence was so palpable that even the labored breathing from her was unnaturally loud.

“What? Why me?”

“I…” she hesitates, before dropping to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to—it’s not your fault, I…

… I’m so scared.” Hiccup. “There isn’t any medicine to help me…”

You hand her a tissue from your bag to try to clean up the bloody mess off of her, but before you can dab the tissue to her face, she gingerly grabs your wrist.

“I… love Takao.”

What? You held your breath, anticipating to hear what she’d say next.

“But he rejected me not too long ago. I thought I could get over him and be done with blooming relatively quickly but…” She pointedly looks at you. “Whenever he’s so close to you, especially as of late… my heart hurts. It hurts, it hurts so badly and I don’t know, and then I just start coughing more, and more, and more.”

“It’s just a stage of life,” you insist. “Maybe your case is the most extreme, but—”

“Oh, stop it already,” she snarls. “You still believe in whatever they feed you about this ‘blooming’? It’s a disease, for fuck’s sake.” She tries to get up again. “I thought… I could be friends with you because you were the only one who wasn’t being sucked into their rhetorics… guess I was wrong.”

You were still on your knees when you tried to stretch out your hand to her, but retracted it after seeing her stumble away from you. But as she did so, she hacked out a new bouquet of flowers, but this time, you could see tiny white flowers rimmed with pale blue.

Morning glories…

They meant unrequited love.

“(y/n)...?” she softly asked, for the first time using her usual mild-mannered tone of voice with you today. She disregarded the mess of petals she made around her, appearing to be accustomed to the unsettling sight.

“... yes?”

“Do you love Takao?”

“I would never see him that way.”

“That’s… good to hear…” She gives you a defeated close-eyed smile.

“Wait… you still need to get cleaned up.”

You got up on your feet to try to guide her face your way to wipe off, and as you try to scrub the dried clots of blood away, she manages to croak a laugh.

“I thought that you were trying to rub it in my face about Takao the entire time whenever you talked to me… I was so wary of you, I was so blinded…” You silently listen as you pour your water bottle over the next tissue.

“Do you know why teens in particular have to pay attention to when they’ll bloom?”

“No…” You furrow your brows, already reevaluating about everything you supposedly already knew about blooming. “I don’t.”

“Teens are more likely to have their first love than any other person. If they can overcome their first unrequited love… that would mean… they are ready to apparently to survive and carry on with their lives…

… tell me… am I not good enough to be alive? I can’t even get over—”

You only hush her as you scrub away the last remnants of blood from her skin. Her clothes were unfortunately already stained.

“That’s the best I could do,” you quietly say. “Please get home as soon as possible. And take care of yourself.”

“The paper we had today in class… When our teacher talked about the new findings of blooming research, I was so happy. But looking around class, no one seemed to share the same sentiments. Even still, I am glad about the possibility that one day, we’d stop emphasizing so much on these marks…

“Although I wish I made the attempt to become closer friends with you sooner, I have no regrets now… I’m so glad you’re here…

 “I feel so relieved…”

---------

The next day of school, you had an ominous feeling settled within the pits of your stomach. You come to school early, deciding to sit at your desk the entire time and reading to pass the time. You did not feel like talking to your happy-go-lucky friend and his grumpy pet, as much as you usually enjoy their company.

Ever so often, you would glance at the clock and wish for it to come faster.

The bell eventually rings and most of the students crowd into the classroom into their seats. The homeroom teacher promptly follows after and puts her bag onto the front desk. But the seat to your left… was empty.

“Everyone… I have some unfortunate news to share,” she solemnly says. No, no, no… it can’t be.

Your mind goes blank as you stare at the teacher, vaguely reading her lips as one thing went in and out the other ear.

“... she unfortunately passed away. She wasn’t able to bloom.”

Your heart, already struggling to keep afloat on the last shreds of optimism, sank.

“Wha…? She’s gone?”

“That’s such a pity…”

“She was in our class? Since when?”

“Yikes, she wasn’t even able to bloom? That sucks for her, honestly.”

You stare blankly at your desk, not registering the fact that the special health ed class teacher took over the class after homeroom.

The whispers around the gossiping students only serve as a cruel reminder that late bloomers did not get any sympathy from others.

You needed to bloom, and fast.

---------

You only manage to exit out of class and find the cafeteria out of pure muscle memory, but your mind constantly goes back to yesterday evening with her. Were you the last person she got to speak with before she died? Was she scared? Did she truly die happy? You will never get to know.

You stop before the cafeteria doorway, inhaling and exhaling to bring your conscience back into the present day, and slowly stroll in. Takao and Midorima were already deep in conversation, so you stop, waiting for the perfect opportunity to join them.

“Shin-chan, have you heard?” Takao says, holding up his fork. “A student our year died from blooming.”

“It’s not in my matters to worry about, although I would like to give her family my condolences.” Midorima takes his time to cut his patty cleanly with a knife.

“It must suck though, to think this would happen… isn’t it a bit sad, Shin-chan?”

“It’s easily preventable, nanodayo.” He chews a small piece before continuing. “I would’ve never made the foolish mistake of falling in love. I’d rather be markless than fall in love.”

He would’ve never made the foolish mistake of falling in love…

He would’ve never made such a mistake…

He would’ve never fallen in love.

And certainly not with you.

Your heavy heart spikes in a pulse. Your heart was now racing for the wrong reasons. Those dull sores were now nothing compared to the incessant squeezing on your heart. And it won’t let up. You try to steady your breathing to calm yourself but your intake of air almost feels as if it’s being cut off.

You feel as if you can’t breathe.

You step back a couple steps before you dash to the nearest restroom, ignoring the stares of a few students around you.

“Speaking of the girl, wasn’t she in (y/n)-chan’s classroom? I actually haven’t seen her around today.”

“Takao, let me eat in peace.”

“Sheesh, you’re such a downer, Shin-chan.”

---------

You not being able to breathe was not just figuratively.

You ran to the restroom up on the 3rd floor, where you knew it was always mostly empty. You opened the door of the furthest stall and locked yourself in before you tried to heave whatever was blocking your airway.

1… 4… 7… 8 fern leaves—fronds—were choked out in a string of forced wheezes. They all floated seemingly innocently on the water of the toilet bowl.

Your body trembles, not able to take the sudden physical burden on it.

You should be happy, you really should. This was what you wished and prayed for all these years. But whatever you coughed out wasn’t even pretty-looking; hell, it wasn’t even a flower.

“I’d rather be markless…”

With Midorima’s words playing back to back in your head like a broken record, your lungs had the visceral reaction to gasp for more air before throwing up the rest of the leaves. It took the rest of lunch for you to stand up properly and collect yourself before you headed back to class.

You wished and you wished for your blooming to come, but now that your signs became apparent, you suddenly don’t want to bloom.

---------

Classes became harder to focus on, especially with the persistent dull stabs echoing in your heart. You feel that this pain was being constantly amplified and spread to the rest of your body.

You’re tired already, and it was only the initial stages.

School finished before you even knew it. Maybe it was because of the constant distraction your pain provided. A benefit from this new situation, if you were trying to be hopelessly optimistic, is that you wouldn’t be bored anymore at least.

You walk out of class in a slight daze, loosely scanning your surroundings until your eyes land on Takao and Midorima, although your gaze lingered on Midorima longer than you want to admit.

You hate this. The moment you figured that you fell in love with him was also the moment you learned that it was unrequited. If that wasn’t the unluckiest thing that ever happened to you, you don’t know what else is.

As you walk towards them, you toy with the idea of carrying around lucky items and taking Midorima’s advice in doing whatever you can to make your life easier (especially as of late), but you decide against it, trying not to dig your own grave by purposely doing things that reminded you of the green-haired boy even more.

“Kazu! Shintarou!” You casually wave over to them, masking the pain you felt at the sharp jabs you felt every so often in your chest.

“Oh? There you are,” Takao walks to your side to drop his arm on your shoulder. “Where you been, (y/n)-chan?”

“Been busy with… assignments and school.”

“Ah, well that can’t be helped. Speaking of busy, our captain is upping our practices, so we’re going to be gone a lot of the times.”

“No, no, don’t worry about me, just focus on basketball,” you say. “After all, that’s what you’re most passionate about. Don’t let me stop you.”

“You sure are understanding,” he laughs as he ruffles your hair. “But so—wah? Shin-chan, where are you going? Don’t leave me behind, damn it!”

Midorima won’t even speak with you…

“Seeyah! Nice seeing you!”

“Yeah… bye, Takao and… Shintarou…” By the time you spoke Midorima’s name, it barely came out as an audible whisper.

Somewhere within your heart, you hoped to be able to speak with Midorima but you wonder if he’s avoiding you on purpose.

As you walk home, alone, you think about the conversation you and Midorima had when he walked with you.

Had you misinterpreted Midorima in thinking that he wanted to bloom?

Was Midorima not the type to even want a mark?

In the end, were you just projecting your own desires and insecurities onto him?

The more you think, the more you realize how little you truly know about him. Right on cue, your windpipe constricts and spasms, signalling for you to find something to throw up in.

The nearest trash can was sufficient, and besides, no one was out in the streets to see a pitiful you hacking out with atrocious noises in an attempt to coax the leaves out. You pant in an attempt to calm your breathing, noticing the small spots of blood already staining dots on the vibrant fronds. Viscous blood mixed with your saliva hangs precariously from your lips, waiting to separate and fall into the bin with the leaves.

Your hands, grasping the trash can’s rims, shake in trying to hold your body up. And they tremble harder when you squint your eyes to start sobbing.

Your thick tears managed to fall into the bin before the ropy strands of blood dangling from your lips.

---------

You decide to spend most of your free time, at home and at school, researching about blooming beyond what your education system fed you. At school, you properly utilize the library, scouring every book on the subject you could find. But you weren’t surprised to see only books that talked about topics that were already covered in class.

Your fervid research took your mind off of Midorima, which subsequently stalled your stage of blooming.

You were going to start at the foundation of blooming: what exactly was it?

While the question is still being debated among the top scientists in the country, you took it upon yourself to try to come with an answer for yourself. For all you were concerned with, everything you thought you knew about blooming felt like an intricately-woven lie.

All the theorizing in your mind halted when you coincidentally found Midorima in one of the library sections.

“Sh-shintarou…?”

At your voice, he jumps out of his skin and then freezes. “What are you doing here?... Don’t you have practice?”

“Obviously I do, nanodayo…” he mutters, sliding his glasses up. You hate that you’ve noticed his habits even before you fell for him, but now that you did, you were even more hyper aware of everything he does. “But they insisted I rest for the actual games.”

“... while the others continue practice like normal?”

He ignores your question as he turns around to walk away. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’ll be going.”

“W-wait!” You unconsciously grab the back of his uniform shirt. Shit.

He turns around, eyeing you and waiting what you had to say.

“Well, I… I have to go home—right now! And well, since Takao is at practice I was wondering if you—”

He frowns before calmly replying. “No.”

No?

He leaves.

You stand there completely devastated. You don’t know whether to be furious at him and hate him to get over your pain or to do nothing but collapse against the bookshelf and silently cry your heart out.

You did the latter.

---------

The more you think about your unrequited love, the faster you will bloom. The faster you overcome and mature, the faster your blooming will pass. That’s what the books say.

But if you think about them more, isn’t that just a first-row ticket to accelerating to your death? Perhaps your late classmate was right in which blooming wasn’t something to boast about.

Your eyes have been puffy for days, although you mask it quite well with skincare and a dab of concealer. Nonetheless, you still look unwell and unnaturally pale at other parts of your face.

Your other classmates don’t pay attention to you, and for once, you’re grateful that your markless status helped you in flying under everyone’s radar.

You think you’re getting delusional. To ease your own pain during class, you now make it a little hobby to come up with different scenarios in how you would be saved from this.

What if you stop coming to school for a few weeks to see if anyone notices that you went missing?

What if you collapse in the hallway while walking with your friends and then Midorima panics and confesses his undying love for you?

What if an earthquake hit the bustlings of Tokyo and you were one of the only students who couldn’t be rescued by professionals and you were trapped because of your blooming body—and then maybe perhaps Midorima—

“(y/n).”

“Y-y-yes?” You immediately stand up without missing a beat.

“Could you read the passage from lines 37 to 49?...”

“Yes!...”

This was stupid. What were you even thinking at this point?

Honestly, your best option was to do everything in your power to get over Midorima and get your long-deserved mark.

---------

It’s been a couple of days.

While you still fantasize a few “damsel in distress” scenarios sometimes, you feel numb in a good way; your body was accustomed to the dull thuds, so you don’t even feel them as much anymore, and your mind has been clearer ever since the passing of your acquaintance, but at this point, you’re more inclined to call her your friend. You still hacked up a few ferns, though.

You decide to visit her grave on the weekend, which was freshly dug and cemented; it’s been a few weeks since her passing after all. As stupid as it sounded, you got her morning glories. Her spirit might hate you for constantly reminding her the cause of her death, but it’s the only flower that truly reminds you of her, and the only flower that made such an impact on you.

You pay your respects and spend the afternoon with her, murmuring how she was right after all and now it was your turn to finally go what she went through. You also talk about how Takao was doing, and how Shūtōku was competing right now against the big schools. You affectionately rub her gravestone before you leave.

You happen to pass by the stadium of where the esteemed Winter Cup was being held. That was where your team was competing wasn’t it?

You stop, however, when you see a particular greenhead near, with an unfamiliar blonde… and a pink-haired girl, a gorgeous one at that.

Thump… thump… thump…

You were supposed to be over him. You weren’t supposed to care about his affairs. But you saw him being so casual with her while she was holding a baby husky, you suddenly felt as helpless as the you back in the cafeteria, at the doorway, when you heard what Midorima said.

You already told your late friend that you got over Midorima. The last thing you wanted to do now was to end up lying to her that you never did.

You tear your eyes away and bolt, tears blurring your vision as you run in the general direction to where you thought was your home. You hoped that your parents were still at work, because you did not have the courage to tell them that you were a disappointment because you couldn’t even do the bare minimum of blooming. And you certainly hoped her spirit wasn’t following you somehow, because you didn’t want to be the reason for her suffering again, as unreasonable as it sounded.

By the time you arrived at your gates, you couldn’t control the resurfacing of ferns from your lungs as you felt the blood spilling in bursts with the leaves, along with the loud hiccups and desperate wails that escaped from your body. You had left a visible trail of complementary colors of red and green. But you didn’t care. Guilt and rejection wracked your body to the point beyond properly functioning.

Despite the muddy colors that fill your vision, you manage to clumsily use the keys to enter into your house, but walking beyond those gates proved to be more troublesome as those muddy colors soon became even hazier and your legs wobbled weaker. You stumbled and tripped and slipped yet you made the effort to get back up again. You knew you were going to have to hide the dark bruises that formed from you constantly crashing… and probably come up with excuses if you couldn’t obscure all of them. You beg your body to make it to your room at the very least.

I’ll… just sleep it off… it’ll all be okay… I’ll wake up, and everything will just be a dream… a dream…

You collapse onto the floor of the living room, your house door still completely open from moments before.

It must be your room’s bed, right? How else would it explain why you felt so at ease right now?

You feebly choke, too lethargic to even hold up a hand to stop the contents of your blooming from spilling all over the floor.

Ah… won’t they be mad when they’d get back from home?... Maybe you should clean up your bed.

