#gonna work for the school district. gonna make friends with all the teachers who stay late after school. fuck yeahhhhh

[ratspider]

i gotta be honest i am stoked to be a janitor. i see mops and i get excited

[janeyseymour]

Secrets

hi! so, an anon asked for this. i had a LOT of fun with this one, and i hope you enjoy! literally not edited in the slightest because this one wrote itself and i don't have time to read over 9k words.

summary: You're Ava's friend, and that is enough to make Melissa hate you. But then, through volunteering for different events through the school, the redheaded teacher finds that she's falling for you. You have money, not that anyone knows, and when the school desperately needs money, you anonymously donate a generous amount. Of course, the Abbott crew isn't satisfied with not knowing who donated all of that money, and they sure as hell intend to find out.

WC~9.4k

You grew up with a lot of money. You don’t even need this job- Daddy still has you covered and pays for most of your expenses, as much as you continue to tell him that you are perfectly capable of making it on your own. You have enough saved up from all of the ridiculous amounts of money you received from past birthdays, as well as high school and college graduation presents, not to mention the fact that you have a good portion of money invested into different stocks, and you’re doing pretty damn well for yourself.

Dad taught you all about personal finances when you were younger- he’s a successful day trader, but he’s always been on the financial side of business work to begin with, and Mom is a lawyer.

And while you had quite a lavish lifestyle, your parents still chose to reside in Philadelphia, and not necessarily the nice area of Philly either. But it was part of their story, and they wanted to stay close to their roots, so they raised you here. And growing up, you became close friends (maybe even best friends) with the one and only: Ava Coleman. She was your partner in crime growing up, and you never lost contact with her once you graduated high school.

You went off to school to pursue a career in education, much to both of your parents surprise- but they supported you in your decision.

(“I hope you raise the next generation to be smart,” Mom had told you. “Bring up some new lawyers for generations to come, yeah?”

“Teach those kids how to make it out alive like Ma and I did, got it kiddo?” Dad had joked with you, but you knew he was being serious.)

After years of teaching at one of the other public schools in the suburbs of your city, you decided that you wanted to come back to your roots. You miss Philly and all of the excitement that comes with it. You miss the odd odor that lingers in the streets, and the way that no one could give half a shit and jaywalked. You miss the way that you could pretty much walk anywhere, and within a few minutes you could be milling around Reading Terminal Market looking for some good eats. So you call your best friend for some advice.

“Girl, why didn’ you tell me sooner?” Ava asks you once you’ve explained to her that you want to come back to the city. “I own a school now, and I can for sure get you a job here.”

“Ava,” you sigh. “What the hell do you mean you own a school? Do you mean you’re the principal of a school?”

“Same thing,” you can practically hear your best friend rolling her eyes.

“That’s awesome,” you congratulate her. “How’d you manage that?”

“You know how I’ve been helping out at the Abbott elementary admin building with financials? Well,” she cackles into the phone. “I did some deep diving, and I found out that the super intendant of the district has been sleeping around- found hotel bills and everything on the company card for quickies. All I had to do was bring that up, and boom! I get a new title, a nice raise, and I own a school! I’ve been there for a couple months now, but there are more turnovers here than there were in the last Super Bowl, so I can for sure get you in.”

“A couple months? Has it really been that long since we last talked?”

“Since we actually caught up, yeah,” she sighs dramatically. “You and your fancy teaching job out in the ‘burbs. It ain’t gonna be fancy like that though, we don’ even got money for a proper librarian.”

“Remember, we grew up in Philly,” you remind her. “I know what it’s like. But can you really get me a job?”

“For sure,” she tells you. “With Summer coming up, I be knowin’ I’m about to get a lot of resignations from these people I thought were spicy White people but ain’t. The only spicy white lady here is Schemmenti- pretty sure she’s part of the mob, but I ain’t about to dig. We’ll have you join us next school year.”

“I highly doubt a teacher working in Philly is part of the mob,” you roll your eyes. “But if you’re serious, then yes. I would love to come work with you.”

“For me,” she corrects. “Just because we friends don’t mean I ain’t about to subject you to all of my bullshit at school- you get to deal with the full Ava experience in all its glory just like everybody else.”

“I’ve been subject to it for my entire life,” you laugh.

“I’ll reach out when I can officially accept your resume and offer you a position, but in the mean time… girl, when we getting our nails done?”

By some grace of God, Ava is able to keep her word, and you’re officially an employee of Willard R. Abbott Elementary School starting in August as a second grade teacher. You walk in arms full of boxes stacked so high you can barely see over them, not dressed in your fanciest clothes- you have a whole separate wardrobe when it comes to teaching. You know how this works- clothes will be ruined. Hell, some clothes were ruined at a nicer suburban school, so you know that some of your outfits will not be wearable by the end of the school year- or even the first week with the kids if you’re that unlucky.

“There you are, bitch!” Ava grins and runs over to you as you enter. She’s decked out in Eagles apparel, it’s all bejeweled in true Ava Coleman fashion. “I’m so happy you’re here- you boutta blow the roof off this place!”

You roll your eyes playfully but smile at her. “Can you just show me where my room is so I can start setting it up before we have to do our development activities?”

“Don’t you got people to do that for you?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I am fully capable of setting up my classroom myself- without people to move everything for me.”

“Lame,” she sighs. “I always like seeing the sexy movers your Dad hires for you.”

“I explicitly told him I didn’t want him to do that for me,” you tell her. “And I told him that if he sent people here to move stuff from my car, I would never be respected. I know how it goes around here, and so does he. So, here I am.”

The principal leads you down to your room. “All yours,” she grins as she unlocks the door.

You look around once you’ve set your boxes on the ground and bite your lip thoughtfully. You can make do with this space.

“Your team is Janine… annoying ass dork, and Melissa… mean Italian lady who is working for the mob.”

“You’re still on that?”

“Guilty until proven innocent!” Ava quips.

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh. “Care to give me a hand with unloading the rest of the stuff from my car?”

“Girl, I just got my nails done, and you sure as hell know I don’t do manual labor. I’m the principal now- that shit’s beneath me!” She turns on her heel. “See you in the library in an hour!”

You report down to the gym a little before everyone else to get your bearings, and to beg your best friend to not make a huge deal about you being here- specifically requesting that she doesn’t speak anything of your family or the business. You have a relatively common last name, so it isn’t like anyone would hear your name and immediately know of your family either.

“I won’ say anything about your fam, but you sure as hell know I’m gonna let them know your my bitch and they shouldn’t mess with you.”

You sulk back to your seat, dreading whatever the hell Ava is going to say about your arrival at the school.

The rest of your colleagues make their way in and take seats in their designated seats, you still lingering in the back. This way, you’re able to see some new faces, and you wouldn’t want to take anyone’s unofficially assigned seat. Once everyone is seated you join them. You can immediately pick out a few of the names that Ava had thrown out over the summer. Janine is sitting with Gregory and Jacob, and the redheaded woman is clearly Melissa. Sitting next to her is who has to be what Ava described to as, “Melissa’s heterosexual work wife and life partner,” Barbara Howard.

The principal heads to the stage and starts her greeting in true Ava fashion- telling them all how much she wishes they weren’t here and she was still clubbing it up down at the shore, but she supposes it’s okay to see them again. And then she begins to introduce the new teachers- she, of course, saves you for last.

“And finally,” she breaks out in a grin and does a little dance. “we have Y/N. Listen up: this girl is my ride or die, and even one of you steps out of line towards her, and we gon’ have problems.”

All eyes turn to you and your red cheeks, but you give a small wave.

“Now, onto the boring stuff,” Ava sighs. She drones on about the new school year and what is going to (supposedly) pan out over the next nine months before she dismisses you all to prep in your classrooms for the remainder of the day.

You make a break for the door as soon as you can, sweater wrapped around you tightly even though it’s sweltering hot in the school- apparently Mr. Johnson still hasn’t fixed the air conditioning because he forgot which Boyz II Men song he assigned to the air system. As soon as you’re in your classroom, your sweater is off and you’re fanning yourself with a paper fan you had folded for yourself.

You continue to prepare for your students until you hear a gentle knock on the door. Who is standing there but Janine and Melissa.

“Hi!” Janine grins as she steps in. “It’s so great to have you as an addition to our team, and Melissa and I just wanted to stop by and introduce ourselves! I’m Janine, and this is-” She nudges the woman next to her.

The redhead just huffs and rolls her eyes. “Schemmenti,” is all she says.

“If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to come and ask one of us. My room is just down the hall, but lucky for you- Melissa’s room is right next door to you!”

“Don’t need anything,” the fiery second grade teacher warns you. “I don’t got time for someone who’s gonna leave in a few weeks.”

You’re somewhat taken aback by her abrasive personality, but you just smile instead. “Thank you,” is all you say once Janine has hissed out a quiet, “Melissa!”

“Did you need any help at all yet?”

“She don’t need help, pipsqueak,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “She’s got Ava on her side.” And with that, the redhead turns on her heel and leaves.

“Don’t mind her,” Janine tells you as she steps into your classroom a bit further. “She’s got a tough exterior, and she hated me too at first. But now, she’s like my work mom, with Barbara being my other work mom, of course. She even brought me lunch to make sure I eat today.”

“That’s very kind of her,” you say as you continue to set up your room.

“I like what you have goin’ on here,” your colleague nods her head in approval. “Nice and warm, kinda like my room! Well, I have to get back to my own classroom, but if you need anything, come on down! The price is right!” She laughs at her own joke before strolling down the hallway. 

Your first day at school is relatively peaceful, and before you know it, you’re allowed to leave. Of course though, you do plan on staying later because you have to finish up a few things before you’ll be satisfied with the progress you’ve made.

You see Melissa leaving her classroom, and despite not necessarily wanting to, you call out a gentle, “Have a good night, Melissa.”

She doesn’t say anything in response, just gives a short nod of the head in your direction before continuing on down the hall.

As you gather your things to leave for the day, Ava shows up at your door.

“So, we goin’ out for drinks?”

“I don’t think I can,’ you sigh. “I still have a lot of stuff that I have to prep for this, and I want to make sure it all gets done before the kids show up.”

“Girl, this would all be way easier if you just-”

“I don’t need any hired help,” you cut her off because you know exactly what she was going to say.

“Well then, I’m coming over,” your friend tells you, leaving no room for arguments. “It’s been too long since I seen you, or drank some of the good ass wine I know you have at your house.”

“Be my guest,” you chuckle as you sling your bag over your shoulder.

The rest of your development days are filled with boring meetings and time to prepare your classrooms. You find yourself a part of a committee to help with funding with a nudge from Ava.

“Girl, you don’t gots to tell them how you know all of this stuff about finances,” she tells you. “But it would be a big help to have someone like you on our team.”

“Fine. But if it gets out who I come from, I’m pulling out,” you point a finger at her. “I am not about to let my father get his hands on this and try to turn the school charter like he’s done before.”

She nods. “Whatever.”

The school year starts off strong. You’ve settled into your classroom, your kids absolutely adore you, and you adore them. You’ve spent some time with the other teachers in the school, besides Melissa, during preps, lunch duties, and recess duties. They all seem to like you, and you like them too.

Still though, you find yourself coming in early and staying late in order to get as much as you can together- you know once actual classwork starts to trickle in for you to grade, your plate is only going to get much more full. So any work that you can streamline and work ahead on, you do. The time where teachers are allowed to leave is upon you, and as much as you want to go home and take a nap, you know you really should stay and continue to work on lesson plans. Maybe you should start hanging up some of the work that your students have already done- their all about me posters and drawings. With a sigh, you gather the materials you’ll need to create a bulletin board and the footstool you keep in your cabinet and make your way into the hallway.

“Oi,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she closes her door for the night. “You know that working overtime won’t make you a better teacher.”

“I know,” you say softly. “But you know how it goes your first year in a new school.”

“Yeah, I don’t miss that shit,” the redhead huffs and starts to make her way down the hall.

“Have a good night, Melissa,” you call quietly.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t tell me what to do,” she tosses over her shoulder.

Wow. This woman was not easy to work with.

The next few days continue on like this, you staying later and later in order to stay on top of everything.

On Friday, you arrive early as you always do. While it’s casual Friday, and you’re allowed to wear jeans, you opt for a flowery sundress instead. It’ll keep your body temperature more regulated than a pair of stuffy jeans would. You know you aren’t doing anything where a student could accidentally destroy this dress either, so you think it’s a safe call.

As you enter the staff room to grab your lunch from the refrigerator, you hear the redhead’s low voice.

“You think you’re better than us, don’t you?” she challenges you, and you really don’t know why she’s doing this.

“Hm?” you hum as you grab your salad from the shelf.