But a short nap sounds heavenly at the moment, and your body has the same idea, your heart relaxing and easing up on the painful thuds for the first time in a while.

You peacefully flutter your eyes, registering amongst the haze the brilliant shade of greens the fern exhibited, which truly reminded you of the person who ultimately could not return your love back… a true sight for sore eyes like yours.

“Sh… ta… rou…���

You vaguely felt your throat tickling from the inside before you lost complete consciousness.

The fern that represented eternal youth… new life… new beginnings… even until the end, you could not comprehend why your body decided to grow ferns.

The sight on the floor was eerily ethereal. Your face was completely serene as your lips were parted by long, elegant ferns emerging from your esophagus, watered by fresh crimson. Your body looked like it was made to be a delicate, asymmetrical vase for the newly-sprouted foliage. There was nothing but silence, save for the wall clock’s ticking that signaled your death.

---------

“Midorin? What’s wrong?” Momoi tilted her head up at Midorima, who started to palpitate. “Did the games pump you up?”

“Obviously not.” He glanced at her pointedly before he excused himself.

“H-uh? Hold up—Midorin!”

At her voice, he took longer strides to outpace, even lose, her, and he sharply made a turn to a deserted area behind the stadiums. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe—

A cough. Two coughs. Then his floodgates bursted, with a yellow petal fluttering into his hand before he coughed up the rest of the hyacinth flower, its scent steeped in the headache-inducing odor of metal.

The yellow hyacinth… while the pink hyacinth tattooed on Takao meant playfulness, his own flower meant jealousy.

The first time he felt it was when Takao dragged you to the gym and proclaimed that he knew you better than anyone. His own heart thrashed in its place at the sight of Takao being so confident and easygoing around you. While beating Takao managed to subdue his inner pain, a seed of doubt was still inevitably planted within.

The second time he felt a stronger wave of envy was when he saw you patiently waiting for Takao to come out of his class.

The third time he felt his heart do an awful kick in his upper rib cage was when he heard you spoke so highly of Takao as he walked you home. No matter how much he tried to get close to you, he knew he could never outdo Takao socially. The fact that he could only get as close as he did to you was indirectly thanks to Takao. He was silent that evening, his mind swirling from the self-hatred and jealousy of his innate friendliness to everyone… especially you.

You both ironically envied Takao for different reasons.

As soon as he waited for you to safely enter your house, he widened his eyes as his throat started to twitch. Clasping his lucky item, he bolted to the nearest grass area outside a fence to barf up his umpteenth whole hyacinth flower, with crushed petals and stems.

That’s when he knew that not even the Oha Asa could not save him from this, not unless he took a different approach.

He hated it. He could not emphasize it any further than that. The way you allowed Takao to get so close to you, the way he saw how Takao knew what was going on inside his head. He hated yet envied his natural ability to read people.

 So what did he do? He only did what he only knew how to do in social situations: walk away.

He’d never admit that he was in love. Certainly not to Takao. He’ll keep denying it to him to the bitter end. He told himself that he would show Takao someday, that he was, without a doubt, more suitable to be by your side.

He wanted to get over his love for you as soon as possible so he could adorn a flower tattoo…

If he did… would you notice him too?

Would he be a man worthy of your love?

Avoiding you broke him in many ways. Every time he did, he kept rethinking about his plan. Was this a good idea?

But being the stubborn person he was, he decided to not budge. He’d figure that the Oha Asa would give him the ultimate blessings for Cancer someday soon, and he could act accordingly then. For now, he figured he should lay low.

He’ll never breathe a word of his blooming to Takao. He didn’t want to be the next person making that same mistake as your classmate, yet here he was, a perfect example of falling for the exact same trap, despite knowing the consequences.

He couldn’t help it. Not if it was you.

Yet, Takao being the sharp point-guard that he was, noticed how Midorima had trouble keeping up during practices. Midorima didn’t know what Takao told the captain, but the next thing he knew, he wasn’t allowed to practice under the pretense of “saving his strength before the games.” As much as he wanted to argue, he couldn’t do much when the captain’s glare pierced through him, daring him to defy the captain’s order. He couldn’t even play basketball anymore in order to distract himself from thoughts of you.

As he continued to think back about all the failed interactions he tried to initiate with you, his lips leaked petal after soaked petal onto the concrete as he propped his forearms and head against the wall.

“Damn it… damn it… damn it…”

He slowly slid his down, his fisted arms and head still against the wall, until he dropped his knees onto the hard floor. He tried to regain his composure, but it was difficult with his knees mushing the bloodied flowers already on the concrete and the fresher flowers ever so continuing to fall on his lap.

He kept hacking up hyacinths blossoms, hoping he could clear his throat and stabilize his breathing again before he could go back into the stadium. Even after nonstop regurgitation, its glaring yellow color kept mocking at his macabre predicament, taunting him to try to stop the flow of its fatal petals.

He slammed his fist against the wall. He had to tough it out… how else could he ever face you?

But the strength of his wall pounding told a different story. It lacked physical strength even with his unwavering conviction. Midorima was dying. He was dying and he wasn’t even able to have a single thing in his favor.

For the first time, he cursed his fate, cursed the horoscopes, cursed astrology and all the unseen deities in the cosmos for concocting up such a horrible thing for only humans.

“... It’s really frustrating… being like this…”

Midorima gave a final, painful rasp before his body completely slumped, his raised arms going limp at his sides. His body eventually fell onto his side, unable to hold up its own weight without support.

His viscid blood slowly soaked his verdant hair, his orange jersey jacket and sweats, and his golden hyacinths. Warm colors ironically encompassed his ever-growing cold corpse, illustrating a striking yet haunting still-life painting, lying in wait for the next person to discover at the back of the stadium…

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 3 - Too Close for Comfort

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Summary: Your training at Tenet is going perfectly well until it’s thrown off balance with the arrival of Neil, who brings chaos and surprising news...

Warnings: Swearing.

Author’s Notes: So once again this very long, for which I’m sorry. Please let me know what you think! Thanks for the inspiration to my friends, as always! Enjoy!

The first few weeks of your training went by in a mad blur. After day two you realised that to avoid spending ages in the car you had to move into the Tenet building. There you had a cosy room with a bed, desk, a bathroom and relative peace. That is if the more extraverted agents were not partying in the mess hall or the common room. You usually spent the evenings alone, not having the energy or motivation to socialise. Sometimes you also felt as though others perceived you differently for reasons unknown.

Maybe because you have been recruited by one of Tenet’s top agents personally?

Your days have been spent either learning about physics and the theoretical side of the inversion or in the sparring hall, trying to dodge inverted punches and kicks. While all the talk of entropy and nuclear fission usually made your head hurt, it was the hand in hand combat that was the bane of your training. Having absolutely no prior experience in various fighting styles, you often got beat up by the fellow recruits. You certainly preferred guns to fists.

Neil has been gone for weeks as well. You knew that most likely the details of the mission were entirely classified so you never asked. But you sometimes did wonder if he would ever show up again. You had to admit that you did hope so. It would be a shame to never see Anna beam like that again.

This day started like any other in that regard. You woke up and got ready for the first class – geography of Tenet, so lessons covered all the different branches with the turnstiles and how to get from one to another when inverted. After that it was the classic combat. You took your position and acknowledged the partner for the hour – a boring guy named Jack who would sometimes hit on you. And today was not going to be different…

“Hello love” he grinned way too widely

“Hi” you answered back dispassionately, praying for the class to start

“You’re looking good today” Jack smirked, trying to look flirtatious and you rolled your eyes.

Pairs all around you were beginning their training and you wanted to cut the small talk short as soon as possible.

“Please, can we get on with this? I really don’t have time” Jack pouted but complied.

Soon you have begun the session. At first, you managed to block his punches and kicks really well, even hit him a few times when he seemed too busy staring at you to react. But then as the pace picked up, you lost the rhythm. Soon you were breathing hard and your body was aching. While Jack wasn’t pulling any punches, he quickly got worried, seeing you pant and wince. He took a step back and asked:

“Everything alright with you?”

“Yeah, just need a breather” you smiled apologetically.

Suddenly, just as you looked up at the front of the hall where the teachers were stood, a dirty blonde head caught your eye.

It can’t be… you scrunched your neck to see better above the students and your eyes met the unmistakable blue gaze. Neil was staring right at you through the crowd.

Shit. Before you could let your thoughts run away too far, Jack began the training again. Without a warning, he aimed a punch towards your shoulder and you barely blocked it. You were desperately trying to focus on the sparring, but the curious mind kept returning to Neil. You ignored it for a while, but then you looked up again. The blue eyes were on you for all that time. That was also the moment when Jack aimed a punch at your jaw, certain you will be there to block it. You were not.

Next thing you knew you were lying on the floorboards, with a throbbing pain in your jaw and Jack staring at you in shock.

“I…I’m sorry! I thought you’d be ready…” he stuttered and held out a hand to help you get up.

Fuck!, you swore and grudgingly accepted the help. But as soon as you were back standing, you had to run. You couldn’t risk meeting Neil right now. And you were pretty damn sure he saw the whole thing happen. Looking at Jack, you breathed out:

“Sorry, I’ve got to go” and quickly pushed through the crowd to the side exit, praying that you will not be followed.

You got lucky and made a hasty escape to your room where you could finally let your emotions loose. Which in this case meant punching the desk and letting out a stream of favourite swear words. Once that was done you sat down on the bed and covered your face with your hands. You hated embarrassing yourself like that in front of people. Let alone people like Neil.

Finally, after wallowing in self-pity for ten minutes, you got up to shower and change. But you only made it as far as touching the bathroom door handle when you heard a knock.  Somehow you knew who it was and hastily smoothed down your hair before opening the door. Neil stood there, with that sickening grin and tousled hair.

“How did you know which room is mine?” you asked while eyeing him up through the crack in the door.

“Hello to you too” he smirked “Anna told me where to find you”

“Of course” you muttered and opened the door wider to let him in.

“What was that?” he watched you with that sly smile, as though excited about the prospect of annoying you.

“Nothing” you sat on the bed and watched as he took the time to look around your small room.

You noticed that he had ditched the suit jacket and had his sleeves rolled up. The exposed forearms were covered in a few fading bruises and cuts. You stared at them a bit too long and quickly looked down at your lap, desperately trying to find something to say. Normally you liked silence, but in this case it made your thoughts wonder way too much.

“So you’re back then?” you asked, cringing at how stupid that sounded.

Neil sat down on the desk chair opposite you and nodded.

“Yeah, for now the world ending has been averted” he joked lightly, and you smiled, suddenly aware that you have missed him.

He searched your face for a short while before asking:

“I take it you don’t like combat sessions?”

“What gave you such an impression?”

“Well that was an impressive knock-out” he winked, and you groaned, causing him to laugh.

“Was hoping you’ve somehow missed it” you admitted while looking away at the wall.

His intense stare was starting to make you feel self-conscious. After all those weeks of not seeing him you have forgotten what it was like. Sometimes you even thought that maybe Neil was just a figment of your imagination. But he was most certainly real. And right now was still looking at you, searching for something. He found it when he suddenly got up and kneeled right in front of you. You stared wide-eyed as he reached out and touched a sore spot on your jaw, making you flinch.

“Sorry” he apologised “Is this where you got hit today?” gently he traced the bruise that was beginning to form.

“Think so” your voice came out huskier than you expected.

“There’s a small cut” only now you felt the sting “You should get that cleaned up” he noticed and met your gaze steadily.

You realised with a surprise that he was looking at you with worry. He was close. Way too close. You felt the rush of adrenaline and jumped up, nearly knocking him on the head in the process.

“I’m fine” you mumbled “I’ll check it now” you moved towards the bathroom.

But once again it was not meant to be. Neil placed his hands on your arms and pulled you down to sit on the bed.

“We’ve done this before” he glared at you “And I’m not taking ‘fine’ for an answer this time” you could just stare “Now, where do you have the first aid kit?”

“Shelf behind the mirror” you watched as he went to the bathroom and covered your face with your hands.

You always hated being the centre of attention. Being cared after like this. Because it meant that you were not strong enough in the first place. It was easier to just be entirely self-dependent, to never ask for help. And now Neil has seen your weakness twice. It was too much. Just as you have begun to consider bolting away, he emerged, armed with gauze and glass filled with water. He set them down on the bedside table and turned towards you. He must have noticed your struggle because he frowned and took a long look at you before asking:

“Is everything alright?”

You forced yourself to meet his gaze and nodded.

“Because you don’t look alright right now”

“Thanks, you know how to compliment a girl” you joked dryly, trying to stop the line of uncomfortable questioning.

It worked as Neil burst out laughing and looked at you incredulously. The downside was that you could no longer run away. So you accepted his beckoning to come closer and lifted your head to give him better access to the cut. He soaked the gauze in water and carefully cleaned the wound, all the while perfectly focused on the task. Although you could not see him you imagined the look of concentration on his face. Once the cut has been disinfected, he covered it with a small band-aid and gave you a quick once-over. You lowered your head and watched him out of the corner of your eye. After he was done with the inspection, his hand was still gently touching your jaw, with thumb caressing your neck just below the ear. You stared at him with lips parted in shock, wondering if he was aware of the movement. You shifted slightly and that broke him out of the reverie. His eyes met yours, and he smiled softly, not stopping the delicate caress. Now that you knew he was aware of his actions you felt your face heat up. To try and break the tense silence, you decided to speak up:

“Thank you for this…” your voice was incredibly hoarse.

“Of course” he smiled wider “Couldn’t have you walking around bleeding”

His hand had stopped the movement but was still placed on your neck. You could not process how close he was. Your brain kept reminding you how you did not really know him. How it can go wrong. The urge to run away was back, possibly at the worst moment. You quickly turned your head away. Neil looked at you with surprise but before either of you could say anything, a knock echoed in the room. You turned to Neil:

“You expecting anyone?” he asked.

“Certainly not” you frowned and went to open the door cautiously.

On the other side there was a tall man of a soldierly posture with a buzz cut and a pleasant looking face. You looked at him quizzically, but he was staring right past you:

“Anna told me I’d find you here” he addressed Neil, who came up to stand next to you.

The two men then had a rather peculiar silent exchange which started with the soldier smirking while looking at you, and Neil responding with a small shake of the head and a grin. You had enough of that.

“Sorry, but who are you?” you asked, while staring at them both.

“Apologies, ma’am” the newcomer grinned at you “I’m Ives” he extended a hand and you shook it.

“Ives is leader of our squad unit” Neil explained, and you nodded.

“I’m…” you opened your mouth to introduce yourself but got cut off by Ives.

“Oh I know who you are” you stared at him confusedly “Neil told me about you” that knowing grin again.

You noticed with a surprise that Neil looked somewhat flustered. But he composed himself quick enough for you to dismiss that idea. He cleared his throat and asked:

“Anyways, what brings you here Ives?”

“TP wanted me to discuss something with you” your ears perked up at the mention of the Protagonist, the mysterious founder of Tenet “And there will be a small gathering later in the common room with all the squad so thought you might want to join” Ives smiled at you “Both of you”.

Neil looked at you expectantly and you nodded:

“Sure, I’ve got nothing better to do”

“You won’t regret it” Ives grinned “Mate can we talk in private?” he turned to Neil.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you in the briefing room in ten” they shared one last cryptic look and Neil closed the door.