“You think you’re better than us, don’t you?” she repeats. “Coming in here all cozy with Ava, wearing something or than jeans on casual Friday, already having bulletin boards up… you might’ve come from a nice school bonfire, but you’re here now- adjust.”

All of your coworkers’ eyes go wide at this unprovoked ‘fight’ you’ve found yourself in, and a few of them scold her. 

“What’s she gonna do?” Melissa fires out to Barbara. “Go tell on me to Ava and get me fired? Please.”

You bite your lip nervously before smiling tightly. “Have a nice lunch, y’all… and have a nice weekend if I don’t catch you before school’s over.” You leave the room with that and head back down to your classroom to eat your lunch while you pour over your lesson plans.

“Melissa,” Barbara sighs. “Y/N has done nothing to you, and you’re treating her terribly! There is no need; you are better than this!”

“Listen, she’s just another one of Ava’s minions who is going to reign hell on me during the school year. She already drives me nuts with the effort she’s putting in.”

“She may be friends with Ava,” Janine cuts in. “But I really don’t think she’s like her- she seems like she has drive and a true passion for our kids.”

“And that is what we need at this school,” the kindergarten teacher tells her friend. “We need people who are willing to put in the effort and love on these kiddos the way that she is. I already had Dante tell me during my lunch duty that he loves second grade because of her! Do not go tearing her down and forcing her out when we need more educators like her!”

“I don’t-”

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti,” Barbara pulls out the redhead’s full name, and Melissa’s eyes go wide at that. “Be nicer to the young girl. Give her a chance. You weren’t even this hard on Jacob and Janine when they first joined us.”

“And now you’re like my work mom!” the energetic teacher grins.

“You don’t even have to go out of your way to be nice to her,” the elder teacher says. “Just don’t be so harsh.”

“If I say sure, can we go back to eating lunch and talking about our weekend plans?”

Deciding that you’ve put enough hard work into this week and you’ll make sure you’re in here bright and early the day after Labor day, you grab your bag to head out on time and make the most of this long weekend. You close your door and begin to lock it just as Melissa makes her way out of the classroom.

“You’re not staying late tonight?” she looks at you with a raised brow.

“No,” you chuckle. “I figured that I deserve to have this weekend to relax after a hectic first week. But I’ll be back bright and early on Tuesday.”

“Mhmm,” the redhead hums as she fiddles with her door. “Shit,” she grumbles as she struggles to get the lock to turn.

“Do you want some help?” you ask her gently.

“I got it,” she holds up a hand. “I’ve been dealing with this damn door for the last two years. Mr. J will get around to it eventually.”

After watching her fight with the lock for long enough, you sigh and pull a bobby pin out of your hair. “Seriously, let me help.”

She steps aside, arms folded over her chest. Before you know it, you have her door locked, and you’re sliding the pin back into your hair.

“Thank you,” she mutters.

“Of course,” you smile at her shyly. “Hey, have a nice weekend.”

“You too, kid,” she tells you, and there isn’t any sort of bite behind her words. She isn’t smiling at you, but she also isn’t scowling at you.

Content with that conversation, you head for the doors and out to your car.

You make a pitstop on your way home into the Home Depot- you’’ just buy a new lock for Melissa’s door and install it on Tuesday when you get there. It’s a simple fix, and she doesn’t have to know it was you that did it.

The weekend is nice. You and Ava go out clubbing on Friday and Saturday night before nursing your hangovers on Sunday together. And then on Monday, you make your way over to your parents’ house with your partner in crime for the Labor Day barbecue they always hold. It’s a good time, as it always is. Your parents are happy to see the lively woman again, and they thank her for helping to get you back to your roots.

You’re back at Abbott bright and early- earlier than anybody else besides the janitor that lingers in the halls and doesn’t do his job.

“Good morning, Mr. J!” you greet him happily.

“Y/N,” he smiles back at you. “You have a nice weekend?”

“I did,” you reply as you make your way down to your wing. “And you?”

“Always a good time when you’re me,” he chuckles before continuing on his way humming a Boyz II Men song. 

You quickly drop your things off in your room before changing out your colleague’s crappy lock. You leave the new key in the hole so she has it, and then you settle at your desk to continue working on your lesson plans and preparations.

You hear her before you see her passing by your room to get to hers.

“Hey, good morning,” you greet her quietly.

“Mornin’,” she huffs. You’ve gathered that she isn’t much a morning person- at least not until she’s had her first cup of coffee and has watched the news in the break room with her friends.

You a hear a soft, “Huh,” come from her mouth as she notices there’s a new lock on her door. “Took you long enough, Mr. J.” She has no idea it’s you that changed it. Hopefully, this starts her week of well.

Your exchanges with the Italian lady in the room next door don’t much go beyond a good morning and a good night each day as the weeks go on, but she doesn’t frown at your mere existence anymore. If you squint, you can almost see a smile. The rest of your colleagues really seem to taking a liking to you, and you’re genuinely happy that you made the decision to come work here- even if it means putting up with your best friend’s shenanigans.

Everything is going swimmingly at work until one day Ava calls an emergency staff meeting at the end of the day.

Making your way into the library, you genuinely have no idea what she could have to announce so urgently. Apparently, neither do any of the other teachers.

“You’re close with her,” Melissa falls into step with you. “You know what she’s gonna say?”

“No idea,” you tell her quietly. “I’m just praying it’s not another pyramid scheme of hers. I can’t get her out of any more trouble with those.”

The redhead looks at you curiously, but you don’t say anything else. You don’t want to admit that when Ava finds herself in legal troubles, she usually calls your mother and she helps clean up the mess pro bono.

The two of you settle into the library chairs amongst the rest of your coworkers, but Ava is nowhere to be found.

“Good lord,” Barbara mutters. “This better be worth staying after. I’m going to be late to dinner with Gerald.”

Your friend enters the library looking rather frazzled. “Hey, y’all. Listen, I gotta make this quick because I have to get to a hair appointment, but I wanted you to hear it from me before word got around: the district is trying to cut our budget, and with our budget being cut, that means they’ll cut the arts programs. I know y’all don’t want that, so start coming up with ways to get us out this mess!”

Before anyone can ask any questions, she leaves.

“What the hell?” Melissa looks angry- like really angry. Her nostrils are flared, her eyes are wide, and she’s balling up her hands into fists. “Barb, you and me to the mall. I’m gonna need a new shakedown sweater.”

With no hesitation, the kindergarten teacher follows her work wife out of the school.

That night, Ava calls you.

“Girl… you know what we have to do,” she tries to convince you to let out your secret about your wealth.

“No,” you say for the millionth time. “We are going to fundraise, we’re going to get the money so that they can’t cut it… I’ll work with Janine and the budgeting committee to see where we can make small cuts here and there to scrounge up some more money… but I am not letting my dad get wrapped up in this and be in his debts. You know how he likes to hold stuff like that over my head, and he will turn Abbott charter if we let him get involved with this.”

You work tirelessly to come up with multiple fundraisers, different presentations to bring to the district offices, and work with the budgeting committee to make small cuts where you have a bit of wiggle room. You even tell them they can cut your salary by 2% if it means a little extra money- it may not be a lot, but it’s something that you’re willing to give considering your sizable bank account anyway. You do all of this, on top of continue to work in your classroom. You’re exhausted.

You volunteer for the events that you’ve helped to organize, and so have quite a few of the other teachers.

“We are not losing the arts program,” Melissa fumes multiple times a week. “I need my prep to keep my sanity.”

“Amen to that,” Barbara usually remarks after that.

“If it means volunteering a few hours here or there for these events, I’ll do it,” the redhead tells you when you hesitantly approach her crew about helping out.

So, here you are with Melissa at the art show.

The conversation is awkward and stilted for quite some time before she finally sighs.

“You’re doing good,” she tells you. “I haven’t seen a turn out like this in quite some time.”

“Anything for the kids,” you reply. “They need it.”

“Why here?” she finally asks you the question that’s been eating at her for some time- since the first day you walked in really.

“I grew up in Philly,” you tell her. “It was time to come back to my roots, and Ava offered me a position. The stars aligned for me, and I’m quite content in my decision to be back in a city school. I can help make a difference for these guys like some of my teachers did for me.”

“For someone who’s friends with Ava, you sure have a lot more heart than I thought you would,” she admits.

You smile. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“How long you two been friends? Meet in college at the clubs?”

“Nah,” you laugh softly. “I grew up with Ava living a few houses down from me. We’ve been friends since I was the shy girl in the first grade who sat by myself at recess. Next thing I know, she’s next to me rambling on about whatever first grade drama was happening and telling me I was her girl. I still don’t know why she chose me to come up to that day. Maybe it’s because I actually listened to her. But we’ve been stuck together since that day.”

“You’re good for her,” Melissa tells you. “I haven’t seen Ava put in this much effort to something that doesn’t directly benefit her before. And I think it really does have something to do with you being here and leading a lot of it.”

“Thank you,” you smile again.

That night is where everything starts to change. Melissa slowly starts to show you the other side of her personality- the kind, would take a bullet for you if she had to side. You quite like it.

As the months go on, you still work tirelessly to put together different events to try to save the arts. Melissa even helps you plan a few, and she offers her “I know a guy” line when you’re looking for different ways to draw people in. The two of you begin to work closely in order to make sure that these events happen, and that they’re good. The redhead sees how hard you work and how driven you are. She respects it.

  You find yourselves chaperoning quite a few events- choir shows, band shows, a few school dances…

And while you’re at these events, the redhead sticks by your side through most of the nights. She finds that she quite likes being around you actually. She lets you into her personal life slowly. You tell her little bits about your life while still not revealing that you come from the line that you do.

She realizes that she’s starting to fall for you- and that terrifies her to no end. But she can’t quite pull herself away from you. Not now. Not after getting to know you and see how down to earth and honest you are with what you do- not after you’ve shown her that you’re here to stay and you’re going to show up for these kids in any way you possibly can.

Finally, the biggest event that you’ve planned, and your last attempt at hitting the quota to keep the arts program around for another year (you don’t even want to think about having to go through this charade all over again next year) is here. 

It’s another AvaFest kind of deal, but you’re able to utilize the outside part of your school grounds this year. Inside, there are smaller games, a few tables from local vendors, music provided by Janine’s ex-boyfriend. Outside though, is a whole other story. It practically looks like a carnival.

There’s a ball toss, a free-throw game, a balloon dart stand, a game to throw footballs through some holes, the dunk tank has been moved outside and a handful of teachers have volunteered to partake in it… all of the ticket stands and games are being run by various teachers and aides in the school. And the assortment of goodies around? Apparently, Melissa knows quite a few guys who participate in the food industry because you have a grilled cheese stand, a lemonade stand, a guy who’s making hoagies… she even knew a guy to come head a cotton candy machine for the event. And that’s not even naming all of the vendors.

You don’t have any assigned places to be because you’re overseeing that the event runs smoothly. So you’re milling about with your clipboard in hand, checking over the different stands. And while you expected Melissa to sit at the ticket table with Barbara, she follows you around and is your right hand man throughout the night. She checks in with the people that she knows, shoots the shit, and helps you solve any issues that arise through the night- not that there are many. You worked your ass off to ensure that everybody participating in this school wide event was compensated for their time and hard work.

“You really outdid yourself, hun,” Melissa comments quietly once you’ve found a moment to just stand and take it all in.

“Oh, I couldn’t have done it without everyone else helping,” you brush off her compliment. “You were a really big help, so thank you.”

“We all pitched in, but you’re the brains behind all of this,” she tells you. “Don’t sell yourself short. This jawn just might have to become an annual thing.”

“Oh, don’t remind me of what I’m going to have to pull of next year,” you groan playfully. “After this, I’m done with ideas for the year.”

“That ain’t true, and you know it. If something else comes up, you and I both know you’ll be the first one organizing something.”

“I know,” you sigh. But then you smile softly. “It’s all for the kids though. They deserve it.”

“They do,” she agrees. “And because of you, they’re gonna get it.” She gently hip checks you.

You blush and shrug.

“You got a real knack for this. If you weren’t such a good teacher, I’d tell you to go into professional party planning,” the redhead quips. She doesn’t know that you’ve been helping plan company parties with your parents for years now.

“It’s more a hobby,” you tell her. “I’m a teacher at heart.”

“A teacher with a damn good heart,” she corrects you.

“You think this is all gonna be worth it?” you ask her nervously. “Think we’re gonna hit the mark?”

“I’d put money on it,” she tells you honestly. “With the last events you’ve organized, and this one being our biggest success yet, I think we’ll exceed it.”

“God, I hope so.”

You don’t make enough money to keep the funding for the arts program. You’re devastated. Absolutely crushed. You burst into tears when Ava announces that bit of information sadly at the next staff meeting, rushing out of the room to try to compose yourself.

Melissa runs after you. You don’t really know why, but she does. 

“Hey,” she comes into your classroom, grabbing a tissue on her way over to you. She gently wipes your tears away. “We did our best. You did your best. And that… is enough.”

“It isn’t though,” you choke out. “We’re losing the arts program, and those teachers are going to be let go, and I-”

“I’m sure Ava will find somewhere else for them to be placed,” Melissa tries to comfort you.

“And- and we’re going to lose our preps, and… and the kids deserve to have the arts!” you cry. “When I was in school, that was my favorite part of the day, and now they won’t be able to experience that joy!”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to incorporate it into your lessons,” the redhead tells you gently as she pulls you into a hug. “You did everything you could… but sometimes at the end of the day, life sucks.”

“It’s not fair,” you whine.

“Life ain’t always fair, hun,” Melissa reminds you. “But we do our best with what we’ve been given. And now, all the money that we raised can go into buying supplies for the kids next year.”

You sigh and wipe at the last of your tears. You take a deep breath. “Y-yeah. Okay,” you whisper sadly.

“It’s gonna be okay, hun,” she promises you. “And who knows, maybe a miracle will happen, and we’ll get to keep the programs.”

And just like that, her words give you an idea. You know how you can make a miracle happen. You have to contain your excitement as the thought pops into your head. The two of you return to the staff meeting where Ava is rambling on about who knows what, but you’re itching to get out of there.

Once you’re dismissed, you head back to your classroom, open up your laptop and log in. You check your bank account balances, and pleased with the numbers, you pull up the GoFundMe page that was up for the school.

“You’re stayin’ late again tonight?” Melissa knocks on your door, purse slung over her shoulder and sunglasses already on.

“Just a few minutes,” you look up and smile at her. “I have a few emails I have to respond to.”

“Alright,” she taps the doorframe a few times. “Try to have a good night, yeah?”

“I will,” you tell her. “You too, Melissa.”

“Thanks, hun.” 

With that, she’s off, and you can go back to what you were doing. You click on the “Donate Now” button without hesitation.

You donate the first $50,000, and then another $50,000 anonymously, and you absolutely beam when you see that you’ve hit your goal and then surpassed it. Satisfied, you close out of the tabs and close your laptop. Now, you just have to wait for tomorrow morning when Ava, the organizer of the fundraiser, sees the email. You know she won’t see it tonight- she’s off the clock.

A few hours later, you get a text from your best friend.

Hey, you still holding up ok? she sends.

I’m alright, you text back. So she hadn’t seen the donations yet. I’m drinking wine right now if you want to come over.

Girl, say less.

She’s over at your house in less than fifteen minutes, and it takes everything in you to not tell her what you had done. She heads home after finishing off the bottle, bidding you a goodnight and a see you tomorrow.

You sleep like a baby that night.

The next morning, you’re back in your classroom setting up your science experiment for the day when Ava’s voice comes over the intercom.

“Attention Abbott Elementary: there is a mandatory staff meeting, right now. Start heading down to the library. That means you, Schemmenti.”

You grin as you stand back up straight and make your way for the door. Right before you exit, you put on your best neutral face.

“Damn,” Melissa groans as she leaves her room. “Tell your friend not to call me out like that. I skip on meeting, and she’s all over me.”

“I don’t control what she does, and you know that,” you chuckle.

“What do you think this is about?” she asks you as the two of you make your way down the hall.

You shrug. “For all I know, it could be that she got a manicure and wants to show it off.”

The two of you find seats at your table, Barbara arrive a few seconds later.

“What on Earth could this woman have forgotten to tell us yesterday?” the kindergarten teacher huffs. “I have things to do!”

“I was setting up my science experiments for the day,” you grumble. “If this isn’t worth it, I’m making her set the rest of it up.” You know it will be worth it.

“Good morning, subordinates!” Ava makes it known that she’s entering the library. “I have some great news!”

Everyone silently urges her to go on.

“I have no idea who did this- sure as hell wasn’t me- but, we got some donations after school yesterday!” She projects the webpage up onto the screen.

Everyone gasps when they see how much money had been donated last night. To keep up appearances, your eyes widen, your jaw drops, and you well up with tears. Acting classes from when you were younger sure are paying off now.

“Oh my- Oh my god!” you shout, and Melissa is hugging you tightly.

“So, thanks to these very generous donations, we’re able to keep the arts programs up and running for at least the next three years!” Ava grins.

“Well, who donated?” Janine asks. “We have to find out so we can thank them!”

“Who cares?” Ava rebuts. “We got what we wanted! Now back to work, slackers!”

You stay in your seat, pretending to be in complete and utter shock while everyone else starts to get up. Almost every teacher comes up congratulating you and telling you that your hard work paid off. Melissa sits with you, happy as can be, and only reaffirming what everyone else is already telling you. Only once everyone else has left does she say anything else.

“Y/N,” she grins. “This is incredible. I told you your hard work would pay off. It’s a freakin’ miracle!”

“Y-Yeah,” you match her smile. “God, this is great.”

The two of you sit there for some time, chatting about how you could use some of the funding to buy more supplies and the likes until you remember you still have to finish setting up your science materials.

“Oh shit!” you whisper. “I- I gotta go finish setting up before the kids come in!” You take off in the direction of your room, and the redhead can only watch you as you go with a lovestruck look in her eyes.

When you’re halfway there, you hear Ava’s voice over the speaker again. “Y/N, my office.”

“Fuck,” you mumble as you halt sprinting down the hallway and turn to make your way down to her room. There was no way you would be able to finish preparing for today at this rate.

“This better be quick. I have to-”

“You donated that money, didn’t you?” Ava gets right to the point.

Your eyes widen. Your cover was blown with her, meaning it was going to be blown quickly among your colleagues as well.

“Well, was it?”

You nod subtly. “But please… don’t say anything. Please. I did it for the kids, and I have enough stashed away, and-”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” your best friend grins. “Why you think I didn’t say nothin’ at the meeting today?”

“You’re the best,” you sigh in relief.

“Don’t I know it,” the principal cackles. “Now, fo’ real. Come shoot an instagram video with me to announce that we met our goal.”

“Ava, I actually have-”

“I’ll tell,” she singsongs. “C’mon. We need our fearless leader and organizer to be part of the video.”

“Fine.”

The two of you finish the video about five minutes before the kids will start to show up, and you practically sprint back to your classroom to attempt the impossible task of finishing setting up.

When you get there though, Melissa is in your room just finishing up the last station.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quietly as you make your way into the room.

“Nah,” she shrugs. “But I wanted to. I got the time.”

“Thank you,” you grin.

“Noticed your coffee cup was empty too,” she notes. “So I made you a new one. Hope that’s alright.”

You walk over to your desk and take a sip of the warm drink. It’s perfect.

“Thank you,” you make your way over to her and squeeze her shoulder gently. “Seriously. You just made my day.”

“Nah, that mysterious donor did,” she chuckles. “But I’m glad I could help. Have a good morning, and I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you mock salute her. “Thank you again.”

You greet your children at the door, coffee mug and heart both full. Melissa greets her own students, but she can’t stop watching you. You’re just… so perfect. She knows she’s falling for you hard. Maybe at the end of the week she’ll confess her feelings- no, she will. She makes up her mind: she’s going to confess her feelings to you by Friday, if not before. She just has to work up the nerve to do it.

At lunch, the conversation is almost solely on who the mystery donor is. You play dumb, and you tell everyone that you’re just happy the school gets to keep their program from next to Melissa.

“I know a guy who could find out for us,” the redhead tells your colleagues.

“Oh, do it,” Janine grins. “That way, we can have our kids make cards and send them to the person to thank them! Oh my god- do you guys think our donor is Taylor Swift?! She does stuff like this sometimes!”

“She usually puts her name to it,” you chuckle. “But seriously, I think we should just be grateful. Ava and I already thanked the person on the school’s webpage and social media, and I think that should suffice.” You really don’t want to be found out.

“I already got the guy on the line,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she types away on her phone. “I’m gonna have to make a tray of ziti and some meatballs as payment though.”

You bite your lip. You really, truly pray that her guy won’t be able to find you out. But, her people usually come through for her… maybe just this once, they won’t be able to?

“Oi, Y/N,” Melissa taps your elbow gently.

“Hm?”

“We lost ya there for a second,” she tells you. “I asked if you would come over to help me make the food, since we’s in this situation because of your fundraiser.”

“Oh,” you blush. “Uh, sure. When?”

“You got anything goin’ on tonight?” she asks. You shake your head. “Then tonight. I’ll text you my address. Bring a bottle of wine.” At that moment, she silently promises herself she’ll talk to you about her feelings for you.

You nod and continue to eat your lunch quietly, letting the conversation around you continue as you continuously plead with the lord that they don’t find out it’s you who donated all that money.

You show up to your coworker’s house promptly at 5:30, like she asked, with a nicer bottle of wine in hand. You hope she’ll like it.

When she opens the door, you have to stop yourself from blushing at the sight of her. You’ve seen her at school, and you wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but you find her attractive there. In the comfort of her own home though, she’s almost even more gorgeous.

“Hey,” she opens the door. “C’mon in. I got all the stuff ready.”

You enter quietly, offering her the bottle of wine. She pulls her glasses from off the top of her head and puts them on before inspecting the bottle.

“Damn,” she says. “You got good taste, but expensive taste.”

“I figured I could splurge for a celebration,” you offer up.

She leads you to the kitchen and pulls out two wine glasses before pouring some into each. Once you have yours in hand, she quietly raises her own in a toast.

“To this mystery donor,” she says quietly. You clink your glass with hers before sipping on the wine.

By the time all of the food is in the oven, the two of you have gotten through about three quarters of the bottle and plan to finish off the rest on her couch.

“This was nice,” you tell her quietly.

“Yeah,” she hums, but you can tell her mind is clearly somewhere else.

“Hey, penny for your thoughts?” you ask her. 

She hums again, still wrapped up in her own inner turmoil over telling you that she has a thing for you. 

“Mel,” you tap her gently, the nickname rolling off of your tongue for the first time. 

She snaps out of her trance.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” you ask softly.

She bites her lip nervously before whispering, “Please don’t hate me for this.” And then she gently presses her lips to your own.

Your eyes widen before you kiss her back just as tenderly. When you need air, you pull back.

“Oh, god,” she whispers.

“Hey,” you set a warm hand on her knee. And then you lean in and kiss her again so she knows that you aren’t upset with her; you don’t hate her.

“So…” she hums when you two part again. “I- I have a thing for you.”

“You wouldn’t say?” you tease her. “If it wasn’t clear, I like you too. I just didn’t think you would ever go for someone like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she frowns. “You’re… you.”

“Yeah,” you laugh weakly as you run a hand through your hair. “I’m me. Shy, quiet, dorky… always working… friends with Ava.”

“Mm,” she hums as she shifts closer to you. “You are you: hard working, driven, down to earth, kind… heart of gold… gorgeous.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “C’mon, Mel.”

“I’m serious,” she tells you as she tucks a hair behind your ear. “I like you because you’re you… I tried to hate you so hard at the beginning of the year, and I just… couldn’t.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask her.

“Nope. From the moment I found out you were the one that changed my lock and fixed my door,” she admits.

Your eyes widen slightly at that confession. “You knew?”

“I thanked Mr. J that day, and he told me it wasn’t him,” she shrugs. “That he saw you come in early with a bag from Home Depot. I put two and two together.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh. “You could’ve told me you knew.”

“There was never a right time for it,” she chuckles. “But I figure now is the right time to say thank you the way I wanted to then.” She kisses you again.

That night, the two of you talk over how you’re going to continue on with this little… situation you’ve found yourselves in. You’ll take it slow. You bid her a goodbye with a lingering kiss before climbing into your car and heading back to your house.

Sleep washes over you easily that night, content with what had just happened at Melissa’s. 

The next day continues on as it normally does, although when no one is around in the corner that your classrooms are in, the redhead will sneak into your room and kiss you passionately. She’s found that she quite likes kissing you, and you don’t mind one bit. She hasn’t heard any news from her guy, and you feel like you’re in the clear. They won’t find you out. 

But come the following day, as you’re sitting in the break room with Janine, Gregory, Jacob, and Barbara, the redhead comes storming in.

“You!” she points a finger at you. In her other hand is a stack of papers.

You practically jump out of your skin when you hear her booming voice. “Me?” you whisper.

“When the hell were you gonna tell us who you really were?!”

“Melissa,” Barbara furrows her brows. “It is too early for this.”