You stared at him, still unable to forget the way he looked at you mere minutes ago. And the moment you have shared. But now the spell has been broken, and you did not know what to say. Luckily Neil seemed to be doing fine as he threw you the signature soft smile:

“Sorry about that. Ives is a pretty straightforward guy” he explained, and you laughed, feeling the tension dissolve.

“I can see that” you held his gaze a little longer before adding “You should go discuss the classified stuff with him. Might be something important”

Neil looked hesitant. Finally, he must have made up his mind because he reached out to squeeze your hand. A familiar gesture by now.

“Shall I pick you up later for the party?” he asked.

“Sure” you smiled “Though calling it a party makes me regret the decision to participate” you admired the grin he sent you.

“No need for that, you’ll do great” he winked and without further word left your room.

Now finally you could panic in peace.

***

After stressing for a solid hour about what to wear, you decided to just put on the comfiest t-shirt and jeans. Most agents and recruits rarely dressed up anyway. Apart from Neil, naturally, but you had a feeling he was an exception in most things. Once you got ready, you sat at the desk, trying to finish the assignments for the classes. That was a very bad idea since your brain was mostly busy panicking about the party and analysing what happened before Ives came. When that desired (and feared) knock sounded in the room, you rushed to open it. You were almost happy Neil has not changed into an expensive suit.

“Ready?” he smiled, and you automatically beamed back.

Have I become like Anna already?, you cringed at your reaction. But there was no time to marinate in shame as Neil practically pulled you out of the room without waiting for confirmation. You stared at him, surprised as the door to your room slammed shut.

“Are we that late?”

He just grinned and started walking down the corridor. You shook your head amused before jogging to catch up. When you both entered the common room you first noticed that they have reorganised the space by moving the couches around. Now they formed a large circle in the middle of which there was a table set with beer and wine bottles. There was also music playing from the speakers. And there were at least ten people in the room. At that observation you swallowed hard. You were never good with meeting new people and the idea itself made you anxious. But looking at Neil marching in confidently and shaking hands with everyone you realised that you might have to overcome the fear. The moment you stepped through the threshold all eyes were on you.

Bloody hell, you pasted a small smile on your lips and looked at all the faces. But before you were forced to introduce yourself, Ives did it for you:

“This is our new recruit, Y/N” everyone smiled at you “She’s friends with Neil, so we’ll probably see more of her” he added, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

You looked at Neil and once again would swear he looked slightly uncomfortable. But before you could think about it more you got swept into the circle by Ives and tried to remember names of everyone introduced to you. After the initial small talk, you sat down with a glass of wine, hoping to be able to just listen to others talk and fade into the background. But it wasn’t meant to be…

“So how do you like the training?” a woman asked, that you believed was called Wheeler.

She was looking at you with a pleasant smile which gave you the needed courage.

“It’s not too bad. The whole physics side of it makes my head hurt sometimes but then it’s all so fascinating” you saw a few understanding smiles and nods.

“Well I can help you with the physics if you ever need it” Neil spoke up suddenly and you looked at him across the table.

He has been weirdly quiet since you came in but was evidently listening to the conversation. He was looking at you with a small smile which you mirrored as a way of thanks. You were very aware of the company.

“But yeah I don’t mind the training” you tried to finish the thought “It’s very different from the stuff I did at university and that’s refreshing” you grinned.

“Heard you don’t like the combat training” Ives smirked, and you glared at him.

So everyone knows now…, you groaned mentally.

“What’s the basis for this assumption?” you didn’t want to give up your dignity without a fight.

With satisfaction, you noted the surprised grin he responded with.

“Got my sources” he shrugged “And that bruise on your jaw is a pretty good clue too”

“What can I say, you got me there” you put up your hands in surrender and he laughed.

“No shame in that though, love” your eyes widened at the nickname “I’m sure you’ll get better at it with time” he winked, and your eyes got even wider.

At that point someone luckily started another topic that you were not familiar with so you could focus on dealing with what just happened. You felt someone stare at you intently and looked up to see the well-known blue eyes boring into your face. His expression was somewhat sombre, and you briefly wondered if he could be jealous. You shook your head at the ridiculousness of the thought and took a large sip of wine. Neil was still looking at you and only stopped when he got asked about a recent mission. You listened curiously:

“Well it was nothing out of the ordinary. Inverted weapons dealer, murky transactions and a proper gunfight in the parking lot” he shrugged, and you wondered if that’s what the future holds for you.

“Any fuck ups this time?”

“Just a small… misunderstanding” Neil raised his arms to show the bruised forearms and the others laughed.

Then the conversation shifted towards more mundane things and you were happy to just listen. You have been pleasantly surprised by the camaraderie you noticed between the squad members and Neil. You have been asked a few questions about your past which were a nice change to the anonymity you got used to during the training. Sometimes you would look at Neil, giving in to curiosity. He was either listening to the conversation or joking with the rest, making use of the infinite charm he seemed to possess. You were not surprised to see that everyone seemed to like him. After a while you lost the sense of time and were pretty sure you had enough wine to regret it in the morning. So when someone mentioned that it is past 1am you groaned out loud and got up. The world swayed before your eyes and you waited another moment to adjust before speaking:

“Sorry I need to go now or else won’t survive the shooting training tomorrow” you smiled apologetically.

“Good luck with that!” Ives sent you another cheeky grin and you laughed.

“Thanks, will be needed” with that you moved towards the exit, waving goodbye.

You started walking down the corridor when you felt a hand touch your arm unexpectedly. You jumped up at the contact.

“Didn’t mean to startle you” Neil smiled, and you glared at him.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t creep up on me” you both continued down the hallway “Why did you leave the party?” “I’m quite tired” you glanced at him surprised “And because I have something important to tell you”

You stopped in front of your door and you leaned on the wall.

“The Protagonist wants to meet you” your eyes widened “That’s what me and Ives talked about before. He said that TP is interested in you and wants us to come to the HQ’s as soon as we can”

You stared at him in shock. It didn’t make any sense.

“Why?”

“No idea” he shrugged, and you were shocked to see him clueless “But I’ll go with you and I want us to get the plane on Friday after your training”

“That’s the day after tomorrow” you frowned, thinking about everything you would need to do before boarding on a plane to the US.

“I know. But from my experience I can tell you that if TP says something, it’s best to listen to him” he added, startling you with the serious tone.

He must have noticed how scared that made you because he reached out to touch your shoulder and gave it a gentle rub.

“Don’t worry about it for now though. I’ll arrange everything for the travel and will come by tomorrow afternoon with details” he let his hand fall to his side and you instantly missed the touch.

You raked through your head for something to say.

“So you’re not disappearing this time?” you asked finally, letting yourself eye him suspiciously.

“Certainly not” he grinned and watched as you opened the door to the room. When you got in, he added:

“But it’s good to know you’ve missed me” the playful sparks made you want to punch him in the teeth.

Instead, you just rolled your eyes pointedly, way too tired.

“G’night, Neil” you muttered and started closing the door.

“Sweet dreams” he whispered and disappeared into the darkness of the corridor.

You covered your head with your hands. This is very inconvenient, you thought while wondering how you got yourself into this situation.

[natusvincere]

A Talk to Remember || Morgan and Vic

Who: @mor-beck-more-problems and @natusvincere Where: Morgan and Deirdre’s house When: Current What:  Vic wants her dagger back, Morgan wants to chat first. Warnings:  Mentions of suicide ideation

It was a familiar trip to Morgan’s home, but somehow, each time Vic made the journey there, the unfamiliar anxiety associated with the journey swelled a bit stronger.  Today was no exception.  She kept telling herself that the only reason she was even taking such a journey was to get her dagger back, but even she wasn’t so disillusioned to think that was the whole truth.  The multiple spare daggers she had back at home weren’t the only thing that proved it.  The things Morgan had been saying had been swimming in her brain, and she didn’t know if she wanted to hear more of it or set her friend straight for good.  She’d been mulling over it for weeks now, exhausted at the back and forth her mind was constantly flip flopping between.  One minute she’d be convinced Morgan was wrong and ready to write her off and the next she’d be drowning in guilt at the idea of Morgan being right.  The latter seemed to be happening more frequently. After several moments of internal struggle, she found herself rolling her eyes as she buzzed the doorbell, switching her weight back and forth to quell the anxiety.  Her face remained blank when the door opened, but her stomach flipped uncomfortably. There was so much she wanted to say, but “I was in the area” was all that came out of Vic’s mouth.

 Morgan knew Vic had too much pride to come straight to the house as soon as they made their plans and too much pride to never show up at all. But it still came as a surprise when the doorbell rang and her friend, or once-friend, appeared on the other side. Morgan took several moments to process the woman’s presence and decode whatever Vic was hiding under, I was in the area. Maybe nerves, maybe agitation, but hell if Morgan knew what for, exactly. 

“Uh. Hi.” She said at last. “Can I help you…?”

 The silence between them was loud, and Vic was sure she’d squirm right out of her skin if Morgan didn’t say anything soon.  And then she did, and Vic wanted to squirm away even more.  She looked between Morgan and her car, contemplating if she should just turn and run back.  Instead, she said, “You have my dagger.  Did you forget?”  There was something keeping her from holding Morgan’s eye contact, her gaze instead traveling from her chin to the doorknob to the plants she kept on her porch.  “I just want it back.  Then I’ll leave you alone.”

 “No, I remember,” Morgan said, smirking. “Come on in, have a seat in the kitchen. I have to grab your knife from the shed anyway, so I can get stuff for a blood cocktail while I’m at it. Your kind can still taste stuff, right?” As frustrated as she was with Vic, she got some satisfaction in confounding her as often as possible. “That wasn’t a request. You’re gonna deal with my rusty southern hospitality or you’re not getting that knife back. How’ve you been, anyway?”

 Vic couldn’t suppress her eye roll at the sudden change of plans.  She had not expected to be invited inside, and it threw her off completely.  At the invitation, though, she stepped through the door, her eyes quietly searching for evidence of the girlfriend Morgan spoke so fondly of.  “That wasn’t the deal”, she said, hanging by the doorframe of the kitchen.  “First it was I have to come by to get it, now we have to chit chat?”  She blinked, crossing her arms over her chest.  “I’m not thirsty, thank you.  And I’ve been great, just dandy, Morgan.”  No existential questions coursing through her brain at all hours of the night. None at all.  Her voice held a bite of sarcasm that she usually shielded Morgan from. “How about you?”  She hadn’t planned on being cross, and yet here she was pushing away the only person who’d been patient enough to listen for years.  She wanted to rip her own hair out.

 “In Texas, it’s rude to turn down hospitality, Victoria,” Morgan said. “But, if you must know, I’ve been doing alright. I’ve recently become the guardian of a really great kid, I’ve just managed to hold onto my job for another semester, and my girlfriend and I are like, pre-engaged. I don’t know if that’s a word, but I don’t know what else to call deciding we want to get married but wanting to wait for a better time to do some fancy proposal stuff. Don’t know what we’ll do about the cats whenever we eventually honeymoon but--oh!” She squealed as Moira padded up and butted her head against her legs. Morgan laughed and picked up the little cat, smiling indulgently. “But we’ll figure it out. It’s a long ways away.” She held out the cat to Vic. “Do you wanna hold her while I get the stuff? She’s real friendly and with how much me and Deirdre carry and cuddle her, she’s used to cold bodies. Doesn’t bother her a bit.” 

 “We’re not in Texas.  But I’ll be sure to remember to never relocate there.  It sounds horrible,” Vic answered, though she was slowly losing the bite and bitter tone she had first entered the home with.   She blinked in surprise at the new information, letting herself leave the doorframe and enter the room further.  She was intrigued, admittedly, and desperate to know more.  “A guardian?  For a child?”  She couldn’t imagine how something like that just fell into someone’s lap- even someone like Morgan with all her southern hospitality and gentle charm.  The next bit of information Morgan fed her was perhaps even more intriguing.  “Engaged to be married?”, she asked, wishing to clarify.  The term was so different now than it was when she had been engaged.  Barely anyone was betrothed anymore.  Instead, young people of all classes and creeds had a choice in who they spent their lives with, and even freedom to leave when things became unbearable- and with barely any societal backlash.

She had been deep in thought when the cat was held out to her, and so she leaned back suddenly, looking at it in front of her with her eyes nearly crossing to refocus.  She wasn’t sure if she trusted that the cat wouldn’t hate her- she smelled like dog and death and any cat worth her salt might be wary of such a thing.  She looked up at Morgan hesitantly before she reached out to it, pulling it against her chest immediately.  “What’s her name?”, she asked, scratching behind the small beast’s ears and pressing her lips against its head.  “And where are your w- Deirdre and child?”

 “Well, a grown child but, yeah,” Morgan said with a shrug. It still felt weird to say, and her results were definitely mixed at best so far, but playing nonchalant while Vic sputtered to catch up with what a woman’s life could be in this time gave her a shot of confidence. “And, technically not engaged because no rings, which we both want, but, I guess we have what you used to call an understanding?” She put on her best BBC voice as she said the word. “We’ve done the grownup part, but not the romantic, fluffy part. You know that’s a thing two women can do now, right? We don’t have to surrender our happiness by default, and we don’t have to hide it either.”

Her voice tapered off, softer, as she watched Vic handle the kitten. The vampire already knew where to scratch, and how to hold her, and Moira was curious and interested as ever at the prospect of making a new friend. “Her name is Moira. She’s only a year and a half old right now. Still a big baby.”

As she backed away, ready to give Vic some time to get a little less tightly wound, she couldn’t help but choke down a snort. Did she just try to call her family her women? “Uh, Bexley, the girl I take care of, is out with her girlfriend. Deirdre has a thing.  Which means you’re stuck with me. When I get back in a minute, at least. I’m sure you’ll find a way to manage, right?” She winked, then backed her way out to the garden yard. She intended to take just a little bit longer than she needed to. She wanted Vic to have the chance to feel like a person and she didn’t know if there’d ever be another one after her sort-of-friend went home.

 “However did something like that fall into your lap?”, Vic wondered curiously.  There was no way the government could just place a teenager with a stranger to be raised unless they asked for it, right?  Had Morgan been seeking out raising a child all along?  Had Vic been too self-involved to even realize that it was something so important to her?  Her focus was brought back to Morgan, and she had to press her lips together to suppress a smile at Morgan’s silly voice. “An understanding”, she repeated with a nod after she pulled herself together. “It seems that that’s what most young people come to these days before engagement.  I know- I remember when the law allowing people to get married as passed”, she recalled nonchalantly.  In truth, she had sat by her television with rapt attention that day back in 2015, unable to focus her attention on anything else until she knew what the ruling would be.  “Have you ever hidden it?”

“Moira”, she whispered, pressing her forehead into the cat’s.  “You’re rather funny looking”, she remarked, giving the beast another scratch behind her ears.  “Winnie is 5 and still a big baby.  I doubt she’ll ever grow out of it.”  Vic had been wishing to see both Morgan’s new teenager and her… betrothed, for lack of a better word, but for now she’d just have to settle for groveling for her own dagger.  Her shoulders seemed to drop when she was left alone with the cat, as if tension had physically escaped her body.  She let Moira on the table, holding up a hair elastic she had in her pocket for her to swat at.  

Moira rolled onto her back, lazily grabbing at the elastic and the tips of Vic’s fingers, eliciting a small chuckle from the woman.  “How lucky you are to live without worries”, she whispered, playing tug of war with the cat. 

 Morgan left Vic’s questions linger in the air for when she got back. She wasn’t sure if ‘fallen’ was the right word, or how to tell what had happened without sounding a little conniving, even desperate. And then the other thing. She shouldn’t have been surprised that Vic assumed she’d always been out and confident. Vic seemed to think the best and worst of everyone, whichever way kept them as far away from her as can be. 

She plucked the knife off its shelf in her shed and wrapped it up in a nice cloth and put it in the bottom of a basket, which she then piled with some bottles and then filled with blood from the murder shed. No death should go to waste, not if she could help it. 

She lingered in the entryway when she returned, beaming as she watched Vic play with Moira. Animals had a funny way of revealing people, and Moira was showing a version of Vic that had been hiding for years. “Am I interrupting?” She said, beaming. “I’ve got everything right here, but that doesn’t mean there’s any rush.” She passed Vic a bottle of blood to make her point. Relax, make yourself at home.

“Also, I owe you some answers: the twenty-something kid is…complicated. We weren’t actively looking for each other, but we had similar social circles, she was my student for a semester, and she was staying with me here for a while before anything became even semi official. We just sort of…fit. Little by little. I feel kind of unfairly lucky to have her around.” Morgan shrugged it off, not wanting to get into her shortcomings. This talk wasn’t about her. “And as for the other thing: yes, I hid myself a lot and very well. The area I grew up in wasn’t kind to people like us, but thanks to ignorance, most assumed that a woman who likes flowers and dresses could never be one of them. And I say this casually now, because I’m out and I’ve slept around and dated, and now I’m this—” She gestured vaguely to the house, the frame of her life. “But that doesn’t mean those years didn’t kill little parts of me every day, parts that’ll never grow back. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t lonely and dark, or that I didn’t ever wake up hating the world almost as much as I hated myself. It just means the hurt has scarred over, and I get to be a whole person now. And I need you to know that you can be a whole person too, Victoria.”

 “Yes”, Vic teased, albeit pulling the elastic back from the creature, choosing instead to scratch behind her ears again.  She gazed inside the basket, her eyes searching for the dagger.  When the bottle was placed in front of her, she closed her eyes and swallowed, only opening them again to gaze at Morgan.  “Was this harvested ethically?”, she asked, her hand wrapping tentatively around the bottle.

She didn’t feed in front of people- she didn’t much like to feed at all, truthfully.  It felt animalistic and vulgar and monstrous to do it so callously, but Morgan seemed to expect her to drink right here, as if they were simply eating lunch in the park together.  Didn’t she see it was so much more horrible than that?

Her hand flexed and tightened around the bottle as she listened to Morgan explain.  “A found family”, she clarified with a nod, having heard the term more than once but never really grasping what it could mean.  “Is Deirdre also comfortable with this arrangement?”, she wondered.  Her explanation of her youth was a lot easier to comprehend- a life hidden and masked was definitely something she relate to.  “How old were you?”, she started.  “How old were you when you decided to let people know?”

She looked away as Morgan concluded her speech, leaning back in her chair in shaking her head.  “I’ve been hiding parts about me and letting them die since long before I realized I’m attracted to women, Morgan”, she explained, her eyes distant as if she were remembering some far away memory.  “It’s not just… that. It’s not as simple as you want it to be.  I can’t just undo who I’ve become.  Not after 400 years.”

 “It’s not human if that’s what you mean,” Morgan said with a roll of her eyes. “What kind of person do you take me for? It’s a very nice deer from yesterday, hit by a truck and left by the road. A fine vintage in the world of animal blood.” She watched Vic wrestle with this knowledge, or maybe just being treated as a person and a vampire at the same time, and sat back, making herself comfortable. 

“Deirdre’s fine. She’s...we’re not doing this particular thing together, per se, we’re in different places as far as that’s concerned, but she doesn’t resent me or the girl and she does care for her well in her own way. I don’t know what more I could ask for.” She sighed, feeling the space between all she knew she could have and all she wanted and all she dared not ask for. 

Vic’s next question took her out of her thoughts. She straightened and looked at the woman, her expression plain, her voice frank. “I was eighteen when I told my mother, because I thought my gayness was causing the literal curse that brought suffering to my family, that it was the reason my dad had died driving me to work. And I was twenty-four when I went to my first women’s only gay bar. And I was thirty, when I stopped being too scared to let women get close to me at all. It’s not something that happens all at once for anyone, I don’t think. So even if it is simple, or straightforward if you prefer, it’s not easy. A lot of straightforward things are really, really hard and that’s why we come up with complicated ways of getting around them. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try, Victoria. You can always make new choices.”

 With a lick of her lips, Vic let herself fully grip the bottle at the new information, her fingers fully wrapping around it as the need to study it dissipated.  “Okay”, she said hushed and tentatively.  Her eyes watched Morgan’s as she brought the bottle to her lips, but she put it down before she let herself take a sip.  She didn’t like to eat in front of anyone because for one, not many of the few people she let into her personal life actually knew what she was.  It was easier to keep it a secret, because the opposite would most likely mean losing them anyway.  But two, there was so much wrongness associated with it.  So much death and hurt and pain and… shame.  It made her feel vulnerable in a way she didn’t appreciate, and vulnerability in front of anyone was a recipe for disaster. 

And then there was the issue of fangs and red eyes while she was feeding.

It was too much, especially for Morgan to see her like that.  Like the monster she was deep down inside.  She let go of the bottle, choosing to cross her arms casually on the table instead as Morgan explained more.  

“She seems incredibly understanding”, Vic remarked, sitting back a bit in her chair.  She wanted to ask ‘Do you think she would like me?’, but it felt childish to ask something so frivolous.  It felt childish to care.  

As she listened to Morgan, her expression crumpled into one of sympathy.  “It must have been an incredibly awful burden to feel that way, Morgan.  Of course it wasn’t, you know that now, right?  I mean… to me it seems…”, she paused, gesturing around Morgan’s kitchen, “that all of this is because of who you are, not in spite of it.”  Morgan had a way of waxing poetry with her words, an artist in her own rite.  But her poetry couldn’t bend reality, not always.

“New choices, like putting an end to turning vampires in to hunters?”  She knew this is the conversation they’d been dancing around all along- the reason why she’d attacked Morgan in the woods and the reason she couldn’t face her after.  She knew the whole truth now, besides the details, and it was clear she didn’t approve.  “I decided after ten years that I’d make up for the monstrosities that come with being who I am now forced to be.  And the only way I know how to do that is by doing what I’m doing, Morgan.  Who am I if I just let myself be one of them?”

 Morgan saw Vic’s hesitance to drink and met her eyes sympathetically. Apropos of nothing, she rose when the woman finished, saying, “I think I need a snack too, actually.” One Pyrex of brain balls later, she was back, and nibbling on them with the help of a kebab skewer. After some more silence, she found the words she was looking for, or at least the only ones she knew she was going to find.

“It was terrible, yes. And even after I found out that, no, we were cursed because my great grandmother Agnes pissed off the wrong witch, eighteen years of hating myself didn’t just disappear. Sometimes I wondered if the curse made me gay so I could suffer more, and worse. That isn’t true either, but my point is: it took time and therapy doing things differently for me to figure that out. And yes, I think not conspiring to murder every vampire you meet might help you figure things out. I think not lumping yourself in with the people who wronged you would help. What I really think will help is admitting that every sapient vampire is as different from each other as you and I are. You are smarter than reducing your world to a flat simplicity for the sake of convenience. And I think you can be braver than that too. I think you might even want to be.” 

Another long, thoughtful bite of brains.

“Who is it that you think you’re being forced to be? You’re in control of your own choices, what monstrosities are there for you to ‘let’ yourself do that you don’t want?”

 There were two deliberate blinks from Vic; the first one of confusion, and the second of understanding.  Morgan was showing her that it was okay, in her own way. Their diets weren’t all that dissimilar, and neither was the way of acquiring them, she supposed.  Was hers really all that worse simply because she was a vampire?  This wasn’t a question that would have even crossed her mind a month ago.  

Letting out a slow breath, she built up the courage to grip the bottle again, taking a sip before she had the mind to stop herself.  Her eyes changed rather quickly, she was sure, and she could feel the fangs sprouting from her mouth; always so ready to reveal what she truly was.  Her mind flashed back to the early days after she was first turned, when she would stubbornly stare into mirrors for hours at a time, as if looking long enough might change the lack of reflection that stared back at her. Later, when she’d finally succumbed to feeding, her sire taunted her with the description of how she looked during (a punishment, she was sure, for her insistence that she would see her own reflection again). She spent years smashing every mirror she found after that. 

She hoped Morgan wouldn’t bring attention to it.   

“But the curse… is it over now?”, she asked, concerned.  Morgan was right that years of self-loathing didn’t just go away because you wanted it to, but the thought of going to therapy about such a thing felt so foreign to her.  “I’m not murdering anyone.  I’m a middle man”, she insisted, her body becoming rigid.  “Do you think hunters are murderers?”

“Forced to be a ...vampire, I mean.  I didn’t ask to become this, Morgan.   I would have much rather… I was so close to d-...”.  Vic swallowed, closing her eyes before taking another sip from the bottle.  “This wasn’t who I was meant to become.  This isn’t the Twilight, Morgan.  We do not sparkle in the sun and attend high school classes.  You wouldn’t believe… the thoughts that ran through my head when I was first turned.  The ones that do now if I don’t feed often enough.  They’re not natural...they’re not right.  And what if stopping all vampires I can is the only way I can stop myself from becoming who those thoughts want me to be?”

 “Oh, yeah, it’s very over. Witch magic fades after death, so after the ghost-girl who cursed us killed me a year and a half ago—” Morgan made an open gesture. “No more curse. No more magic. Just one zombie girl. Also, I would like to point out that I said conspiring to murder. Which, you have to admit fits the bill, right? And yes, I think hunters are murderers. All of them. Even the ones I like. If they intentionally kill a sapient being, they’re murderers. Some murders are…’necessary’ for lack of a better word. Because some people will refuse any solution that doesn’t end in death. But just because Vampire Serial Killer Number One won’t stop until they make someone stop them, doesn’t make what happens to that vampire anything but murder. If you’re going to extinguish a life from this world, you need to admit it and carry it. And I say that as someone who has murdered several people.” The soft humor her words had started with faded as she went on. By the time she stopped to pause, she could barely keep her eyes on Vic. This was bad, bad, dangerous shit to be admitting to. And even though she could fight, even though everyone knew where she was and who she was meeting with, Morgan’s cold blood prickled into ice under her skin with fear. 

She swallowed a lump in her throat (guilt; even if she didn’t have regrets for all of her crimes, she definitely had guilt) and pressed onto everything else Vic had brought up. “What you are isn’t who you are. And I get it, I do. I didn’t ask to be what I am either, and I spent a long time wishing that I hadn’t. That I had just died. It wasn’t a bad death. It was better than whatever’s waiting for me now. And it would have hurt so much less. And I didn’t feel like Morgan Beck, witch and teacher and chronic mess. She died, and I—this person who used to be her and will become someone else—woke up. But who I am, Morgan Beck the Second, the Undead, is not defined or limited by what I eat or what happened to me.” Slowly, she reached out a hand for Vic’s. “I don’t know if you know this, but zombies are born starving. And when we starve, the world is…small and clear. There’s one feeling, something strong and powerful and good and sick, and all you have to do is try to satisfy it. The ground is just a path to feeding. The wind is just a hindrance, or something that carries the smell. We don’t even think, really, we just do. And the early cravings…sometimes, I could feel it coming. Like having a second voice in my head, another shadow, something that took people apart like they were pieces of cow at the butcher, something that remembered what parts taste best, after brains, of course. And I live in fear of that…impulse, that piece of me. But I also live knowing that it isn’t me.” Reaching out farther, in earnest now, she looked into Vic’s eyes, pleading, “Is there anything you thought when you were young and lost and hungry that’s so different from what I did? And—-who told you that exterminating someone else will change something that’s a part of you? It won’t. You can’t change yourself by killing or erasing other people. You can’t change yourself with all the hatred in the world. You’ve had four hundred years; if it was possible, that would’ve happened by now. So what if—what if the way to become someone you like and can be proud of is to accept that you’re a real person who can be kind of wonderful when she gets out of her own way?”

 “Oh, it was her who-...  That makes sense.”  Vic blinked, processing what Morgan was saying to her.  After a long pause, she responded.  “I suppose, if that’s the sort of cut and dry definition we’re using, that would make me a murderer, too.”  She didn’t break eye contact with Morgan until the other woman looked away, and even then she still studied her face.  “In the beginning.  I didn’t know there was any other way to be.  And, well-  ...I suppose I murdered my sire as well.”  Her eyes fell back to her hands at that, as if she could witness herself doing it all over again.  There was no shame associated with what she did to her sire, but her stomach did flip flops at admitting it outloud.  How sweet it had felt when her thirst for revenge was finally satisfied.  How sick she felt to revel in that sweetness.  With a look back up at Morgan, it appeared she might have been experiencing a similar back and forth about her own murders.

It would have hurt so much less.  That was a thought that Vic had never heard articulated into words before.  Wishing for death felt so morbid and wrong, but had she been allowed to succumb to it, the hurt could have ended right then.  And for so long, she was sure she was alone in that feeling.  There were thousands of vampires and zombies walking around as if everything were perfect- like they were happy their life had turned into an afterlife.  Vic couldn’t believe how affirming it was to hear someone share her sentiments.  She looked down at the hand that settled into hers and listened and listened and listened as more of Morgan’s experiences seemed to mesh with her own, mixing and swirling like paint on a paper, until you could no longer differentiate between the two unless you tried your hardest.

She looked up into Morgan’s eyes, fresh tears prickling at her own.  She shook her head at the question posed, though it was slight and small, and if Morgan blinked, she would have missed it.  Nothing was different about their origins, not really.  Not when you dug deep and looked at them transparently.  

There was a long, teary pause before she finally answered again.  It was a collection of composure, more than anything.  “I wouldn’t even know how I would begin to stop what I do, Morgan.  I’ve hurt… so many people.  And interacted with so many slayers who would do the same to me if they found out the truth.”

 “I know,” Morgan said, coming around close to Vic and pulling her into a hug. “I’m not saying it won’t be hard or that it won’t hurt in its own way. But I am saying that it will be better than where you are right now. And you are a person who deserves a chance of happiness and peace and love. And you can be forgiven. And you can choose different for yourself. I’m saying you’re worth trying for. Okay?”

Against her better judgement, Vic let herself melt into the hug.  She let Morgan’s words cover her like a blanket, warm and reassuring and hopeful.  She wanted to believe what she was saying- that if she tried hard enough, everything could be okay, somehow.  It seemed much more likely that Morgan was wrong, but in that moment, she didn’t care.  She was seen.  Her experiences, as wild as it sounded, weren’t only her own.  And as she and Morgan held each other, Vic realized that that might have been the biggest evidence of hope she could ask for.

“Okay.  I’ll try.”

[saladejin]

Admire | 04

Seokjin x Fem!Reader | arranged marriage!au, husband!Seokjin | Strangers to lovers, angst, self discovery, loneliness in luxury, touch starvation (eventual smut), eventual domestic fluff

Summary: You’d never needed anyone else. Growing up alone, living alone, existing alone. It all came naturally and effortlessly, quite like breathing. That was until your somewhat distant parents finally decided it was time to make good on a promise. One they’d made before you were even born.