“No, I think now’s a great time for this. When the hell were you gonna tell us that you were the donor?! When were you gonna tell us that your Y/N, daughter of one of the most famous day traders and one of the most prestigious lawyers in the area?!”

You turn bright red, and you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes.

“What?” Janine gasps. “Melissa, you have to-”

“See for yourselves!” She throws the papers in her hands on one of the tables.

The rest of your friends gather around to look at the papers. There’s a screenshot of the transaction with your name, and then there are a few papers from an article that ran a couple of years ago about one of your dad’s parties and being able to secure a deal. In the image, you’re in the background drinking a glass of wine next to your mother. They all look to you with wide eyes.

“Wow,” Jacob whistles. 

“When the hell were you gonna tell us?” Melissa asks you again. “You know the trouble I had to go through to get this information? How much deep diving I did once I saw your name? You coulda saved me a trip to the grocery store and hours of cooking and cleaning if you would’ve just fessed up!”

“I- I’m sorry,” you whisper as you wipe at your tears and make your way out. You head back to your classroom, coffee abandoned at your seat, and lock the door. You keep it locked despite the various knocks that come and go to check on you after your quick exit. 

“Melissa,” Barbara tries to calm her friend down. “I know you’re frustrated that you went through all of that effort, but… Y/N was doing it out of the goodness of her heart, and she clearly didn’t want to be found out.”

“I know,” the redhead sighs once her fire has died down a bit. “I was too hard on her, wasn’t I?”

“I’d say so,” the kindergarten teacher admits.

“Shit,” she mutters. “I gotta fix this.”

You only unlock it when you know it’s time for your students to start arriving, but you don’t dare go stand at your door like you usually do. You don’t want to face Melissa- not yet. You don’t think you can. You’ve only just started to explore what could happen between the two of you, and you’ve already ruined it by not telling her who you were. You avoid her for the morning.

Come lunchtime, you don’t even bother to head into the break room. You just suppose a granola bar from the stash that you have in your room will have to suffice and hold you over until you can go home today.

You lay your head down on your desk- it’s pounding because you didn’t get to finish your caffeinated drink.

You hear her boots against the floor before you can see her. You think she’s just going to pass by your door and head into her own room, but she stops in your doorway. In her hands, she has a mug full of coffee, your lunch, and dozens of handmade cards from the students.

“Hey,” she says gently.

You don’t answer. She makes her way into the room and sets everything on your desk before she makes herself comfortable.

“Eat,” she instructs.

“Not hungry,” you shrug.

“Then at least drink the coffee I made you,” she tries. “I know you get headaches when you don’t have enough caffeine in your system.”

You shrug. She raises her eyebrows though, and you meekly reach for the cup. “Thanks."

“The kids all made you cards,” she tells you gently. “Thanking you.”

You look at them with a sad smile.

“The staff put some cards in there too.”

“That’s nice,” you say numbly.

“C’mon, hun,” she sighs as she lays a warm hand on your shoulder. “This stuff normally makes you happy.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, resigned. “But I fucked up. I didn’t tell you who I was, and now you’re mad at me, and I probably ruined whatever we have goin’ on here. I’ll pay you back for the money you spent on the food by the way.”

“No need for that,” she waves you off. “Was I pissed when I saw your name on that paper? When I realized who you actually were? Yeah. A little. But… you single-handedly saved our arts program. You organized all of the events, and then when that wasn’t enough, you donated so much that we get to keep that program for at least the next five years.”

“Yeah, for the kids,” you sigh. “It’s all for them.”

“And besides,” she chuckles quietly. “If I didn’t have to make that food, I probably wouldn’t have kissed you that night, I woulda found out who you were before tellin’ you how I felt, and then I really would’ve been pissed with you, and what we have going on here wouldn’t have happened.”

You shrug. “I ruined it though.”

“You didn’t ruin nothin’. I’m not mad anymore, and I’m sorry I was as hard on you as I was,” she promises you gently. “I still like ya. I still wanna see where this goes, if you do.”

You look up at her, glassy eyes and all. “Really?”

“Yeah, hun. If this showed me anything, it’s that you’re a really good person, and I made a really good choice fallin’ for you.”

You blink a few times in disbelief. So you didn’t ruin this. You still have Melissa in your life- she doesn’t hate you.

“Do you wanna see where this goes?”

“I do,” you say softly.

Her lips meet yours, and you only part when you hear a collective gasp from the teachers who had quietly followed Melissa down to ensure that she wasn’t going to cause any fights.

The two of you pull back, cheeks red.

“Uh, surprise?” you say nervously.

[angelflungoutofspace]

abbott elementary season 3 ep 1 & 2 REVEIWWWWW

idk why but I thought y'all might wanna hear what I thought about the season premierrrrrr!!!! it was so good and so chaotic. so many things going on at once.

when Janine walked out and revealed as district, I HAD A HEART ATTACK. but then the context helped. im just a little confused because didn't the Manny the district guy say Janine could go back into her class 1-2 days out of the week to teach?? or was it just to go around about hearing feedback?? it was so sad to see Janine's kids not caring about her presence and the super mean substitute. But, that one little boy, Alex, made my heart just warm!!!! It just reminded Janine why she's doing what she's doing!!!

omg and Janine and Gregory?? the way Janine HAD THE CONFIDENCE to go talk to Gregory about her feelings at the beginning of the school year??? like where did that bravery come out of, and she handled the rejection so well. like honey. I would have DIED. but also.... the way Gregory just... moved on???? well, I get why. bro has to protect himself, but like come on greggy boy, don't tell me YOU DONT just feel a little of love for Janine???? but I love the way writers handled it at the end. they didn't leave the awkwardness for the season and that is something I APPRECIATE. and at least we know that Gregory and Janine still want to be friends and still miss each other platonically.

am I being paranoid for being scared of Manny the district guy???? Like my boy Jacob had a point. Manny WAS giving me some crush vibes and it doesn't help how nice and genuine he is. LIKE IM LITERALLY FALLING FOR HIM. and his mom was a teacher??? I would love to see him more, but just not as another pawn in Janine and Gregory's relationship. but, I knowwwww better. and my girl QUINTAAAA will make us wait.

I think Janine is getting really confortable and friendly with the district crew and it's kind of scary me because if she gets TOO comfortable, she won't want to leave. I think when the fellowship ends, they'll offer her a permanent spot on the team and she'll want to take it but still teach at abbott.

Barbara was so cute this episode, with her makeup. and with how honest she was to the district. as some who works at a high school and has been dealing with a particularly horrible district and administration, Barbaras words hit too close to home. but she realized that the whole district team is essentially just 4 Janines with the power and position to make things happen. and I think she's really opening up to relying on the district more.

omg my girl Melissa. honey., I was so scared every time Gary made a marriage joke. and when he proposed I HAD A HEART ATTACK AND FOR A SPLIT SECOND I THOUGHT MELISSA WAS GONNA SAY YES and the rest of the season would be wedding planning. but as embarrassing and heartbreaking as it was for Melissa, she stayed true to herself and was mature to end the relationship. and my girl just crying made me cryyyyy omg. she looks so sad even though she was the one to break up with Gary, AND I KNOWWWWWW SHE'LL STILL BE HEALING. I don't think this is the last well see of Gary since he goes to the school every Thursday, but I think it'll be the end of their relationship permanently. but now that Melissa knows fs was wants to date and knows she doesn't wanna get married, I think she's gonna be in her exploration phase. HOEEEEE PHASSEEEE. god please send Melissa a gay awakening PLEASEEEEE. she needs a rebound and no better rebound than a woman. that would be so fun and so true to her.

but yeah thats all I think so far. and it was a great epsidose and a great start to an already unpredictable season!!!

[amanjinka]

Movement One

(A/N: The prelude and first movement took me 20 days to finish [I used to be able to write 2k words in less than a week] Absolutely wild from start to finish, had both a lockdown due to a potential bomb and a shooting threat at my school. Hope everyone has fun.)

The first week back in school was pretty average for me. Even though we started on the 6th, nothing happened until the 11th. That was the day of that big subway crash.

I remember I couldn’t sleep very well the night before, so I got up early to get ready. That was also the day that I emailed my boss to make sure my work schedule got changed.

```

“Thank you very much in advance,it was a pleasure to speak with you, [l/n] [y/n].”

After a quick read through, [y/n] rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and hit the enter key to send off her email. She pushed back from her simple desk and stood up, stretching deeply to further wake herself up. 

After quickly shutting the lid of her laptop, she crossed her room to don her school’s uniform and prepare for the day. ‘Did Hanabi ever bring back those nail gems of mine?’ She wondered, inspecting her faded manicure as she slipped on her ivory coloured socks.

For a brief minute, she debated styling her hair differently from normal, but after a failed attempt or two, she sighed and fell back on her usual look. A couple more layers, a bit of mascara and a spritz of perfume later and she was all ready to head out. Luckily, the walk from dorm to school building wasn’t intensive, and the mid-spring breeze kept her from feeling the slight discomfort of her new shoes as they rubbed up against her ankle. Less than five minutes later, she stood in front of the front entrance to Kosei High School. 

```

It was only a few minutes into the first class of the week and already [y/n]’s phone was being bombarded by chats from her friends. Quietly, she slipped her phone out of her bag and began to read up on all she had missed. 

☆Momo 7.57 - There’s a criminal in my class this year. 😶

☆Hanabi 8.01 - ?? WDYM 

☆Momo 8.01 - I mean theres a kid with a criminal record who’s gonna transfer to Shujin this semester. 

☆Momo 8.01 - That’s what I heard at least but he hasn’t showed up yet so I wonder if Mishima was just trying to scare us lol.

☆Yuna 8.01 - You have Mishima in your class? And the transfer student???

☆Momo 8.02 - Yeah, he looks like he went to hell yesterday. What’s going on in your guys’ practices???

☆Yuna 8.02 - He just sucks lmao. Gets hit all the time.

☆Hanabi 8.03 - Which one was Mishima again? Did we see him at the tournaments last year?

☆Yuna 8.03 - He’s the kid with the short dark hair. He never got to play so you probably never saw him. Not like you went to watch the boys match anyway. 

☆Momo 8.03 - Yeah he was at the tournaments.

☆Hanabi 8.04 - He didn’t go to middle school with us, did he??

☆Momo 8.04 - Nah, I think he went to one in a different district. 

☆Yuna 8.04 - Thankfully!

☆Momo 8.05 - Thankfully?

☆Yuna 8.05 - Hes a total kiss ass.

☆Hanabi 8.05 - Yuck.

☆Momo 8.05 - Oh yeah..

☆Yuna 8.06 - I stayed up way too late last night, about to pass out in homeroom.

☆Hanabi 8.06 - Teacher is here, one sec.

☆Yuna 8.09 - Did [y/n] fall into a pit on her way to school or something? How come she hasnt said anything..

☆Hanabi 8.10 - Lol she’s probably just actually paying attention.

☆Momo 8.10 - Omg speaking of [y/n] I still need to send her the dates for the concert lol.

☆Yuna 8.11 - Why didn’t she just ask the director?

☆Momo 8.12 - 🤷‍♀️

☆Momo 8.13 - Is Shiho in class today? I meant to ask her about her birthday plans but didn’t see her this morning. ☹️

☆Yuna 8.13 - Nah, she’s out today for a funeral. 

☆Momo 8.13 - Oh. My bad... Well I’ll text her later then.

☆[y/n] 8.20 → ☆Momo [🤷‍♀️] - I don’t know the director’s email address.

☆Momo 8.21 - It was on the sign up sheet and the like every other paper we’ve gotten.

☆[y/n] 8.21 - I don’t have any of those with me, they’re at my mom’s house.

☆Momo 8.21 - then text your mom??

☆[y/n] 8.22 - :( 

☆Momo 8.22 - Whatever. It’s the 28th, 29th, and 30th of April.

☆[y/n] 8.23 - Thank you Momo, I love you <33

“[l/n] [y/n]?” A male voice rang out from beyond [y/n]’s screen. She quickly jolted in her seat, shoving her phone into her desk and looking up to acknowledge her teacher.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you said,” [y/n] said, her voice fading as her embarrassment set in.

“I can tell,” He responded, crossing his arms. “I just asked if you could could tell me what it is called when we do geometric calculations on a non-flat surface. ”

“That’s non-euclidean, I think..” She whispered. 

“Yes. Thank you very much Miss [l/n]. It would do you good to turn off your phone before class starts next time so you could answer the first time I ask,” he reprimanded, then turned to move away from her desk and back to the front of the room. 

Shifting down further into her seat, [y/n] focused her gaze to her legs so her peers would not see how red in the face she was. What a great start to the day…

``

“[y/n] are you working this weekend?” Hanabi asked as the two walked the halls during lunch time. 