Warnings: Brief mentions of semi-absent parents

Word Count: 2k

A/N:  Hey there, this is just a short chapter I decided to post as a bridge to the next part of the story-line. Hope you enjoy :)

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“I know that you’re living a different life now (Y/n), but you still can’t skip out on the annual summer road trip,” your mother’s voice chided. You held the phone away from your ear slightly to avoid bursting your own eardrums.

“But - am I just meant to go on my own and leave the house? The road trips aren’t exactly meant for…”

You trailed off with a weird strangled noise in your throat, knowing that saying ‘people like him’ would only sound bad. Seokjin looked up at the changing tone of your voice, eyeing you with an intense curiosity. There was no way he didn’t pick up that it was him you were referring to.

You had been sitting together at the dining table, feasting on an old-style Italian pasta dish you’d decided to whip up right before your mother called. It was one of the only times you two had actually eaten together since getting married, as you usually just ordered food whenever you were hungry or ate out somewhere his driver would take you.

You had just been shocked that the stoic man agreed to share what you’d made in the first place.

“He can come along, no worries. I’ve already told the guide that you’d be bringing your husband anyway, since I just assumed he’d go with you,” your mother said in a dismissive tone, seemingly distracted on the other end.

Shit, right. We’re meant to be in love.

“Okay, but it’s going to be pretty different to what we’ve been doing so far.” You sighed, thinking about all the high-class parties you’d attended in the last few months, twirling some pasta around your fork absent-mindedly. Seokjin was going to be way out of his element here.

“Then it’s settled, you leave in a couple of days. Remember the meeting spot?”

“Yes, Mum. Bye then.”

You hung up the phone and sunk back into the chair across from Seokjin, exchanging his look with one fizzling with tension. Not one of you had touched your food since you took the call.

“You going to tell me what that was about?” he hummed after eventually moving to swallow down the last of his meal with a satisfied sigh.

“Yeah, just trying to figure out how to tell you.”

He seemed a tad concerned, but didn’t push any further. You sat and brooded with your thoughts for another minute or so before running your hands slowly through your hair in exasperation. You could almost laugh at how strange this was going to be for him.

“Okay so we do this thing every year, although my parents don’t usually go, where our extended family and friends have a summer road trip out to the countryside and sometimes stop by the beach. It’s kind of like a break from the busy lives they all lead, and it’s … such a big difference from their wealthy lifestyles,” you explained, not catching any change in facial expression from the handsome man across from you.

“So … I used to tag along because like you just heard, my mother nags me to go, and the trips always turned out being not half bad. If anything, I enjoyed getting out and seeing the different ways of life the people there lived. It was a nice change of scenery too.”

You realized you were ranting and cleared your throat, pushing your half empty bowl away from you. Seokjin looked like he was pondering again, but you were already guessing the thought of a road trip probably put him off terribly.

“Look, my mother said you’d come along but no one’s going to force you. It’s just a getaway thing that lasts for a couple of weeks, I wouldn’t be gone for too long. Maybe you could attend a party or ball by yourself for once, it’d make everything much easier for you-”

“I’ll go.”

You blinked at him in shock, but he only gazed back with a spark of interest flashing in his dark eyes. The raw emotion was such a rarity for him that you had to blink again to snap out of the awed emotion that was now warming up your cheeks.

“You will?” you squeaked, hating how high your voice had pitched itself.

“Yeah, I don’t want life to get boring. I’ve never done something like this, so I’ll see how it goes,” he replied simply, a small smile resting on his lips as he took in your expression alighting with appreciation. Was he always this adventurous? Maybe deep down, there were sides to this man you had yet to discover.

“Well, we leave in a couple of days. I can tell the driver the meeting location and everything… uh, are you sure?”

“Yes, (Y/n).”

You got up from your seat and swept up your dishes, feeling an odd excitement flood your whole chest at the prospect of going on a retreat with Seokjin. Getting to spend some time with the man who was slowly but surely warming up to you was such a promising idea. Plus, lately you’d been wanting to get closer to him. Your need for pure company was becoming overwhelming.

You wanted your own husband to be the person you could turn to when you needed attention … but after giving it too much thought, you knew that there was no way he’d care enough to want to put up with that. It was borderline foolish of you.

“So, you didn’t really go on many holidays?” you probed quietly after rinsing the bowls. He’d shifted himself from the table to one of the kitchen stools to watch you work. You felt oddly comfortable under his searching gaze, even if you did look quite average in your tracksuit pants and simple white tee.

“If my father’s business trips count?” Seokjin snorted in dry humour. You could tell he was legitimately curious about the whole road trip thing, which was so baffling to you considering he’d barely tried to ask you about your life at all.

“Well, what did you do on those trips?”

You wiped your dripping hands on a dish cloth and sat across from him, only the sparkling white benchtop separating the two of you. You had been spending a fair amount time in this position during the past week or so, and it filled you with joy having these longer interactions with him whenever it happened.

“My father would take my brothers and I when we were younger to his workplaces. Teaching us his ways and getting us prepared for when we would take on jobs at the firm. My mother did her own thing, but would only talk to us about what we’d done that day. Maybe there was the occasional shopping trip for new clothes, but both parents were busy most of the time,” he said rather sourly.

Seokjin was obviously tired of having to spend so much of his life pleasing his own mother and father. You couldn’t have imagined how repetitive it all must have been, then again you didn’t really know what it was like spending time with your own parents in the first place.

“Can you tell me what you used to do, then?” he asked suddenly. You raised your eyebrows in disbelief, because he was asking about you, but then you felt bad for painting him in such a bad light. He wasn’t a terrible person; he just hadn’t engaged this much before. That’s why you were taken so off guard when he looked at you straight in the eyes and asked you the question so calmly.

“Um, yeah of course.” You smiled as the feeling of warmth enveloped your very soul, “So… since I never went on business travels with my parents, the only form of a holiday I ever experienced were these trips. They helped me relax and took my mind away from everything.”

You breathed out deeply at the memory of the countryside breeze, and the feeling of the piping hot beach sand crunching underneath your toes. You could only imagine the feeling of the sun’s rays kissing your skin as Seokjin watched in a mildly fascinated state.

“We’d travel as a large group in separate motorhomes – by the way we’ll most likely get one to ourselves – and stop in many small towns along the way. We’d go on walks and find lovely spots to eat lunch, and we’d visit special lookouts along with other cool cultural sites. The best thing was when you got the day to just venture through the place on your own, doing whatever you wanted and exploring the country.”

You unclasped your hands and let your voice die in your throat, not wanting to subject the man to more of your wistful reminiscing. He was hearing all about memories you held close to your heart, because throughout your school years the travelling was what’d kept your mind relaxed and stress-free.

“Sounds like it’ll be interesting for me. You said we’ll be given a motorhome, so we’re the ones driving?” he questioned quietly, almost as if he didn’t expect you to cut yourself off so soon.

“Yeah, I grew up with that brand of vehicle so I can do most of the driving. I’ve got my license,” you assured, barely stifling a giggle as you recalled memories of learning how to drive a motorhome for the first time.

“We can take turns,” he replied shortly, raising a strong eyebrow at you as if daring you to challenge him. You nodded in a slight daze of shock.

So you can drive too, huh.

You never would have guessed, after knowing that the handsome man had been chauffeured around basically his whole life. What need would he even have for a driver’s license?

“Well, I’m going to bed. I’ll start packing for this trip, just let me know if I need anything else,” Seokjin announced with a grunt as he slid off the chair and made his way around the bench to stand before you. He was dressed pretty casually as well, with a light blue button-up shirt hanging over grey trousers, but he still looked so unfairly tasteful.

“The only thing I’ll really say is just bring casual, but comfortable clothes. Oh, and a hat or cap if you have one,” you said, feeling giddy with anticipation for the holiday already. He nodded to acknowledge the advice, resting his weight onto one foot and pursing his thick lips as he thought about if he did, in fact, own a hat.

“Goodnight then,” you spoke after feeling something strange wash over you. This random urge to show him how elated you truly were. Your steps were bouncy and full of life, similar to the fitful pounding of your heart that felt full to the brim.

You stepped forward and placed your hands upon his crossed arms, then stood on your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his smooth cheek. He didn’t jerk away or tell you off, just stood rigidly still for a few seconds before leaving the room to head to bed. It was only after he was gone that it finally hit you.

No way… did I just do that? Did I actually just freaking do that?

Your face erupted into a fiery crimson blush and you almost slammed your head down into the benchtop below you. All the couple-like actions you both performed at the parties must have made themselves a habit of yours, and since you’d been feeling so happy the desire to kiss him just leapt out.

“Idiot, oh my God,” you whimpered to yourself, busying your hands by cleaning the rest of the kitchen in a hurry. The fact that he hadn’t said a single thing scared you. Did he hate it? Or did he like it, or did he just not care? There was no way of knowing!

You scurried off to your room and heard the door shut behind you a little louder than normal. Your embarrassment was flowing thickly through your veins at this point. You just needed to bury your head under the covers and forget that the whole thing happened.

It wouldn’t take long for him to forget, right?

Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.

[thewickedkings]

Between the Two of Us ~ Chapter 3

Masterlist || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Summary: Jurdan High school AU. Rivals Jude and Cardan are forced to partner up for a history project, and drama ensues. Filled with banter, pranks, an unhealthy amount of pining, and Jude being clueless as usual.

Trigger Warnings: I don’t think there’s anything so far, but please let me know if there’s anything I missed!

The car ride with Cardan was strangely quiet. Other than asking where she needed to be dropped off, Cardan remained silent. It seemed that besides arguing, they didn’t have much to say to each other.

The radio hummed in the background, and Jude let herself relax into her seat.

Cardan sat lazily in the driver’s seat, one hand draped on the wheel. With the afternoon sunlight highlighting the planes of his face, Jude glanced at Cardan and found herself strangely curious about his life. She wondered what he would do after dropping her off, how he spent his weekends, who he spent his weekends with.

She wondered if he was still dating Nicasia, the girl he had dated since sophomore year. She’d heard rumors they’d broken up. Nicasia was the only girl he’d ever seriously dated besides the series of girls he’d flirted with. She hated how easily they fell for his charm, but she knew better.

Jude shook the thoughts from her head, annoyed at herself for thinking about Cardan. It was probably the stress from the past week getting to her. Between school and soccer practice and now work, Jude’s semester had been jam-packed.

Once she got to college though, things would change. She would let herself make friends and have fun and be normal. She could reinvent herself as someone people could like. Then she would finally be happy, because it was a path for herself that she had paved on her own, that she had control of. For now, she would just trudge through high school so she could get into college and finally move out.

Cardan turned into the parking lot of the café, and Jude was suddenly overwhelmed with a random burst of apprehension. She had quit her last job at an ice cream parlor because of her coworker, Valerian. At first, he used her to blame for his own mistakes. And because she was new, the boss took his word. Then came the prickling glances and veiled threats, the lingering gazes on the back of her neck, watching her for any mistakes.

She remembered those fearful late nights when the store had emptied, leaving her alone with him, and shivered. Though she hadn’t let her fear show, it seeped through her veins, keeping her on high alert when she had shifts with him. She had hated the feeling of powerlessness, the inability to grasp control of the situation, and eventually quit before Valerian got her fired and ruined her future job prospects. She desperately wanted this job to be better.

Cardan parked the car, pulling her out of her anxious spiral. She fidgeted with the zipper on her wallet, not wanting to go inside just yet. For some reason, Cardan’s car seemed a better option than facing her first day at work.

Cardan turned to look at her expectantly, and Jude slid on her unworried, confident mask like a second skin. And yet she felt like his gaze could see right through her, see that what she showed to the world wasn’t always the truth.

She cleared her throat. “Thanks for driving me.”

“No problem.” He paused. “I’d say good luck, but I don’t think you need it.”

Her lips quirked up in a hint of a smile, slightly surprised that Cardan knew exactly what she needed to hear in that moment.

She exhaled, reached for the door handle, and stepped out. Cardan looked like he wanted to say more, but then closed his mouth. Suddenly feeling awkward, Jude quickly shut the door behind her with a quick “thanks again” and walked to the entrance.

 ~~~

Her first day at work was way better than she could have expected. Her boss told her to shadow her new coworker for her first few shifts until she got the hang of the job. Her coworker, who introduced herself as the Bomb, had a cloud of white hair that contrasted with her flawless brown skin, and she radiated a sense of genuineness that Jude instantly liked.

As she showed Jude how to make different beverages, Jude couldn’t help but ask, “So what’s with the name?” She winced, realizing how rude that had probably sounded. She definitely wasn’t a very good people person.

But the Bomb just smiled at her, unfazed. “Real name’s Liliver. I accidently, um, made the blender explode, as one does, so I got stuck with the Bomb,” she said sheepishly.

Jude snorted.

“I’m lucky I got a ‘cool’ one, I guess,” she continued. “You’ll meet my friends the Roach and the Ghost in your next shifts. It’s kind of our thing. Stay here long enough and you’ll get one too.”

Jude felt a little intimidated by their already established friendship, but the Bomb was nice enough, so she figured she wouldn’t hate working with the Roach and the Ghost.

After the Bomb went through the steps of a few of the most popular drinks, she demonstrated how to work the register as she took a customer’s order. Jude caught on pretty quickly, and the Bomb left her to man the register while she made some drinks.

She breathed in the comforting smell of coffee and let her nerves settle. She could get used to this place. The small store was the definition of cozy, with booths to the side and elegant greenery adorning the back wall of the shop. A couple students sat on the bar stools next to the counter, backpacks tucked underneath their seats.

The door to the coffee shop opened, and her eyes shifted to the guy with orangish brown hair who had just walked in.

He approached the counter, and Jude was surprised to realize it was Locke, one of Cardan’s lackeys. Jude automatically tensed. Although he hadn’t outright bullied her in middle school, he hadn’t opposed to it when Cardan and his friends did. He’d matured since then, at least from what Jude could tell, and mostly just left her alone.

Even though he was always the least cruel of Cardan’s little group, she was still surprised when he smiled at her and slid into the bar stool in front of her.

“Hey, Jude. Didn’t know you worked here.”

Jude was even more surprised that he recognized who she was so quickly. Most people from school just called her Duarte instead of trying to figure out which twin she was. “Yeah, it’s my first day. I haven’t really got the hang of making the drinks yet, but I can take your order.”

After Locke rattled off his order and paid, he took the bar stool nearest to her and said, “So, I saw your last soccer game. You literally saved the game with that last goal. Didn’t you were that good.”

Jude knew she was good, but she took the compliment anyway. “Thanks. I’ve been playing since freshman year, so you could say I’ve improved.”

“Yeah, you definitely have,” he replied, giving her a charming smile.

Jude’s brain came up with the sudden, unbidden realization that he was kind of cute. Distracted, she fumbled for a response. “Yeah, I guess.”

Before an awkward silence could set in, Locke asked, “So… how’s your history project coming along? You figure out what your topic is?”

Again, Jude was surprised he’d noticed they were in the same class. They literally never talked. “Yeah, Cardan and I figured out our outline.”

Locke’s eyebrows flew up. “I forgot you were working with him. How’s that going?”

Jude smiled at that. “It’s going. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be, but I don’t know how long that will last.”

“I’m just surprised you didn’t already murder him.”

Jude let out a laugh at that. “I mean, we’ll see. We still have the rest of the semester.”

Locke grinned at her, and Jude’s neck heated. Before she could think of what that meant, the Bomb called her.

“Jude, drink’s ready!”

Jude walked across to her to get Locke’s coffee.

The Bomb leaned over her and asked her in a low voice, “Who’s the guy?”

“Just someone I know from school. We’ve never really talked until now.”

“Well, he’s clearly interested.”

Jude looked up at her, surprised. “Really?”

“I’ve seen so many meet cutes here that I’ve practically become an expert.”

Jude looked at her incredulously. “You could tell he was interested from one two-second conversation?”

The Bomb just rolled her eyes at her and pushed her back towards Locke. “Trust me. Now go, before it becomes obvious we’re talking about him.”

Jude walked back over to Locke and handed him the drink.

“Thanks.” He got up and picked up his keys. “I’ll see you at your game next week?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

He shot her a smile over his shoulder as he walked out the café.

Jude took the next customer’s order with a newfound spirit, and the Bomb smirked at her knowingly. Maybe this job wouldn’t be too bad after all.

Here’s chapter three!! Let me know what you think :) Yes, yes, I know, Locke sucks, but we’ll get some good JurdanTM content next chapter. Thanks for reading!

Tagging: (Bolded tags didn’t work. I don’t know why, it might be your settings or just tumblr acting up, but I’ll tag you in the comments for now! If I forgot to tag you our messed something up, just send me an ask and I’ll fix it as soon as I can!)

@jurdan7 @cardan-greenbriar-tcp  @amoosewithflannelforfur @aneuwin @mercrutiodidntdieforthis  @hizqueen4life @mi-mavencalories @simonelovesff @b00kworm @nope-has-lied @andromeddea @aesthetics-11 @queen-of-glass @runnybabbit9  @afexiss @the-keen-queen @yesimtheslytherinwitch @fizziefaerie @abigneignenn @storiesandschemes  @aelin-queen-of-terrasen​ @words-of-the-wise @thedazzlingheights @magicalbookwyvern @kittkatandbooboo @queen-of-no1 @iminsanenotobsessed @dorkzrul @snusbandxknifewife  @aknymph

[iplaymatchmaker]

hello and good day! i would like a matchup for a3! and ikerev, please! she/her pronouns. you can call me juice, though! hm i think a good description of me personality wise would be im usually cheerful, friendly, childish but i tend to hide a lot of my negative feelings and overthink quite a lot. towards others i'm always curious about the littlest details of someone's hobbies or interest and sometimes i talk more than i listen. love literature and things like fashion or games (1)

Hello, thanks for requesting juice! Sorry for the long wait but I hope you enjoy it! I was pretty excited to write a match up for a3! since it’s been living rent free in my head for the last few weeks. I got a little carried away with the last prompt cause it was so fun to write, but I hope you like it! Also, the ikerev one might take some time but I’ll try to not take too long. Have fun!

I match you with

Tsuzuru!

The two of you first meet after you watch one of their plays, “A Clockwork Heart.” When you realize that the lead and writer is a classmate of yours from college you can’t help but approach him a few days later to discuss the play further.

He seems self conscious at first but quickly opens up as the two of you discuss his script and before you know it one conversation has turned into an in-depth discussion over lunch.

After that first encounter, both of you start talking more often, quickly growing closer. Tsuzuru appreciates your cheerful attitude, making it easy for him to be comfortable around you.

Considering your love for literature, you often help him brainstorm for new ideas, always looking forward to seeing how he brings it to life on stage.

It is easy for you to fit in with the rest of the boys from Mankai, despite their constant prying on your relationship with Tsuzuru. After all the time the two of you spend together, it is no surprise when none of the boys (except Azami) bat an eyelash when you make it official, after a lot of back and forth between friendship and romance.

Prompt: Bonding

“The reason S was created in the first place was because Luke needed a companion. It’s tragic that he was the one who left him in the end.”

“Well, yes, but he also taught him to open up to people, insuring that he wouldn’t be alone when he was gone.”

You and Tsuzuru had been discussing the end of his latest play “A Clockwork Heart” for a while, arguing over whether or not the ending was tragic. When you approached him to offer your praise for his work earlier that day you hadn’t been expecting him to engage in your opinions on a play he wrote, but he was actually deeply invested in the conversation, despite the matter at hand being trivial to the actual substance of the story.

“He couldn’t have known though. He also put his own wishes aside to protect him. That alone makes the ending tragic.” You vividly remembered the tears you had shed when the show reached its climax, a result of both his script and his acting.

“It depends on your idea of what the ending was. S was a machine, so as long as Luke was alive they could meet again, when it was safe for the both of them. That makes the ending-“

Ring Ring

You almost chucked at the generic sound his phone made as it vibrated.

“Give me a sec.” he moved away from the bench before answering. It wasn’t long before he returned, a flush expression on his face.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize I had kept you for so long. I actually need to get going.” He ran a hand through his hair, smiling shyly. It was only then that you noticed what time it was.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to bother you for that long!” Now you were both flushed, the realization dawning on you that you had spent two hours talking.

“I-it’s fine. Um, we can continue this tomorrow, if you’d like?” you were surprised he actually wanted to talk again, a smile spreading over your face.

“Definitely. “

“Okay. See you then!” he waved as he ran off while simultaneously trying to dial someone, resulting in him almost falling on his face. You looked forward to tomorrow.

After that first encounter, you continued to meet during lunch to talk about other works, quickly realizing you had a similar taste in books and movies. It was an easy transition, going from acquaintances to friends.

“How’s the summer troupe’s play coming along?” It was easy to tell that he had been losing sleep again from the – almost – comical black circle under his eyes, but you asked anyway, hoping that you could offer some help.

“I know what I want to write, the words are just refusing to form and settle themselves on the page.” The frustration was evident on his face as he tried to put the pieces flying around his head in order. You tried to think of a way to help him but you knew that he needed to figure this out on his own.

“Come on.” You forcefully pulled him out of his chair, carefully shutting his laptop.

“W-wait. Where are we going?” you pushed him along, despite his protesting.

“Trust me.” You flashed him your biggest smile before setting of, only mildly aware that your hand was still around his wrist.

“The movies?” he seemed confused over what your objective was but you were confident it would help him out of his slump.

“Yes. Come on, I’ll even get us popcorn!” you were beaming as you led him inside.

“What are we watching?” Tsuzuru, finally resigned to his fate, flipped through the leaflet, looking at the moves currently playing.

“Your choice, I’m fine with whatever.” You hurried to the bar to pick up snacks, leaving him at the ticket booth.

“Look at those effects.”

“The acting is top notch.”

Tsuzuru had been so immersed in the movie he seemed to have forgotten all about his tiredness. When you exited the theatre you could practically see the gears turning in his head.”

“It’s a very different take on pirates than the summer troupe’s play, but if I exaggerate the characters even more then there would be great opportunity for comedy.” You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you as you observed him, completely lost in his own mind.

“So I take it the creative juices are flowing again?” he looked back at you, as if seeing you clearly for the first time in days.

“Yes! Thank you!” He put his arms around you, too far lost in his excitement to feel any awkwardness.

“I-I have to go write! I’ll see you tomorrow.” He continued shouting thank you over his shoulder as he run off with newfound energy. You expected you wouldn’t see him the next day, considering he’d probably be passed out by then, but you smiled anyway.

“See you later!”

Prompt : Cinderella:

“So, you’re thinking of doing Cinderella for the next play?” You and Tsuzuru were hanging out in his room, taking full advantage of Masumi’s absence that weekend.

“Yeah… I’m not sure how to go about it though. Everyone in the Spring Troupe agreed that I should be lead this time around but I just don’t see myself in the shoes of a prince… Itaru would probably be a better fit for the role.” You couldn’t help throwing a pillow his way.

“Hey! What was that for?” You sat up a little straighter, tempted to glare at him until he picked up on your annoyance.

“I can definitely picture you in the role of the prince.” You cleared your throat before switching to your best narrator voice.

A long, long time ago there lived a boy and a girl. They were the best of friends when they were children. The boy would often sneak out to meet with her and they would play for hours. But their happiness would not last long.

You see, the girl grew up to be the maid of one of the less-fortunate royal families in the kingdom. She had been forced into that position by her father’s latest wedding. It would also turn out to be his last, for he died a few years later, leaving her in the care of a wicked stepmother.

One the other hand, the boy grew up to be the most charming prince in the land. The women fawned over him and he always had everything his heart could desire.”

“I’m literally none of those things.”

“Fine then.”

The prince was an idiot who didn’t know how to take care of himself and never asked for help. He constantly worried his friends over his health but they loved him anyway.

“That’s not any better…”

“Shh, let me continue the story.”

Their difference in class ripped the two friends apart, putting an end to their relationship. While they weren’t allowed to meet again, they promised to never forget about each other. To keep that promise, the made matching bracelets and agreed to never take them off until they could meet again.

“Friendship bracelets? Who does that?”

“They were kids! Would you have preferred rings?”

“Wouldn’t those basically be promise rings?”

“I’m coming up with this on the spot, give me a break!”

That bracelet was what gave the girl the strength to continue living, despite her struggles.

When news of a ball arrived at the estate, her step-sisters were quick to start preparations, eager to have a chance at the prince’s hand in marriage. The girl was simply happy at the prospect of seeing her friend again.

When her family found out she was planning to attend the ball, they locked her in the cellar, not willing to risk any competition. The girl wept and wept, until suddenly a kind seeming lady appeared in front of her.

“Isn’t this just the movie?”

“Give it a second!”

The lady promised she would help her get to the ball if that was what she wished. Despite her suspicions, the girl earnestly declared that all she wanted was to see her friend again. And so the kind woman flicked her wrist and the rags the girl had been wearing were replace by a rich ball gown, paired with a glass slippers. The girl thanked her again and again before heading off in search of her lost friend.

“She doesn’t warn her about the time limit?”

“There’s no curfew here, it’s a stupid conflict anyway.”

You couldn’t contain the excitement and adrenaline that flowed through you as you went up the steps of the grand palace. You hadn’t been here since you were a child, when the king’s father still allowed you to visit, and childhood memories flooded your mind. It was difficult to keep your nerves at a reasonable level as you approached the guards at the front gate. By the time you had arrived at the palace, most of the guests were already inside, so you were completely alone when you handed the invitation, hoping the witch had done her work well.

“Enjoy your evening.” They smiled before urging you to step inside. A sense of awe filled you as you walked through the somewhat familiar halls, remembering all the places you and Tsuzuru would hide from the servants, before his title meant anything to you.

You weren’t sure you remembered the way to the main hall, so you followed the noise, hoping you could make your way there.

When you finally stood outside what seemed to be the entrance, you took a few deep breaths before walking forward, determined to see your friend again. When you stepped though the door you quickly realized that the door wasn’t the room’s main entrance, but the top of the grand staircase. Dread filled you as everyone’s eyes fell on you. If it wasn’t for the railing you thought you have fainted right then and there. You breathed in, allowing you hand to wrap around the bracelet the two of you had made so long ago, letting the warm feelings it carried spread through you.

You bowed once before making your way down the stairs, hoping you wouldn’t trip on your dress and make a fool of yourself before the night even started.

The moment you were off the last step, your eyes fell on your step-mother, eyeing you with absolute envy and disgust. You hoped the mask would be enough to conceal your identity.

You walked around the room for a bit, keeping to the less populated areas, hoping to catch a glimpse of Tsuzuru, disappointed to find that he was nowhere to be found.

“Please let this not be for nothing…”

You were about to make your way to the balcony, but a swarm of guests was suddenly in your path, dancing to the waltz the band had just started playing. You frantically looked around, searching for a way out when two arms wrapped around you, pulling you along with the rest of the dancers.

“I guess you’re my partner?” the face of the man that stood before you made your jaw drop. You had thought of so many things to say, but now that Tsuzuru was standing before you, the words seemed to catch in your throat.

“So, uh, are you having fun?” he was as awkward as you remembered. Something about the familiarity filled you with a sense of calm. I found him.

“I am now.” It was hard to contain the smile quickly spreading around your face.

“Actually I was-“that was when it was time to switch partners. When you felt his hand slip from yours, panic flooded through you. No… I didn’t have the chance to tell him.

As he pulled his hand away, his fingers brushed the bracelet on your wrist, eyes widening as he was whisked away by another partygoer, realization evident in his features. You tried to get closer, but were quickly taken away by another guest. Your eyes landed on Tsuzuru a few times but the hall was too crowded. It was almost suffocating. You took the first chance to slip out on the balcony, eager to get away from the crowds.

You stood at the railing, letting the air cool down your heated face. He had seen you, but you weren’t sure he would care enough to search. Negative thoughts occupied your mind as you gazed at the land beyond. Maybe this was foolish… He probably barely remembers me… He’s a prince after all. He was more important matter to attend to than a peasant he used to spend his free time with. You felt tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, your own loneliness catching up with you.

“Please don’t cry!” You were shocked to find Tsuzuru standing a few feet away from you, his face flushed and his knees bent. He must’ve been running.

“You’re the girl from back then, aren’t you?” he glanced down at your wrist, pulling up his own sleeve to reveal a bracelet identical to yours.

“Y-you kept it.” Your voice cracked, barely audible in the midst of the ongoing celebrations.