“Yeah but I’m going to be Sundays only for the first couple weeks back,” [y/n] responded then took a quick sip of her drink.

“So you're free Friday afternoon? Cause I was thinking we could go and get our nails done professionally instead of just doing them ourselves."

"I have rehearsal right after school but I'd be free after 17."

"The salon I looked at closes at 20 so we're totally fine,” Hanabi smiled,”It’s only like a 7 minute walk from the station so I���ll just wait for you there.”

After a short silence, [y/n] sighed,“I’m so not ready for that performance.”

“Momo said there was gonna three nights of it, is that for real?”

“Yeah, I’m really not looking forward to it.”

“My brothers going to be back in town pretty soon so I might take him to watch you two.”

“You’d be better off watching a bunch of crickets hop around. It would probably be more to your liking anyway.”

“Yeah well the more you say that the more I want to go.”

“Aww Hanabi, come on!”

“Oh what’s that? Is the bell ringing? Well I guess i’ll get a head start and order my tickets on the way to class! See you [y/n]!”

All I could do was sigh and head back to my class. That concert ended up pretty good, but it was overshadowed by all that stuff with Mister Kamoshida.

The rest of that day was pretty uneventful. I just met all of my teachers and walked back to my dorm after school ended. Hanabi wanted me to run over to the store with her, but I was still pretty tired so I skipped out on it. 

After changing into a more comfortable outfit, [y/n] fell down onto the edge of her mattress and laid her head back as she let her body sink into the soft blankets and comforting scents. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, before a loud and obnoxious buzz reverberated throughout her body.

Groaning, she turned over and pulled out her phone, turned it to silent then skimmed through the notifications.

“Detective Prince Akechi on Mental Shutdowns: ‘It could happen to anyone’”

“Everything to know before watching ‘The Cake Knight Rises’”

“4 dead in subway accident, more injured. Driver comatose.”

Hah…

None of it was interesting in the slightest. 

Clear, clear, and clear!

Finally, [y/n] opened up her messages and scrolled up to check just how much she had missed after the morning.

☆Momo 13.12 - He’s real.

☆Momo 13.13 - Transfer student came in after lunch, hes honestly kind of scary looking. Like disheveled almost. He didn’t even introduce himself either.

☆Yuna 13.14 - Kizana said she saw him come into the school with Sakamato. He still hasn’t showed up to class though so maybe he’s getting chewed out.

☆Momo 13.14 - Oh so he really is a delinquent. You think they were up to something or what?

☆Yuna 13.14 - No clue, but she said the same stuff you did. Told me he looked like he was gonna snap at any moment. 

☆Momo 13.15 - 😗

☆Yuna 13.15 - stop that.

☆Momo 13.15 - 🎱

☆Yuna 13.15 - About to come over to your class and tell your teacher to kick you out. 

☆Momo 13.16 - 😱

☆Hanabi 15.36 → ☆Momo[He’s real.] - Did you ever find out what he did? 

☆Momo 15.45 - Only rumours.

☆Hanabi 15.46 - boo.

☆Momo 15.46 - Not like hes just gonna show up and say “Hi, I’m your new classmate, I’m on probation for armed robbery” or something.

☆Hanabi 15.47 - I wouldve.

☆Momo 15.47 - Sure.

☆Hanabi 15.53 - They’re all out of the good brand of rice crackers.

☆Hanabi 16.04 - Hey @[y/n] do you want me to get some of your [favorite drink UwU]? They have your flavor here.

☆[y/n] 16.07 - yes please 

☆Hanabi 16.08 - Alright. It’s buy two get one so I got a new type too.

☆[y/n] 16.08 - You’re my number one Hanabi. Forever and always baby <3

☆Hanabi 16.09 - So you’ll pay for the nail salon?

☆[y/n] 16.09 - I can if you really want me to.

☆Hanabi 16.09 - <3

☆Momo 16.10 - Thought I was your number one forever and alwats 😞

☆[y/n] 16.10 - Alwats.

☆Hanabi 16.10 - Alwats

☆Momo 16.11 - Alright what if I died in a plane crash tomorrow and that was the last thing you ever said to me.

☆Hanabi 16.11 - Then I’d be [y/n]’s number one forever and always for true and real and always and alwats

☆Momo 16.12 - Okay then bye I’m going to go die. [y/n] I will always love you, not Hanabi though she’s my enemy.

☆Hanabi 16.12 - Absolutely.

☆[y/n] 16.17 - I’m going to go do my homework you guys. 

☆Momo 16.17 - Loser.

☆Hanabi 16.17 - booo.

The rest of that week went by really quickly. I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary really. I did my best in class, did my best in practice, did my best to talk to the people around me. It felt like the year was going to be really uneventful to be honest, but all I really had to do was wait until that friday and everything really kicked off.

[ye0ncore]

it’ll always be you - yang jungwon

hello loves! i’ve really been missing writing so here i am trying to get more fics up for you guys. i have school, work and a sport to juggle so updates may be a lil slow but just bear with me lol. also, this fic took way too long to get together, my tumblr is fucking high. anyways, love you guys <33

>> pairing: jungwon x female reader

>> synopsis: you and jungwon have always been best friends. and that’s all you saw each other as. or so you thought. that was until you got an outside perspective.

>> rating and genre: pg, fluff

>> warnings: kissing scene, a few curse words,

>> word count: 1834

“so y/n, is there any special boy in your life right now,” your new friend daeji asked, a mischievous smile on her face. you giggled and shook your head at the question, the smile staying on your face. you had only met daeji a few days ago but you already loved her. she was a transfer student from another district and the both of you had gotten very close, very quickly.

both of you are still in the process of getting to know each other, hence why the question was asked in the first place. “what?! how is there not, i’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you. is there anyone you’re into, though,” she continued, making you smile once more at her kindness.

“no there’s not,” you confirmed, making her slump in her seat. you laughed once more, and as if on cue, jungwon walked up. daeji perked up at someone of the opposite gender walking up to you, a small smirk on her face. you had mentioned jungwon once, but only as a close friend. she had never actually met him, and she was not disappointed. you’re pretty, he’s pretty so why weren’t you dating?

“hey y/n,” he said, his eyes bright and his smile wide. you greeted him back and motioned for him to sit down, which he immediately did. he set his backpack down and his eyes landed on daeji. “who’s this, y/n?”

“oh, jungwon, this is daeji. she’s a transfer student and one of my new friends. daeji, this is jungwon, my closest friend at this school,” you said with a smile, it widening when you turned to jungwon. daeji smiled and waved, and glanced at you, noticing how close you and jungwon were sitting. ‘there’s no way they aren’t dating,’ she thought.

the three of you sat there for a while, speaking about anything that came to your heads. that was until jungwon had to go and meet up with jay. apparently they were partners for a project and needed to work on it. “alright, it was really nice to meet you, daeji. bye y/n,” he said, leaning down to give you a hug. you two hugged the same way you always did, your arms around his neck, his arms wrapping around your waist. he gave you a small smile before rushing off to find jay, leaving daeji awestruck.

you looked at her and laughed at the shocked look on her face. “what,” you asked, still giggling.

she looked at you like you were insane. “y/n who the fuck is that, and why aren’t you dating him?” now it was your turn to give her a weird look.

“jungwon? no no we’re not like that. he’s my best friend,” you assured her, but she clearly didn’t believe you. which was understandable.

“best friend my ass, y/n. you’re in love with each other and i can see it! the way you looked at each other… holy shit i’ve only ever seen that in movies.” did he really look at you like that? “and you look at him the same way! a few other guys have come up and talked to you within the past few days and you didn’t look at them anywhere near the same way you looked at jungwon.”

“i told you daeji, he’s my best friend. we’re not like that,” you said once more, but that doesn’t mean the thought didn’t creep into your brain. all she did was laugh and call you crazy once more, saying her final goodbyes to you for the day. you made your way home and you couldn’t help the fact that what daeji said was stuck in your head.

she had a point. you and jungwon were always close. you had been best friends since you were little, so he always had a special place in your heart. did jungwon really look at you the way she said he did? and did you look at him the same? you tried to shake off the thought. there’s no way it would work. but you still felt that little bit of hope.

the next day at school, you met up with jungwon like you always did. every morning, without fail, you and him always met up by your car so you could walk into the school together. when he walked up to you, you took notice of the way he looked. really took notice. he was wearing a black and white striped sweater, and black sweatpants, his hair a perfect mess atop his head. your breath got caught in your throat. he looked amazing. how have you never noticed this before?

oh who are you kidding. of course you noticed. you always noticed, you just never wanted to admit it. he walked up to you, a big smile on his face. you greeted each other the same way you always did, a hug and a small ‘hello.’ except, this hug was different. you hugged the same type of way, but it just felt different. he lightly squeezed you, making you laugh and the only thing going through your head was how badly you didn’t want to let go.

unfortunately, he did let go, and led the both of you into the school. you two walked in with huge smiles on your faces, daeji giving you two a smirk when she saw you. you walked up to daeji, jungwon glued to your side, daeji immediately taking notice. ‘the only people who don’t know how they feel about each other is each other, this is just sad,’ was exactly what was going through daeji’s head.

so when the first bell rang and you went off to your class, hugging jungwon goodbye, she decided she needed to do something. after you walked off, jungwon continued to watch you for a moment, not turning back until daeji pretended to clear her throat. after she did, he whipped his head back to her, acting like nothing had happened. all she did was give him a knowing look, and he visibly deflated. “why are you looking at me like that,” he asked, still playing dumb.

daeji simply scoffed. “you like her.” jungwon froze in his spot, immediately tried to deny it. “don’t even try to give me the whole ‘she’s my best friend’ thing, i hear it enough from her when she tries to deny her feelings for you.” jungwon’s heart dropped to the floor, as did his jaw. did he hear her right?

“i’m sorry, one more time. what???” daeji laughed at his reaction.

“you both are so oblivious. everyone can see the feelings you both have for each other, except the two of you,” she explained, jungwon still looking like a deer in headlights. he simply couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

daeji was right. jungwon had developed feelings for you a very long time ago. he had seen you at your best, when you turned 16 and got your drivers license. and he had seen you at your worst, when your first boyfriend broke your heart. he stuck with you through all of it because he loved you and he never wanted to be without you. did you really feel the same?

“go find her, jungwon. i’m tired of seeing the both of you pine after each other. even if i’ve only known you for a day.” jungwon only nodded, running in the direction you left in, frantically searching around to find you. then he remembered exactly where you would be. the art room. that was the class you had just gone too, and he knew the teacher. they were cool with each other and you and the teacher were also very close.

he rushed to the art room as fast as his feet would carry him, the only thing on his mind being you. when he finally arrived he pulled the door open and his eyes immediately locked with yours. you smiled softly at the sight of him, stopped what you were doing and walked up to him. “hey. what are you doing here, aren’t you supposed to be in chemistry,” you asked, your tone soft and playful.

“uh….yeah i am supposed to be in chemistry… mrs. fleming might kill me, but there’s something i need to tell you, and i don’t know how much longer i was going to be able to wait,” he explained, his nerves building every second. you simply nodded, grabbed his hand and pulled you into the empty hallway. the small touch sent waves of electricity through you, bringing a wide smile to the both of your faces. if only you two knew what was about to go down.

“alright, here goes nothing. i was just talking to daeji and she called me out for staring at you…” his tone was soft and comforting, calming your nerves immediately. but as soon as the words left his mouth about daeji, you knew she had said something.

‘great, now he knows. he’s just gonna tell me he doesn’t see me like that. oh god let’s just get the rejection over with,’ was the only thing spinning through your mind. your mind didn’t even process that he said he got caught staring at you.

he seemed to notice your hesitation, but he knew he had to get this out in the open. “y/n i know this may be overwhelming and a lot to take in but i really need you to know how i feel.” he took a deep breath, and relaxed when you took his hand in yours.

“you can tell me anything, jungwon.” your calming voice was enough to give him the confidence to finally get the words out.

“alright so… y/n i really really really fucking like you. you’ve been there for me through absolutely everything and you’re genuinely the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen. you make me so damn happy and i’m so thankful to have you in my life. whether that’s you as my friend or something more. i just wanted -”

you cut off his rambling by pressing your lips against his. you supposed he wasn’t expecting it because it took him a second to respond, but eventually he was kissing you back. one hand found it’s way to your waist and the other cupped your cheek. both of your arms were wrapped around his neck, pulling the both of you closer to one another. the kiss was soft and passionate, making it clear the both of you had been wanting this for a while.

when you finally pulled away, both of you were breathing heavier, but there were wide smiles on your faces. his hands stayed on your waist as he pulled you into a hug, you nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. “the feeling is mutual, jungwon.” you felt like you could hear him smile, him pulling you even closer if that even possible. “it’s always been you. it’ll always be you.”

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Domesticated Drabble

Pairing: Bang Chan x Y/N

Genre: Marriage AU; Sequel; Drabble

Warnings: So. Much. Fluff. (small smut scene at the beginning); language

Request: 

A/N: Finally finished this one! Please enjoy another taste of my favorite AU!

5 Years Later

“We’ve got five minutes,” I whispered against the pulse point on Chan’s neck, the throbbing vein pumping hard as he panted for breath from above me, eyes shut tight together as he moaned.

“I’ll blow at any second,” Chan cursed, laying sloppy kisses wherever he could reach while fucking me hard and fast.

“Your cock feels amazing,” I practically purred, digging sharp nails into the milky white skin of his back, legs closing in around his waist to keep him close. 

“Oh, sweetie, you’re laying it on thick this morning, aren’t you?”

I clenched a vice-grip around the length pumping inside me in response, sending Chan’s hips stuttering against my own. “I’ve got kids in the next room who can wake-up at any second. Excuse me for trying to inflate your ego.”

“That’s not the only thing inflating,” Chan gasped, curling his fingers through mine.

“You’re gross,” I huffed, closing my eyes and throwing back my neck as best as I could in this position: laid out under my husband, orgasm approaching at a meteoric-level speed, and sweat coating my skin in a delightful sheen as the muscles around my abdomen worked overtime to milk Chan for everything that he had before the moment was ruined by my kids. 

I half-expected them to burst into the room unannounced at any second, oblivious to their parents fucking in much of the same way that created them in the first place. Locked together with limbs intertwining, sucking in each other’s air, and kisses rough and demanding. 

Fuck it had been far too long since Chan and I had last done anything even remotely this intimate, and it was still necessary for us to go at it as fast as possible to prevent unwanted eyes from accidentally catching us at the height of our passion. 

I couldn’t help but glance at the clock, realizing that we had been fucking for almost ten minutes, and the alarm had been set for 7:00 AM so that I could somehow wrestle my kids together for their first day of school. 

Damn, this is gonna turn out to be a very long day.

“Are you close?” I asked Chan, connecting our lips for a sweet kiss since I personally knew that they were a weakness of his.

“Yeah,” he said, features collapsing into a look of pure concentration as a guttural moan found its way crawling up his throat to release itself at the same moment when I could feel his release emptying into the condom separating us from complete skin-to-skin by a thin layer of latex.

But I insisted on wearing them now.

“You’ll cum too, sweetie,” Chan whispered, laving his tongue across the pad of his thumb before reaching down to connect with my clitoris, drawing rough circles in random patterns to snap the physical breaking point: holding my tongue to prevent myself from screaming as I rode the waves of pleasure until nothing was left but a delicate haze and the sensation of Chan’s cock still stuffed inside my spent pussy.

As it turns out, aftercare with Chan was the equivalent of my husband spewing my praises while insisting on letting his cock soften completely before pulling out: cock warming at its finest.

“Do you plan to pull out?” I asked him, smirking when he whined and buried his face into the side of my neck.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been like this,” Chan remarked.

“The kids need to get up soon,” I said, although there was a sleepy pull weighing down my eyelids. A good fuck tended to wear me out. “They’ve got their first day.”

“Yeah,” Chan agreed, but he made no effort to separate us. In fact, I could imagine us both easily falling back to sleep.

“You’re coming right?” I asked around a yawn. “To their Kindergarten orientation or whatever the hell they call it.”

“Of course,” Chan said, and he finally lifted his head from my shoulder, gaze soft as he took his time to explore my features. “I can’t miss that.”

“What? Watching the teachers drag them away for the first day of the education system they’ll be stuck in for the next thirteen years?”

“You have a way with words, sweetie.”

I grinned. “Maybe I’m just using words to deny the weirdness of my kids starting school and making me feel like I’m 100 years old.”

“It feels like they were just born,” Chan agreed, and he slowly rose himself into a sitting position, climbing out of bed to give me the best view of his naked ass.

“Your ass looks great by the way.”

“Thanks,” Chan snorted, reaching for a pair of black slacks from the floor. “I’m taking a shower.”

“Fine,” I groaned. “I guess I’ll go awaken the sleeping monsters.”

“Let the chaos begin,” Chan announced, closing the bathroom door behind him as I reached down deep into the reserves to muster enough energy to finally get out of bed.

At the risk of sounding too long-winded, the best way I could describe my twins was with a touch of irony. Because, despite looking identical to one another, my girls couldn’t be more opposite in terms of personality. 

Leah, the eldest by one minute, was boisterous, loud, and unapologetic when it came to being herself. She was the epitome of a social butterfly, jumping from one person to the next and asking questions that occasionally raised a few eyebrows because of their brazenness.

Her sister, Rose, was nothing like that. In fact, Rose hardly spoke at all, choosing to listen instead, and offer her voice only when she truly felt the need to include it. Of course, side-by-side, they were another thing altogether, far too energetic for me to handle.

This morning was no exception, chasing Leah around the house because she refused to change out of her pajamas, questioning me relentlessly on why it mattered that she had to change.

“I should wear what I want!” she insisted, and I had nearly lost my patience with her until Chan entered the room, and he was one of the only people who could talk through to Leah.

Him and Felix, of course.

Before Felix moved out, he and Leah were practically inseparable, and I could see her uncle’s influence in a lot of different ways.

“You want to look your best to make new friends, right?” Chan asked her, and after a laughable look of concentration, Leah nodded and allowed me to change her into a much more suitable dress.

“There,” I grumbled, turning my attention to Rose who was more willing to be dressed.

“Let’s go have breakfast, yeah?” Chan whispered to Leah, and she smiled and giggled at her father as he took her hand and led her into the kitchen. 

I scoffed at how easy he was able to manage her, glancing at Rose who was even more quiet than usual. “Aren’t you excited for your first day?”

She shrugged, looking down at her hands. “I don’t want to leave you.”

I could feel my heart breaking at her sweet words, cupping her face between my hands as I tried to reassure her that she would still see me in the afternoons and evenings. “It’s just a little break,” I said, but I knew that Rose was harder to convince.

In the meantime, Chan and I worked together to have both twins fed and ready to leave the house, packing them lunches for school before ushering everyone out the door because we were teetering on the edge of being too late. 

At least Chan had the wherewithal to warm-up the car, and it gave us more time to fasten everyone into their car-seats before pulling out onto the main road, speeding into the downtown district with the clock ticking away. “Well, at least the other parents will think we’re irresponsible.”

“I’ve got this,” Chan said, and I shivered as he toed the gas and grazed just going over too fast. 

“At the risk of getting a ticket-”

“Relax, sweetie,” Chan interrupted, reaching over to take my hand. “I’ll handle everything.”

“Uh-huh,” I murmured, glancing up into the rearview mirror to see Leah and Rose engaged in their learning tablets. Even if they were a few minutes late, my kids would still be the smartest. I had made sure of that, spending countless hours with them reading as many books as I could buy, digging out paper and pencils to practice their names and alphabet letters, and reading tons of online articles about the best methods to ensure your child’s early learning set them up for the most success.

Right? So what if we were a little late.

“Mommy? Why can’t you both stay with us at school?” Rose suddenly inquired from the backseat.

I sighed, turning around to face her. “Mommy and Daddy both have to go to work, okay? We’ve already had our turn at school.”

“Our turn?” Chan chuckled, and I pivoted in my seat to glare at him.

“That’s the kind of language we should be using with them!”

“Did you read that from an online expert?”

“As a matter of fact, I did!” I huffed, and I caught his smile, letting me know that he was just messing around.

“I just want them to do well,” I whispered, and his expression instantly softened at the sound of my tone.

“You’ve done so well, sweetie,” Chan reassured me, squeezing my hand even tighter as he turned into the school’s parking lot, finding an empty spot near the back.

Immediately, I was at the back door, reaching inside to help Rose out of her seat, spinning her around to help her with her brand new bookbag. “There,” I said, once her attention was on me again. “You’re ready.”

“I don’t know...” Rose trailed off, and her eyes held all the uncertainty of a five-year-old who was used to staying at home with her parents and uncle. Not the unfamiliar presences of her peers. 

“Hey,” I said, kneeling down to meet her gaze straight-on. “I know it seems scary, but I promise that you’ll really love it. I was the same way too on my first day, but my mom gave me the same advice, and guess what? She was right. I ended up loving school, and if there’s a little piece of me in you, then I know that you’ll have so much fun that you’ll forget all about your mommy and daddy.”

Rose’s eyes grew bigger, shaking her head in a manner that was quite endearing. “I won’t ever forget you.”

“I know, sweetheart,” I said, pulling her close for a hug as Chan and Leah emerged from the other side.

“Everything okay?” Chan asked, looking between me and his daughter.

“Just fine,” I said, ruffling Rose’s hair before standing tall again. “Let’s go inside.”

The classroom was already full of students, and I was glad to see some parents lingering, which meant we weren’t as late as I had thought.

“Told ya,” Chan snickered, and I gave him a playful glare before turning my attention to the approaching teacher: an older gentleman with a head of pepper and salt colored hair and kind eyes.

“Hello,” he said, addressing me first. “I’m Mr. Park.”

“Hi,” I said, accepting his handshake. “These are my daughters: Leah and Rose Bang.”

“Ah!” Mr. Park remarked, glancing down. “I’m excited for our twin students! Please, have a seat wherever you’d like.”

“Go on,” I encouraged them when I caught their matching looks of insecurity. “You have each other,” I added, reaching down to wrap their fingers together, giving them one last smile before Leah bravely led her sister further into the room, selecting an empty table near the back.

“Well, it’s so nice to meet you,” Mr. Park said, and I noticed that he had grown a little too close, gaze lingering for far too long. 

“Yes,” I agreed, “And this is my-”

“I’m Chan,” my husband interrupted, inserting himself between me and Mr. Park with a brusque movement. “The father.”

I rolled my eyes at his tone, watching as Mr. Park hesitated before nodding and shaking Chan’s outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you.”

I smirked, waiting until Mr. Park had moved on before leaning in to Chan. “What was that, dear?”

Chan scoffed, searching the room for a moment. “He was flirting with you, sweetie. What did you expect me to do?”

“Well, it could be from our morning romp, but it kinda turned me on.”

Chan raised a suggestive brow at my comment, but I gave him a cheeky smile in response before walking in the direction of Leah and Rose’s table. “Look at you two,” I remarked. “I think you made a good choice.”

“I like seeing outside,” Leah said, and I nodded and tucked away a wayward strand of hair. 

“You’ll both stay together, right?”

I received synchronous nods in response, and there was a lot of relief on my end knowing that my girls would be just fine. 

“We’ll be here to pick you up at 2:00,” Chan said, pointing to the analog clock above the door. “Okay?”

Two more nods. “Remember to have fun. You’re gonna learn so much, and maybe you’ll even be smarter than daddy.”

I managed to elicit two laughs in response to that, and Chan chuckled as he wrapped an arm around my waist. “Be good, alright?”

“Yes, daddy,” Leah replied diligently while Rose nodded her head, attention drifting to a book sitting at the edge of the table.

I smiled knowing that she was showing interest, and then I realized that there was a deeper part of me that was having just as much trouble leaving the girls as they were having with leaving me and Chan. But the other parents were starting to leave the room, and with one more exchange of our goodbyes, Chan and I were walking away from our girls, keeping our own hands locked together as the door closed behind us.

“Woah,” I sighed once we were outside in the hallway. “That was harder than I expected.”

“It’s a big step,” Chan said, and he wrapped an arm around my waist to pull me closer. “But they’ll be okay because they’re ours.”

“Oh,” I laughed. “Is that so?”

“Of course,” Chan said, giving me a perfectly serious look before a smile overtook his features, and any previous doubts were vanquished by the sincerity in that smile, and I knew that as long as I had Chan, then nothing would ever be too difficult to overcome. 

[haileyyanneupton]

🎆intertwined🎆

burzek oneshot

warnings: mention of miscarriage 

masterlist | series masterlist 

When the pregnancy test came back with two defined lines staring back at her, Kim had no idea what to do or how to feel. After losing her first pregnancy, the doctors had told her that the likelihood of her being able to conceive again after sustaining such trauma was slim to none. Standing inside of one of the stalls in the district bathrooms wasn't where she had ever imagined having a bombshell like this unleashed upon her, but alas — there she was. The world had stopped to a halt around her; how could this be possible? 

"Hey Burgess! You in here?"