“Of course I did! It meant a lot to me.” The words seemed to call to something inside you and so you let the tears fall.

“W-what did I do? Please don’t cry!” he took a step closer, still unsure of what boundaries existed between you.

“I-I can’t help it. I’m just so happy!” you wrapped your arms around him, not caring who saw you. All that mattered in that moment was that the two of you were reunited at last.

“I missed you.” You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell he was crying too, by the way his heart beat against your, the way his hands shook, still wrapped around you in a tight embrace. Year’s worth of loneliness and regret spilled out of the both of you in a single moment.

You stayed like that for quite some time, allowing the relief to wash over you. When you looked at each other again, you couldn’t help but laugh at your state. You knew the scene must look ridiculous to any outside spectators, but none of them mattered. It felt like you were alone in the world, no barriers between you. Your class didn’t matter. You were just a boy and a girl who had been reunited.

“ The king was skeptical at first, knowing a commoner queen wouldn’t create any new alliances, but he could see the love his son had for the girl. And so they married. It’s said that the pair practically run down the stairs of the palace after their wedding, eager to get to their honeymoon, their laughter echoing through the streets.”

“That’s an ending befitting a prince Muku reads about in manga… I still don’t see where I fit into this… ”

“Fine. As they descended the staircase, the prince fell on his ass, causing even more laughter from the girl. A moment she would never let him forget.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the earnest look on Tsuzuru’s face. He may be clumsy, but he has always been kind.

“It will need a lot modifications, especially considering the fact that none of us can exactly pull off female roles, but it could work.” At some point through the story Tsuzuru seemed to have pulled out a notebook, in which he was now scribbling away.

“Are you seriously taking notes?” he was still focused on the story, not letting the inspiration go to waste.

“Of course I am. You’re brilliant!” he pulled you in for a kiss, taking you completely by surprise.

“You’re the best.” He turned back to his note taking, leaving you with flushed cheeks and a bright smile.

“You too.”

And they lived happily ever after.

[cristalknife]

Kadam Week 2021 Day 1 ~ Do You Want To Be A Pirate?

So this is me trying to not start something on a platform only to post solely somewhere else aka AO3 and ff.net  you can find the complete list of Kadam Week 2021 prompts and you might find more stories on the Kadam Week 2021 AO3 collection

That said, the fist prompt was Puzzles and Games. And what represents better both than a treasure hunt? So here we go, I present to you Do You Want To Be A Pirate?

All the student body was abuzz, the annual treasure hunt was to be announced soon, it was always a great event. Mainly because the winner of the event earned a full booklet of backstage passes. Sixteen of them, completely blank to be used at the winner discretion during the current theatre season.

No limits were imposed on how the passes were to be used, be in a single show with a large group or even touring all the shows solo. The catch was that if multiple shows were to be watched by a group of two people up, the winner had to be there for each show.

Those booklets were the courtesy of Alumni working in the field. And to be honest it was a fun event for the faculty as well to create the set of riddles and clues needed to reach the destination.

It was supposed to be a moment of fun,  but at the same time given the kind of prize, it was not meant to be effortless.

However to the faculty disappointment, the individuals only rule with no cooperation allowed present in the previous editions, resulted in no winners for the past couple of years.

After consulting the sponsor, it was decided that for this year students could sign up as pairs.

But if the students decided to sign up as pair, then both the winners would have to be present each time they were to use the passes.

And apparently that wasn’t a condition that some were comfortable with, while others like Kurt were actually overjoyed.

Once he heard of the treasure hunt, he went out searching for Adam, barely containing his elation and desire to share the news.

Upon finding his boyfriend, Kurt was barely able to contain his excitement and he launched himself into Adam's arm sure he'd be caught.

Adam grinned and kissed Kurt back, holding him securely before saying "Hellu Love, what got you so excited?"

Kurt chuckled and as soon as his feet touched the floor once more he raised the flier and pointed to the fine prints "They mentioned a change in the rules and on this year’s event people can sign up as pairs. The catch is that both need to be present when using the passes, so you're game signing up with me?"

Adam raised an eyebrow curious before reading the flier aloud "The Annual Treasure Hunt? Is that what got you so excited? Except for my freshman year, I don't recall any of those events actually ever having winners"

Erika came up from the side and quipped "Three years ago was the last time someone won, but it was again one of the last seniors graduating. After that batch left, no one ever figured out the clues, I'm surprised the faculty still does it"

Kurt shrugged "Well the prize makes very much sense for the school, I mean blank passes for the backstage of current productions? That sounds interesting, and sixteen of them would actually mean we could all go together as a group and still have two spares for the winning team to get another show, or split between two productions..."

Kurt speech had most of the Apples smiling and send to their favourite freshie an adoring look.

Adam still amazed by his boyfriend asked softly "So you suggest a common effort and register more than one team, and then Apples parties at my place, where we could all chill out and talk about our days?"

JJ quipped up "Only if that involved baked goods from both our favourite bakers, because Adam ma man, I love your cookies but gimme Kurt's  casserole and salty cupcakes any time, and I could even fight you off and offer my hand in marriage for having those every day"

Kurt snorted and swatted away playfully JJ's offered hand "You are not even remotely bi-curious, If I wanted to live with an overgrown kid who'd stay with me for my cooking I'd simply invite my brother to move in with me"

Everyone around chuckled at that and JJ pouted mockingly offended "Are you insinuating I'm not man enough for you?"

Adam then stepped in smirking "More like implying that all the main male leads in his life are already cast, and you dear friend can only be the occasional torn in our butt, one that comes every now and then to offer his company in exchange for delicious food..."

Grinning like a cheshire cat JJ quipped back "Well we all know that the good ones are all gay, unavailable or happily being both together"

Everyone broke down in giggles and with resolute nods each claimed a partner. The divide and conquer idea Kurt had was very intriguing, and the thought of getting the upper hand on an event that even the Perks couldn't get their way by popularity alone, or that no one else won for the past couple of years had its allure…

Especially given the mixed composition of techies and performers in their group.

Seeing Kurt smiling radiantly was something each member of the Apples enjoyed and cherished.

Especially since the big fallout, or as it was known amongst them, the great purge of the toxic influx in Kurt's life.

Also known as the day when Miss fallen out Diva Berry left the loft in a huff and Kurt and his roommate Santana took the storming out literally and changed the key of the padlock.

Sending all of Berry’s stuff back to the temporary storage place two blocks away from bushwick, with a 3 days grace period and a week paid with Berry's part of the deposit.

Kurt himself was just very happy to be surrounded by friends who supported him as much as he supported them.

Being with Adam and being friends with all the members of the Adam's Apples, had given him a perspective he never knew he desperately needed, and it also lowered his tolerance for taking crap by those who were supposed to be on his side.

Kurt was not secretly very excited by the prospect of looking forward to something in his life that could be just fun and despite being officially a competition. He was still able to live it as an adventure, to be shared with his boyfriend and all their friends as well.

As they walked away from the registration boot and reading the first clue ‘Every adventure needs a captain to sail for the treasure island’

Kurt giggle when Adam playfully whispered in his ear "Aye aye captain let's get our sea legs on"

Kurt nodded and they made it to the costume department through the back corridors, not wanting to tip off the other not Apples participants, while their friends instead received simply a gentle reminded in their text chat, that all hearties were to meet at rehearsal later in the week same place same time.

Indeed their guess was correct when they found the next clue stating ‘Never forget those who came before you’

Kurt and Adam took the chance to grab a quick lunch as they discussed the clue. Adam was the first one to attempt to solve it "If we are thinking about the school that would send us to the hall of fame"

Kurt nodded slowly but tapped his finger against his lips "But what if it's a more general outlook? We are learning to get into an industry that broadens beyond the limits of the school and its social circles, even if those are still important"

Adam hummed softly mulling over it "So you're suggesting more like the library?"

Kurt nodded "I'm just unsure whether we are supposed to search in the history section itself or go more for the history of Broadway and theatre section"

Adam nodded slowly "there's no rule about not searching blindly both"

Kurt chuckled and nodded as well, after finishing his cup he raised an eyebrow in silent question and received a simple nod in response.

Once in the library, Adam was the one to take over the history of Broadway and the theatre section while Kurt went through the History books.

It took a while but finally Adam was successful and found a piece of plasticised parchment with what appeared half of the final clue.

The mention of a second half made him frown, but with nothing else to be found there, he simply took a picture of it with his phone.

He then placed the clue back inside the book and the book back on the shelf before going to find Kurt, hoping his got lucky and found the second half.

"Did you get anything?"

Kurt shook his head a little put off "No absolutely nothing, you?"

Adam nodded "Yeah I found something but it's only half of the final clue"

Kurt frowned confused "Guess it's time to start some baking then hmmm?"

Adam smiled and leaned forward to give Kurt a small peck on his cheek trying to stop the frowning "We could do directly at my place and then make an evening out of it"

The offer, as Adam hoped, brought a smile on Kurt's face as he replied coyly "I'd love that, are you offering just the evening or it could turn into a sleepover"

Adam grinned and moved so that he could kiss those cheeky lips, when he was almost where he wanted to be, he breathed quickly "We'll swing by the loft if there's something you absolutely need for tomorrow classes"

He then proceeded to thoroughly kiss his boyfriend.

After classes ended for the day, Kurt sent a message to their chat group informing everyone that it was baking time in the afternoon

Adam raised an eyebrow curiously at the message and Kurt shrugged stating simply "That way we can be sure basically everyone will show up with something to contribute, just before or around dinner time, and then the meeting will become a movie night"

Adam snorted because indeed knowing their friends that was what would most likely happen, "It wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I offered to make an evening out of it darling"

Kurt grinned, mischief gleaming clearly in his eyes "That's why I raised your offer to a sleepover instead..."

And true to Kurt's expectations, that evening all the Apples who didn't have to work, appeared at Adam's doorstep with offerings for the shared evening meal.

Of course those who had worked demanded a do-over with double baked goodies of their faves as personal share...

Once everyone was seated around, Paul, who paired up with JJ for the treasure hunt, asked "How was your hunt we've only found half of the final clue"

Kurt wrinkled his nose "we reached only half of the final clue as well care to see if we've all found the same half or if we lucked out?"

Adam took off his phone and started to read aloud "Congratulation adventurers, you're holding half of the treasure map holding the clue for the final answer you will have to give to someone to receive your treasure, think back on the steps you took to find this and then go and find the last missing piece"

JJ jumped up from his seat exclaiming excitedly "Yes we've got both!"

Paul shook his head smiling and took off his own phone reading "Congratulation adventurers, you're holding half of the treasure map holding the clue to figure out who is the officer that you'll need to impress with the answer that you still need to find to receive your treasure, think back on the steps you took to find this and then go and find the last missing piece"

Everyone was suddenly buzzing with unrestrained excitement when Kurt asked pragmatically "So how are we going to tackle this? Reading both clues together and then split between them or focusing the attention on a single one?"

Adam suggested swiftly "We could actually read them both and then see how to tackle the easier one first"

When everyone nodded Paul continued reading their clue "You might go to Central Park Or catch a show on Broadway...  Where in the world would you be to get to these by subway? Twice... I mean the answer is New York clearly but how does that help us identify who to give our final answer to?"

General groaning raised from around the room when Erika cut in "Adam what is your clue?"

Adam complied and read it for everyone perusal "What show is next in this pattern: A Chorus Line, Into the Woods, Bat Boy, Pacific Overtures, Little Women, Damn Yankees, Camelot, The Pajama Game, Children of Eden. As a hint, there is more than one show that correctly works, but one show fits more ‘perfectly’ than any others.”

Adam raised his phone to let everyone seeing the picture and commented

“As a side note there's only one blank line but its length doesn't seem indicative as it was formatted to look good rather than give a hint on the last name, or at least that’s what it looks like to me"

And everyone had to nod at that consideration at that point Chris' groan was the loudest "I don't get yall, neither of those is any more clear than mat moss paint..."

Kurt sniggered but offered a plate with Chris' favourite cookies on it "It's ok, we can work it out together so any ideas?"

Matt who had been quiet this far asked Kurt speculatively "You already have an idea for at least one of them don't you?"

Kurt looked taken aback and blushed getting himself busy with the food "Nothing solid.."

At that point Adam walked behind Kurt and wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist as he pressed himself against his boyfriend "It's ok Love, you don't have to be right to speak your mind, we are here brainstorming there's no judging with us"

JJ quipped teasingly "I mean we'll obviously judge and tease you till the end of times for getting flustered the first time we took you out for blow jobs, but for this… I mean you're all going to hearing the suggestion my gorilla brain comes up with"

Chris snorted and quipped teasingly "Given what gets spawned out of your mouth I thought you would have said instead that yours is like a pig’s brain."

Matt joined in to the teasing, shaking his head as he grinned salaciously and wiggling his eyebrows "Nah a pig's brain is too big we are talking mouse if everything is in proportion."

Kurt coughed at the double meaning implied in that sentence, he feared JJ would take it badly. But he was once again surprised when JJ put theatrically one hand on his cheek, the other on his chest clearly mimicking a delightful surprise "Oh Matt, my darling why didn't you said that before… All this time you were checking me out  because you wanted some of my sweet sweet love, comma hear lemme give ya some sugar baby"

Everyone erupted in laugher and Matt maturely threw his napkin aiming for JJ's face "You wish man, you wish"

JJ pouted "Harsh dude, harsh, you could have at least throw your cupcake with the napkin"

Kurt sent a levelled glare to both boys "If anyone dares to throw our delicious baked food not only they will stay for the cleanup, but they will be banned to get more baked goodies for the next month"

A single "Ouch" escaped Matt's lips before he silenced himself and raised his arms in surrender.

Paul swatted the back of JJ's head "Don't upset daddy, or I'm so going to gag you next time we are all in the same room to prevent that from happening, I rather enjoy our baked goodies"

Erika quipped at Paul "Which is why you shouldn't save JJ from himself, let him dig his own grave, more goodies for us... Kurt had not said anything about lowering the amount of baked goodies, only put a ban on who can access them"

Chris chuckled and offered their fist to Erika, as they said grinning "Well said girl well said"

Erika smiled brilliantly and bumped the fist and then both made an explosion motion as they both retreated their arms.

Kurt raised an eyebrow at being addressed as daddy, but  Adam just held him a little closer and mouthed later.

So Kurt took the handle of the situation and started sharing his idea hoping for the current teasing to come to a natural rest "well I was thinking on Paul and JJ's clue... What if we need to take that final twice literally? As in the correct answer is New York, New York"

Erika's eyes shone brighter "Like the Scorsese's movie?"

Kurt nodded "Yes that's also the name of the most known song from that movie, so New York New York could be the solution"

Paul pondered and then said "Well if we are talking about a movie would that mean that we are to talk with the dean of the drama department?"

Kurt bit his lips and then he continued explaining his thoughts "I was thinking more about the fact it might refer to the song, which then in turn would make Madam T be the one to speak with, given that she's the dean of vocal performance. And with the movie being also a musical maybe the singing component is more pronounced and would lead to her instead of Mr Keller?"

Adam then said serenely "Once we figure out the answer we could even decide to split and each team going to both of them with the solution."

Murmurs of agreement run through the room until Matt stated "So now we just have to figure out what that list of musicals have in common?"

JJ scratched his head before raising and grabbing few more cupcakes to munch on "Do you think that the fact they cross two centuries means anything?"

Chris promptly opened Adam's computer and pulled up the wikipedia pages of all the listed musicals before shaking their head "Nope they are not in chronological order so it’s not that"

Paul then quipped "And that wouldn't make any sense, the additional hint says that there's only one answer that would fit perfectly... it's not like there's only one new musical coming out every single year"

Erika asked then "I am not familiar with all the titles but are they really all musicals?"

Adam answered "Yeah all of those listed are musicals, so maybe we need to check on the songs?"

Matt then wondered aloud "What if it's something all the songs have? Maybe there's a matching title or a recurring theme?"

Kurt took out his phone and looked around and said "well there's seven of us and nine titles maybe we could each open the list and check them side by side?"

JJ grinned and took out his phone as well "That's a great idea"

Kurt started listing all the songs of chorus line, Matt went on with the ones from into the woods,  JJ giggled like a maniac as he read the bat boy's list. Paul read on the Pacific Overtures and Erika listed the ones from Little Women.

When Adam, who was reading from the Damn Yankees, reached the song titled Six months, Chris exclaimed excited while raising a finger silently asking for a moment "Holy moley I think we got something going here"

Everyone turned, waiting for more explanation that Chris promptly provided "Each of those musicals has a song with a number in their titles" and then they pointed to Kurt who quickly caught up and said "One" and then each proceeded in order Matt said "It takes two", JJ said excited "Three Bedroom House "

Paul grinned starting to see the path as he said "Four Black Dragons"

Erika was grinning madly as she said "Five forever"

Then JJ still super hyped by having discovered the key to decode the clue he asked Chris "So what are the others?"

Chris smirked and started prattling "In Camelot we have ‘The Seven Deadly Virtues’, The Pajama Game has a song called  ‘7½ Cents’ while the Children of Eden has ‘A Piece of Eight’”

Kurt hummed softly and considered aloud "So we have nine musicals mentioned but the last number is eight... What if they had already given us the answer and it's literally Nine?"

Adam whistled impressed "That actually makes so much sense..."

Paul groaned "And if you explain it like that it seems so obvious too"

Erika shrugged "All riddles once explained make so much sense that you usually feel stupid for not reasoning it out before... That's why they are considered brain teasers"

Chris who in the meantime checked out Kurt's suggestion finally quipped triumphantly "That's it guys, we have a winner the answer is indeed Nine, which has a song called guess what?”

Chuckling everyone said at once “Nine"

JJ then scratched his head and then asked "So now we are only unsure on who we need to tell our answer to?"

Paul quipped happily “Me says Adam and Kurt follow Kurt’s reasoning, we follow ours, that way if our suspicion is correct and Kurt is right it’ll be them and not us having a private date… No offence man but I’d really prefer not having my girlfriend gutting me for going out on a date with you”

JJ snorted before sounding almost genuinely upset “Harsh man, harsh”

Paul patted JJ shoulder when Kurt asked confused “But what about the others?”

Matt answered smiling “Kurt you four are the only ones who got to the final clue, I personally wouldn’t like to try to get the prize knowing I barely got to the second one.”

Chris and Erika nodded as well confirming they felt the same way.

Kurt felt relieved that he wasn’t taking advantage of his friends. With everything sorted out, everyone else left leaving just Kurt and Adam alone.

After they settled down Kurt turned to Adam, with a questioning look on his face before asking “Is now later? Do I get to know what the daddy comment was about?”

Adam chuckled softly “Nothing bad Love, I can assure you that, you know that I’m considered the mother hen of the group right?”

Kurt hummed softly nodding as he snuggled closer to Adam who then continued “And well you’re too sweet and kind to all the Apples to be considered a father, but still we are together and we both tend to take care of them so…”

Kurt chuckled and finished shaking his head “So I’m daddy… Not sure how to feel about having so many kids that are all older than me”

They both sniggered at that.

The next day, when they went talking with Madam Tibideaux, they discovered that indeed Kurt’s reasoning was correct, and they got out of her office with the prize and matching grins. ~The End~

[mhdiaries]

Frights, Camera, Action! – Hauntlywood Clawdia Wolf Diary

August 25th

Today I was walking through the streets of Londoom I just wanted to howl and do a little dance because I’m so excited to be here. I didn’t, of course, do the dancing part, since I’m the one with the “clumsy gene” in our family and I didn’t want to fall through an open monster hole cover. It has never bothered me that I’m not as athletic as the rest of the pack, because I think it was pretty apparent even when I was a cub that I was better at writing stories about my brothers’ and sisters’ athletic exploits than participating in them. It’s not that I didn’t try, but my mind and body may have been in concert but they were not playing the same tune. I remember the last organized soccer game I played: the coach put me in the goal partly because I was tall for my age and partly because he thought that perhaps the prospect of a ball being rocketed toward me might keep my attention. It worked for a bit, until the ball stayed at the other end of the pitch for a while, and a butterfly landed on the net. All of a sudden I became a ferocious were-spider who decided to give the butterfly a reprieve. So I climbed up in the net to shoo it away when I heard my dad yell, “Clawdia, turn around!” A ghoul was on a breakaway, and the only thing between her and me was open pitch and the ball. I tried to turn, and my spikes caught in the net, so I just closed my eyes and leaped toward the front of the goal. Somehow the ball ended up in my claws, and I kept the ghoul from scoring. It was my one and only athletic achievement, so I retired with my legacy in check and got a good story out of it, which, I’m sure, will end up in one of my screamplays some day. 

September 8th

I was sitting in the lecture hall today not really paying attention like I should have been, partly because I was working on a not-for-that-class writing assignment and partly, okay, mostly, because symbolism in ghost-modern, neo-realist goblin cinema is only slightly less painful than rolling in flea-infested wolf’s bane. Honestly, I have no idea what a goblin miner wearing a red hat and pushing an empty ore cart says about the state of modern goblin-kobold relations. I’m sure it is profound and important, but well... it doesn’t matter. What did matter, howere, was that the professor asked a question that he wanted all of us to answer, and I didn’t hear the question. I could have asked him to repeat the question, of course, but then I would have had to acknowledge that I had not been paying attention, and since this particular professor hates that, I knew I was going to have to wing it on the answer. Which made me nervous, which made me look for something to chew on, which meant I wasn’t listening to the other answers, which meant I didn’t have a clue when he got to me. So when he said, “Ms. Wolf?” I said I didn’t think I could add anything to the discussion that had not been more profoundly stated in the answers my classmates had already given. This caused the rest of the class to burst out laughing, to which the professor said, “While I appreciate your humility, your answer leaves us no closer to knowing how many siblings you have.” I was mortalfied, but even more so when he said, “Please do try and pay better attention going forward.” Unlive and learn, Clawdia, unlive and learn. 

September 15th

I’ve been using my iCoffin tablet to do some of my writing lately, and I really like it. I mean, I like the tablet. It’s great for doing video chats, and there are some really cool Londoom based apps that have helped me find my way around the city better. As for the writing part, I still prefer my chewed pen and leghoul pad. It may be old-fashioned, but there’s something about a blank sheet of paper that’s less intimidating than a blank scream with a blinking cursor.

October 1st

The only thing that’s coming down faster than the temperature in Londoom right now is the rain. I’m not sure what the real temp is, but you know it’s cold when a werewolf has to put on her fuzzy wool socks... brrr... fortunately, dad did a good job preparing me for this climate by never allowing to turn the thermostat up past the “I can see my breath” mark during the winter. We would say, “Dad, the house is freezing!” to which he would always reply, “You can either have heat or you can eat.” Followed quickly by, “We’re werewolves, for ghoul’s sake, put on a sweater if you’re cold.” Then we’d all look at mom, who would just shrug her soldiers. It was one of the only things she couldn’t change his mind about. So we’d all just sit snuggled together on the couch watching bad TV, complaining about Howleen’s sharp, unclipped paw nails and making promises about what we’d do when we all moved out and got our own places. I distinctly remember saying that I would turn up the heat so high that it would make Gloom Beach seem like a Yeti cave. So the first time it got cold here, I did just that, and it was every bit as amazing as I imagined it would be, until I got my first heating bill. Let’s just say that grocery shopping for the next few weeks gave me a completely different perspective on dad’s old saying. I’m pretty confident that saltines and marmite will never darken the shelves of my cupboard again after having that formerly tasty combination as my only breakfast and lunch option for a fortnight. I’m really missing being able to snuggle up on the couch with my pack of siblings, and I wouldn’t even complain about Howleen’s uncut paw nails... well, maybe not a lot.  

October 6th

I had a great video chat with the fam tonight, and they could not stop talking about Draculaura being chosen as queen of the vampires. They were in complete shock, and I have to admit it was quite a surprise to me as well. The vampires haven’t had a queen since the last chosen one, a young vampire ghoul named Elissabat, disappeared some 400 years ago. What is really curious about this, as if Draculaura being chosen as the new queen right out of the boo wasn’t curious enough, is that Clawdeen told me Draculaura’s choice was confirmed by the Vampire’s Heart. I have actually been doing quite a bit of research on the heart, which is really just a massive jewel with magical properties, for a screamplay I wanted to write about the mystery of the missing queen. There are many scholars that believe the jewel disappeared at the same time the ghoul who would be queen did; so either the scholars are incorrect, or there is more here than meets the eye. I didn’t want to be the one to rain on the funeral though, until I had a little more proof, especially with Clawdeen being so excited about attending the coronation. I did notice that Clawd wasn’t in the room with everyone else, and I’m wondering how he is dealing with this news. 

October 7th

Clawdeen has sent me at least 30 texts and emails since last night detailing the fashions she’s thinking about taking to the coronation. I can see her now running around the room with absolutely every piece of clothing she owns spread out so she can mix and match fashions. She’s probably also been through Draculaura’s closet several times as well. I love her so much and I wish I could be there to make her laugh when she starts getting too serious. She’s so beautiful, though, that whatever she chooses will probably steal the show. I finally got an IM from Clawd asking if we could talk. This wasn’t unusual, since Clawd prefers one-on-one conversation to fighting for face time in a group. When he popped up on the screen he looked terrible, almost like he’d been crying, although it might have just been bad lighting. As usual, Clawd didn’t want to talk about himself and instead wanted to know every little thing I was doing. I finally had to say, “Stop howling around the moon and talk to me, little brother.” So he did. He told me that he didn’t trust the Lord Stoker character that showed up with the Vampire’s Heart claiming it led him to Draculaura. What’s more, neither did Draculaura. They both thought Draculaura would be miserable being queen, but that she would feel honor and duty bound to take the throne. Even so he was trying to be as supportive as possible and went on for a few more minutes about things that were worrying him. When he stopped I said, “You really love her, don’t you?” He looked down for a moment and swallowed hard, “She’s my best friend, sis, and I’m about to lose her forever.” Now it was my turn to swallow hard, and then he made an excuse about having to leave for practice and said a hasty goodbye. I’m going to do some more digging into this, because something doesn’t pass the smell test here, and a Wolf’s nose is always right. 

[catte-bard]

Those Halcyon Days Preview

Working on an Amaurot fic in between ffxivwrite prompt. It’s something that’s been on my mind since like 5.1 and with new lore we got from 5.3 I’ve finally been invigorated to get started on it. 

But it’s like the title says. Just a little preview to pique interest. Plan on really getting to work on it next month.

“You are in trouble, dear Azem.”

Persephone looked up from her work at her guest. Then glanced at the wall chronometer. “Good afternoon, Halmarut.” 

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?” The man placed his hands on his hips. “You missed this morning’s assembly.”

Though she caught sight of the little smile on his lips. He feigned disapproval but he did not come here to scold. Her old mentor tried to be the formal and serious member of the Convocation that he was expected to be. But the man could never hide the soft spot he had for her.

“I’m sure the Convocation will not fall apart because of this absence.” Persephone answered back, turning her attention back to her work. She plucked a quill from its inkwell to quickly scribe something down in an opened notebook. “Asides, I’ve just returned from my travels and am weary from them. If I am to subject my mind to another one of Lahabrea’s long-winded speeches I would rather do so with a well-rested one.”

“Yes, I believe that is why you were summoned to the assembly.” Halmarut stated as he walked up to her desk. Curious of what she was working on and being unabashedly nosy about it. “The Convocation awaited what you had to report from your travels. Six moons—that’s the longest you have ever been away from Amaurot. We were all worried and curious to know what kept you away for so long. Usually your expeditions are half that time.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, a frown hidden behind her mask. “I’ve been busy.”

Her response was vague and she should have known better to use such with Halmarut. It only made the man pry even more. 

Halmarut canted his head. “Busy? Have you come across anything unusual?”

The tone in his voice implied that her response might mean something depending on how she answered. She looked up at him. “A few rogue concepts...” She carefully said. “Odd things but nothing to worry about I’m sure. Perhaps, something created by a few rambunctious younglings who were too ashamed to tell anyone about. They didn’t give me too much trouble if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Halmarut was quiet as he puzzled over her words. Seeming to internally debate something. His fingers drummed against the stop of her desk—a nervous tick of his he did when something was nagging at his mind. Something on his tongue he wanted to say but held back.

Persephone was a bit curious herself now. “Master Halmarut?” She called, pulling him from his thoughts.

So lost in thought was he that he startled at the sound of his voice. 

“Is everything well?” She asked.

“Ah.” The man cleared his throat. “Just a...small concern. But nothing you need fret about right now; it still merits investigation. That aside, you should have brought your matter forth to the Convocation or at least the Bureau—you know what little tolerance there is on rogue concepts.”

Persephone shrugged. “I did not think it important to report straight away if I had it handled.” It simply had never been her way, she always sought to deal with certain matters on her own. Much to the Convocation’s exasperation no doubt. “The concepts were destroyed as per protocol and no one was injured. I saw no reason to report it right away.

“Though rest assured, the Convocation will be getting the full report of my travails tomorrow.” And she gestured to the paperwork before her. “I am working on that now if that’s what you truly came to pester me about. If you do not wish to scold me again then perhaps you should leave me to it?”

At that Halmarut grunted. “Very well... I will leave you to it then. But first I came to ask a favor of you.” 

“Go on?” Persephone nodded.

“I was hoping you’d be free tonight to help me with some of my classes at Akademia.” He told her. “It’s getting to that part of the year and the students are beginning to have a glazed look in their eyes. A surprise visit from the esteemed Azem might reinvigorate them a bit. I’ll even throw in dinner as payment for asking you to work late after just returning home.”

A glance at the wall chronometer. And Persephone supposed she would be done without her work well before Halmarut’s evening classes. So long as none of their other brethren decided to come pester her about other tasks. Though she supposed if she spoke of a prior engagement it might keep their requests at bay.

And asides, she had oft helped Halmarut teach his classes before. She always enjoyed herself. And there was a nice thrilling bit of nostalgia about returning to the lecture halls of Akademia.

“I suppose I’ll be able to make it.” She told him.

And Halmarut beamed at her. “Excellent!” He exclaimed. However, he quickly sobered and cleared his throat. “I will be waiting for you. And dear Azem, another thing—do try to make the next assembly we call. Myself and Elidibus may have patience with you but the others may not.”

With that he bowed his head in farewell and walked towards the door. However, he paused midway. “Ah! Actually there was one last thing, my dear girl.” He called over his shoulder.

Persephone looked up expectantly.

“I do believe Emet-Selch was on the hunt for you earlier.” He told her. “Do be careful when you come across him. He seemed rather upset to learn you had skipped this morning’s meeting.”

It had been another three bells after Halmarut’s visit. And fortunately, Persephone had not had to entertain any more guests. Which left her to finish her long and grueling report about her six month forey. Along with a very sincere sounding apology for her absence at the previous assembly. 

Her fingers ached from writing so much, and halfway through she made a mental note to herself to look into a concept for a quill that wrote by itself. It would certainly make things less tedious. And would lessen the occurrences of wrist cramps.

She stared down at her report in silence. Truth be told, there was much more to her prolonged absence than she had told Halmarut. Much more worrying concerns. 

But she could tell the man had his own pressing matters to worry about if his early comments were anything to go by. It seemed Amaurot had gained some of its own troubles while she was away. She only hoped it wasn’t anything as bad as what she discovered out there.

A shocking amount of plant decay was observed north of the city where the rogue concepts dwelled. An entire forest dead and dying as if disease had swept through it. It’s unlike anything I have seen before. It is natural for plants to wither and rot in nature. But this is to a starling degree. 

It seems less like natural rot and more like a corruption. The native fauna that had once dwelt there had long since fled. And I do not blame them. 

Annona theorized that perhaps the presence of the rogue concepts caused the rot. Their unnatural energies warping their surroundings. I will look into it further after we’ve made sure all the concepts have been destroyed. 

She had included a few of her journal entries in the report. Days had been spent in the forest studying the rot. Weeks and months had been spent trying to revive it. And yet despite their efforts, nothing refused to regrow there. It seemed that whatever disease or corruption tainted the area had seeped down into the soil. 

It seemed nothing would grow there again. A troublesome prospect. Which is what brought her back to Amaurot. Unfamiliar with such a situation she thought perhaps Halmarut or the rest of the Convocation might have thoughts to weigh on the matter.