The sound of Hailey's voice snapped the brunette back to reality, her hands trembling ever so slightly as she kept her eyes trained on the plastic object in her hand. Despite being able to hear Hailey's footsteps growing closer, Kim was at a loss for words. It was as if her vocal cords had spontaneously paralysed themselves — no matter how much she wanted to force out the words, she was in too much shock to be able to do some. "Sarge is looking for you upstairs. Something about —" Hailey cut herself off as she pushed open the unlocked door to the stall Kim was in without warning. The panel hit her arm — hard — but Kim was too numb to feel it. That's gonna bruise, she thought.   "Shit, sorry!" Hailey's face contorted into one of guilt as she raised a hand to her mouth, but the guilt was quickly replaced with concern as she caught a glimpse of her friend's expression. "Kim? What's wrong?"

There was a piercing silence for a few moments before Kim finally raised her head to look away from the object in hand and instead at Hailey. Her eyes locked with the blue eyed girl and in the same second, the words spilled out of her lips without any warning. "I'm pregnant." Hailey's eyes widened. "You — You're — What?" "I'm pregnant, Hailey. I'm. . . I'm pregnant." Hailey wasted no time in pushing her way into the stall, standing beside Kim as she craned her neck over to see the test. As soon as she too saw the two lines, no matter how faint they may have been, a grin burst out onto her lips as she grabbed her friend's arm excitedly. "Kim! You're pregnant!" Hailey exclaimed in a hushed tone. "This is good, right?!" Kim stared numbly. "I — I don't know. This wasn't meant to be able to happen. It wasn't — I don't . . ." Despite it coming as a shock, both Adam and Kim were overjoyed at the news once it finally hit each of them. Kim was quick to go on leave; she didn't want to get herself in the same situation she had gotten herself into last time. Adam wasn't opposed either, especially with her pregnancy being marked as high risk from the moment the test came up positive. She was bored and miserable the whole time, but that all went away the very second that her baby girl was placed into her arms, wrapped in a pastel purple blanket and looking more beautiful than either of her parents could have ever imagined. Born at 4:17am on the 22nd of April, Baby Grace Nicole Burgess-Ruzek was Kim and Adam's new pride and joy. The first few days (and nights) were rough. After being discharged from the hospital, acclimating themselves to what living with a newborn was like. Sleep was quickly slipping away from them, and despite the fact that they could stare at their child for hours and hours on end — Grace was a particularly colicky baby even at just a few days old. Kim was tired, sore and frustrated. Rocking Grace in her arms, the crying baby only ten days old, her eyes were barely staying open. "Kim." Adam entered the room yawning. "Give her to me so you can get some sleep — God knows you need it." Kim shook her head stubbornly, still rocking side to side with the newborn. "I'm okay. I just can't get her to stop crying." "You just gave birth and you've barely slept for the last week. You can go rest, babe — I've got her." Adam came up behind the woman and their new daughter, wrapping his arms around them from behind as he kissed Kim's neck affectionately. His touch was warm and more than welcome to the woman whose mind and body had been to hell and back to say the least. "I don't wanna leave her," Kim mumbled into Adam's arm, her head resting against him as she let her eyes flutter shut. "She's crying." "She's not upset, babe. Remember? The doctor said some babies just cry a lot." "Adam, I'm biologically inclined to feel the need to respond and help the baby — I can't ignore it. You and your man brain can just tune it out." "My man brain?" "Yes. Your stupid man brain." "I think that might be the sleep deprivation talking," Adam laughed as he planted a kiss on his fiancée's neck, rocking the three of them back and forth comfortingly until they all could get even just a little bit more sleep. 🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆 Kim and Adam got married just after Grace's second birthday. Little Grace was the flower girl and practically stole the show away from the couple, winning over everybody's hearts when she stole the microphone from Hailey at the ceremony to sing about Minnie Mouse. "Hey, little miss! Give your Aunty Hailey back the microphone! She was actually saying something nice about me for once!" "Uh uh!" Grace cackled loudly, a grin on her face as she held the microphone close to her chest. "My turn!" Anybody in that room could see the love that Adam possessed for his little girl as he scooped her up into his arms, his face lighting up at the sound of her infectious laughter. Everything that man did was for Grace and for Kim — he loved them more than anything in the world. By the time Grace was four, Kim was the one to take her to her first day of preschool. She would be lying if she said she wasn't a little bit emotional at seeing her only child off, but she kept a brave face as she knelt down in front of her and held Grace's tiny hands in her own. "You feeling good about today, Gracie?" Kim asked, a small smile on her face. "Duh! I'm gonna make so many new friends, Mommy!"  Grace rocked back on her heels with a grin. "I just wish Daddy could'a come with us." "Surprise!" Both Kim and Grace looked up to see Adam standing behind them with a lopsided smile. He was still in his uniform after working a patrol shift, both girl's faces lighting up with joy. "Daddy!" Grace ran up to her father and hugged his leg, giggling happily to herself.  Kim was relieved to have her husband there with her as she too gave him a quick peck on the lips, looping one arm in with Adam's while the other hand rested on her daughter's shoulder. "What are you doing here, Daddy?" Adam glanced over at Kim with a chuckle. "I figured your mom might need some emotional support. . . and I couldn't not come for your first day of school, kiddo!" "It's gonna be so great. I'm gonna play with so many toys and I'm gonna paint and play in the sand and swing on the swing and use the building blocks and —" "Okay, Grace," Adam let out a hearty laugh at the four year old's enthusiasm. "Take a breath. You don't want to lose your voice before you even go in there." As their daughter bounced up and down on the spot while waiting for the doors to her classroom to open, Kim couldn't help but find it difficult to stop herself from choking up slightly, her hand finding Adam's for comfort as he gave it a light squeeze, knowing how she was feeling all too well. She wouldn't ever admit it, but Kim had definitely taken her time in getting Grace ready that morning, slowly doing her hair and taking in every second so that it wouldn't feel like her baby was growing up as fast as she was.  It seemed like just a few months ago she was holding a little infant in her arms —now, she had an independent, headstrong and ever-so-stubborn four year old with dark brown hair and eyes that resembled honey. She was a perfect mixture of both of her parents, both in looks and personality, leaving those who met her in a spin to say the least. It took all of Adam to let go of Grace's hand that morning, and even more of Kim to stop herself from weeping as she peppered her daughter's face with kisses to hide her bittersweet sadness. "You make sure you be nice to the other kids, okay?" Kim told her daughter sternly between kisses. "And if you need anything, Mommy took the day off of work today so you can call me and I'll answer, okay? And make sure you eat all of your lunch! Oh, and for the love of God — don't take your shoes off and lose one again, baby — just don't take them off at all. And if anybody is mean to you or —" "Mommy." "Yeah, Gracie?" "Stop talking now. My class is goin' in." Kim let out a strained chuckle as she nodded lightly, giving Grace's arms one last rub as she stood back up. "Mommy and Daddy love you very much, okay?” Adam grinned from beside his wife. "And we hope your first day of big school is a good day." As her teacher made the last call for students and both Adam and Kim watched their daughter walk inside of the classroom, time sped up even more than they ever could have though from that moment on. Next thing they knew, Grace was turning eleven and about to start middle school. She spent most days after school helping out Trudy at the front desk for some pocket money, and although at first her parents had been opposed to it, it became apparent very quickly that Grace and her Aunt Trudy got along like a house on fire. Grace was a hard worker — Trudy liked that about her — and after the eleven year old had gotten a hold of the ropes, she wasted no time in putting her to work. Grace loved it too — there was something about the chaos that comforted her (just another way that she was like Kim and Adam). The twenty-first district was practically Grace's second home, and she wouldn't have had it any other way. "Whatcha doin, Grace?" Adam had asked as he came downstairs to check on his daughter midway into his shift. "Having fun?" "Oh, tons of fun! I'm sorting out these papers and answering the phones. See? These ones with the red dots in the corners go into the 'important' pile, these ones with the purple dots go into the 'tomorrow' pile and the ones with the blue dots go into the 'not worth anybody's time' pile!" "I bet your Aunt Trudy taught you that last one, huh?" A face-eating grin exploded onto Grace's lips. "Duh." "Alrighty," Adam gave a small chuckle at his daughter's endless enthusiasm for the tasks that he would rather smash his head into the wall than do. "Your mom and I will be finished around eight, and then we'll head home, alright? You can order yourself food if you want, otherwise we'll pick something up on the way home and have a late dinner." "Kay. I love you." "I love you more, kiddo." Her father gave a quick ruffle of the hair before jogging back up the stairs to Intelligence, causing her to make a face as she smoothed it back down before getting to work once more, ever determined to make everybody proud. 🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆 It was nearing on one in the morning, and after working on a particularly difficult case, Kim had come home to Adam and her daughter who was sleeping soundly in her bed. Kim would be lying if she said that the kidnapping case they had just closed hadn't shaken her to her core — two kids, one of them Grace's age; it was a lot for her to handle. Walking towards her daughter's bedroom, Kim stood in the doorway as the ground gave a subtle creek beneath her weight, the woman staring and watching Grace just to calm herself down. "You okay?" The sound of Adam's voice had come as a shock to Kim, who quickly swung around in surprise before relaxing as she realised who had crept up behind her. His hair was stuck up and across his face in every direction by the hands of what looked to Kim like sweat; the hot Chicago summer had done a good job at keeping the house at an uncomfortably warm temperature all day and all night. "Did I wake you?" Kim whispered back to Adam, her hand finding his which had perched itself up onto her shoulder softly. She had purposely dodged his question, in fear that she wouldn't have an answer to provide him with.   "No, you're fine," he shook his head in response. "I was still up. You know I can't sleep when you're not home." Kim gave a small, partially forced smile. "I know." There was silence for a few more seconds as both Kim and Adam listened to their daughter's light snores, the sight of her brown hair strewn across the pillow while holding a purple toy in her hands somewhat consoling for the two of them before Kim finally spoke up. "I just . . . I had to see her. Hear her. Today was so — it was. . . " "I know." Adam wrapped his arms around Kim, pulling her closer into him as her head found its regular place on his chest. "They were the same age as her, you know? It's just . . . It's so scary to think that — that . . . " Kim's voice had trailed off, but nothing more needed to be said. The unspoken words were enough, and standing there all together provided each of them with enough comfort to ease their aching hearts, even if they didn't know it. Adam's hand had found Kim's at some point, their fingers intertwined perfectly in with one another as if each crack and crevice had been purposefully placed so that the other hand would simply snap into position. Their little family wasn't much — but it was theirs. Beautifully and indescribably so. 

a/n: honestly the thing i’m looking forward to most right now is annie’s reaction to this lmao girl’s gonna lose her shit

tagging: @detective-buttercup @ruzek-halstead @lissethsrojas 

[dadsbongos]

School Worker AU fic(?)

Movie/Game/Show: Danganronpa (just in general) Dynamic: idk fuckin everyone is in their senior year though Warnings: all of the danganronpa cast - unless otherwise specified - is in their senior year of hs Summary: Tsumugi makes a documentary. AU: Hope’s Peak is a shitty public school that makes their senior students work around the district in self-made or pre-existing programs in order to earn a crucial credit they need for graduation. A lot of the students want a “raise” in their wages because of the work they do, even though “raise” just means any money at all. ~~~

Maki twirled a long strand of her brown hair around her finger, eyes flickering over it boredly, “Yeah, I want to get paid for this.”

Kaito’s eyes widened, an uneasy smile crossing over his lips and nervously looking between his girlfriend and the camera, “Oh, c’mon, Maki-roll, it’s not about money! It’s about the kids!”

“It’s about the money,” Maki glared at the camera, “Pay me.”

~~

“How do I feel about being paid?” Kaede giggled nervously, looking to her other two bandmates, “Well, it’s not about the money, we like playing for kids and the elderly.”

“Ibuki mostly agrees,” the girl with wildly multi-colored began, “However, Ibuki would also like to be paid for our hard work.”

Sayaka nodded shyly, a small smile on her lips, “I like working for the kids and elderly, but I also would like to have said work rewarded, if I could.”

~~

“Yeah,” Hajime picked up yet another empty plastic water bottle with a gloved hand as he responded to the question, “I would love to get paid but nobody gives a shit about the kids cleaning.”

Chiaki, who wasn’t even holding her trash bag - preferring to have her face stuffed into her handheld, “Not paying us is the school’s way of preparing us for the years of unpaid extraneous labor ahead of us in an adult working environment… I think.”

~~

“I should be gettin’ fuckin’ paid,” Mondo grit his teeth, no longer soaping up his math teacher’s car with Kazuichi and just looking at the camera, “I don’t get stared at by those fuckers,” he jabbed a thumb in the direction of a small gaggle of giggling freshman, “for free. I hate this shit.”

Kazuichi nodded, “I don’t even get to remodel the cars! I just wash them, that’s so lame!”

~~

“Duh - yeah, I wanna get paid!” Junko scoffed, rolling her eyes, “What am I? Twelve? I don’t do this shit for nothing!”

Mukuro sighed quietly, practically elbow deep in the dirt, “You don’t do anything…”

“The hell did you say to me, you fat, ugly, skank?” the blond pressed a stiletto boot into her sister’s back, shoving her face-first into the flower beds Mukuro would now have to redo.

~~

“So,” Tsumugi Shirogane held a mic to her mouth as she stared into the camera, “with so many students demanding a raise in wages, which would mean any wages at all, let’s get to the core issue of why these students feel that their work is so reward-worthy.”

A few feet away, Mikan was watching the hostess of the documentary with nervous eyes, her heart racing as she turned to Rantaro, “Oh my God, is she g-gonna ask us questions? I’m n-not good at speaking. I-I’ll stutter and mum-mumble and she’ll ask me to re-repeat myself, oh God…”

“Hey,” Rantaro gave the girl a small smile, carefully setting his hand on her shoulder, “it’ll be okay. I can do most of the talking, if you want?”

Mikan nodded shakily, fingers intertwining and scrambling apart repeatedly, “Th-that would be p-preferred, tha-thank you…”

As Tsumugi crossed towards the students, she stuck a microphone into Rantaro’s face first, thankfully. Quick to the point, she asked him the question of the segment, “Why, exactly, do you think your work is worth the funding of payment?”

“We do basically the same amount of work that the ordinary school nurse does under regulation and we’re certain our efforts are worthy of payment,” in order to avoid the awkwardness of Tsumugi having to ask Mikan, he gestured to his partner in nursing, “We both are.”

Nodding, Tsumugi moved to place the microphone into Mikan’s face anyway, “And your thoughts?”

“Uhhhh,” Mikan froze up, patting the tips of her fingers into each other, “y-yeah?”

“Yeah, what?”

“Yeah with Rantaro…”

Tsumugi blinked at the girl, standing there for a minute before slowly nodding and turning back to the camera to continue her segment.

Mikan turned to Rantaro with wide eyes, tears already bubbling at her waterline, “Oh my God… I just did that… I just- I - oh my God…”

Rantaro nodded, crossing his arms with a pitying smile, “Yeah, that was pretty bad.”

~~

A loud, resounding thud was the opening sound of the shot, a girl landing flat on her back on a gym mat is the scene. The gymnasium is filled with a multitude of students in fighting stance - a tall girl with red eyes and a short boy with blond hair standing at the front.

Tsumugi narrowly dodges stray hits and flying bodies being tossed over shoulders as she approaches the two senior students. She judges how confrontational they both look and decides to not hastily jam her mic into either of their faces as she asks, “And what is the program you two have picked up for your required credit?”

Peko doesn’t look away from the students as she answers, “Self-defense.”

Fuyuhiko nods, “Any-fuckin’-body can sign up but most of these kids are girls and LGBT+. They’re who mostly comes.”

“Which is a whole different problem on its own,” Peko added, “The fact that they feel the need to learn self-defense rather than trust that nobody will try attacking them for simply walking down the street is rather saddening.”

“Oh, well that’s incredibly noble of you,” Tsumugi breathed out, slightly surprised - she hadn’t expected such mean-looking students to care so much

“Someone has to beat up scumbags,” the taller of the pair shrugged, “My arms were getting tired.”

“Right…” Tsumugi nodded, “uh, you two share this gym with another group, correct?”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” Fuyuhiko glanced to one of the clocks encaged on the wall, “They should be back in- “

“We’re here for the gym!” a voice boomed out in the space, “Move out!”

“No!” Fuyuhiko shook his head, charging towards the pair and the volleyball team they were coaching that day, he jammed a finger into the girl’s shoulder, “You asshats are always too early! Peko and I got another ten minutes, at least!”

“Well, they need the gym now!” Akane gestured to the team, which was awkwardly standing around and waiting for the approval of Nekomaru and Akane to spread out to the gym, “‘Sides, it’s just five minutes!”

“Eight, now,” the blond crossed his arms, “They continue, you guys wait your turn.”

Seeing no soon-to-come resolution from the pair, Nekomaru moved past Fuyuhiko and Akane as they argued and towards Peko at the front. He rubbed the back of his neck, “We really need the gym right now. You can take our last ten minutes tomorrow if that’d be fair.”

Thinking over the proposal, Peko nodded before picking up the whistle from around her neck and blowing into it before calling to the self-defense class, “Alright, dress out and head home! Remember what you’ve learned and stay safe! Tomorrow, we’ll be meeting out by the baseball field!”

Fuyuhiko sighed, clenching his eyes shut to avoid looking at Akane’s smug grin, “You’re lucky Peko stepped in or I would’ve laid your ass out on the mat.”

“Whatever you say, baby face,” the girl snickered, strolling by to join Nekomaru’s side.

“What did you call me?!”

Tsumugi looked to the new faces, “Do you two fight like that often?”

Akane nodded confidently, “Constantly!”

Sighing, Nekomaru lowered his head, “That’s not a brag.”

“And you two do what around the school?”

“We pick up the school’s teams when the coaches are busy,” Akane pat her outrageously buff partner’s back, “You should see coach Nekomaru out there! He’s like a pro!”

“Well, that’s certainly something!” Tsumugi giggled, “And I can assume you two want to be paid for your efforts?”

“We’re supposed to be paid for this?!”

~~

“Oh my God, leave us alone, you guys are so mean, assholes!”

“Don’t say that, we’re on school grounds! A teacher could walk by at any time!”

“Can you two please be quiet? They’re not even responding to you at this point.”

“We must focus on this column entry!”

“Y-yeah… so s-stop bothering us…”

Tsumugi hesitated, looking at the camera with furrowed brows, “Do we even want to go in?”

The camera shifted with the director’s nodding, the girl sighing loudly before quietly agreeing and pushing the door open to see a classroom with only five people in it. A short boy with untamed purple hair being held back from clawing at the back of a girl with long braids and glasses by another boy with greenish hair… God, what color was that?

Another girl looked up from the desk she was sitting at, “Are you here for the documentary on student payment for their work efforts involving school credit?”

“Yes, I am,” Tsumugi was incredibly tempted to lie, say she got lost, and run out - but she didn’t. Instead, she asked them to introduce themselves.

“Kyoko Kirigiri,” the girl at the desk introduced herself with a solid nod before returning to her work.

The boy holding back his friend finally managed to calm the purple-haired one down before shyly waving, “Shuichi Saihara,” to prevent the other boy from talking, Shuichi clapped a hand over his mouth with an exhausted look, “This is Kokichi Ouma. Us three solve ‘mysteries’ around school, it’s mostly just stolen items. They,” he pointed to the pair on the other side of the room, “write the school newspaper.”

Kokichi managed to release himself from Shuichi’s grasp, immediately rushing towards Tsumugi and grabbing her long skirt between his hands and throttling her, “Help! They’ve kidnapped me! I’m being held against my will!”

“Ah!” Tsumugi screamed, looking up to Shuichi, “What is he talking about?!”

“He’s a liar,” Kyoko piped up, “He’s annoying but he gets the job done quickly so I haven’t kicked him out yet.”

The girl across the room huffed, “C-can you s-shut up over there? And you,” she pointed at Tsumugi, “hurry up and get over here s-so we can get b-back to work…”

“Right,” she nodded slowly before going over to the pair, “You two write the newspaper, that must include some interesting stories.”

“N-not really… I’m T-Toko Fukawa. That's Hi-Hifumi Yamada…” she gave the boy a side-eye, “Don’t say anything w-weird…”

“Never!” he cheered, turning to Tsumugi, “I am Hifumi Yamada- “

“Yeah,” Tsumugi sighed, already rather exhausted with his loudness, “Toko already introduced you.”

“But you may call me by my online dubbing - The Alpha and The Omega!”

“Alright,” Tsumugi dryly replied - he didn’t seem awful, but he definitely wasn’t for her.

“Wait!” Kokichi whined as the girl was leaving, grabbing at the tail of her skirt, “Didn’t you hear me earlier?! These creeps kidnapped me! They’re gonna kill me!”

“Stop talking,” Kyoko mumbled.

Shuichi sighed, running his hands through his hair, “Please, Kokichi, you’re giving me grey hairs and I’m barely eighteen…”

Tsumugi rubbed over her eyes, exhaustion ringing over her, “Me too and I haven’t even known you for ten minutes.”

~~

“No more crazies… no more crazies… no more crazies…” Tsumugi repeatedly murmured to herself as she rubbed her temples. Finally taking notice of the camera pointed at her, she hissed, “You better cut that.”

Once again, there was the motion of a nod from the director before following Tsumugi around to the back of the elementary school neighboring Hope’s Peak to find two more groups. This time, however, the two groups were working together extremely well and weren’t fighting whatsoever. Who knew how refreshing it could be to not hear yelling for five minutes?

It seemed that the third-grade student body had been split in half between a group of two and a group of three. The two were monitoring as kids ran around the large field - the three had kids standing at canvases with just a few bouncing around one with long hair tied in what appeared to be fishtail braids.

“Aw,” Tsumugi smiled at the sweet sight, “Okay, let’s go over there.”

A voice popped up from behind the camera, “I heard about these girls from the headmaster. Those two,” he pointed over to a muscular girl picking up kids on her arms with a shorter girl trailing behind her, “are Sakura Ogami and Aoi Asahina. They go around to closeby elementary schools and set up field days for the kids,” then to the group of three, made up of a white-haired girl in a long yellow overcoat, a redhead with extremely pointy boots, and the fishtail girl throwing obviously fake hits with some kids, “They’re Angie Yonaga, Himiko Yumeno, and Tenko Chabashira. They teach kids about the arts. Except for Tenko who teaches them her made up Neo-Aikido, something about controlling emotions and all that junk.”

“Wow,” Tsumugi breathed out, still approaching the two groups, “that’s so great. They seem like a fun- “

Then, out of nowhere, Tenko suddenly tossed Angie over her shoulder, causing an eruption of cheers to burst from the children.

Tsumugi’s face fell, she turned around and nearly ran out from behind the school and towards the car. Chants of “no, no, no, no” leaving her lips.

~~

“Oh, finally, normal people…”

The two boys in the copy room looked up at Tsumugi’s sigh.

“You must be the documentary girl?” the brunette smiled slightly, unevenly, “Sorry, I don’t know your name,” he lifted up a stack of papers, “Kyoko probably mentioned it but I was grading.”

“Tsumugi Shirogane!” the white-haired boy cheered, setting down the papers in his hands, “You’ve come to get my worthless opinion on whether or not student workers should be paid?! How incredible!”

“Sorry about him,” the shorter of the pair chuckled, “He has an inferiority complex. We’re working on it.”

“Uh-huh,” not as bland as she thought, apparently, “You two are… TAs?”

“Yeah,” the shorter nodded once again, “We work under Miss Yukizome, but lots of students everywhere are TAs, so I don’t think we should really have a say in this…”

“Especially me!” the other one butted in, “I barely help at all… I’m just garbage…”

“Nagito, you’re not garbage, and you do a lot!”

“With all respect, Makoto, the only reason you’re stuck with me is because all the other teachers can’t stand me!”

“Well, the only reason I’m here is because nobody else had a spot open.”

“Do you two just comfort each other about your hang-ups?”

“Yeah,” Makoto nodded, already pulling Nagito into a hug and patting his back, “it’s nice. Like super amateur therapy.”

“Painfully normal in comparison to the others,” Tsumugi turned to the camera, “Almost as plain as me.”

“No,” the voice from behind the camera peeped up again, “You’re still definitely the plainer one.”

~~

“We duel-work animal care and the occult,” Sonia cheered, holding a small puppy in her arms as Gundham fed hamsters in the back of the room, “It’s quite a bit of work but we manage, don’t we?”

Gundham nodded silently.

“Does…” Tsumugi gestured to the boy, “Does he ever speak?”

“You haven’t built enough resistance to the poison that would slip from his lips, unfortunately,” Sonia shakes her head, frowning slightly, “He doesn’t speak to people unless they’re immune.”

“And you are?”

“Surprisingly, yes!” eyes lighting up at the question, Sonia nodded excitedly, “It seems that I have managed to build up an immunity to his poison without even realizing it! Is that not amazing?”

Refraining from rolling her eyes, Tsumugi merely glanced between the beautiful blond and the boy hiding his bright red face in his scarf, “It truly is amazing, yes. How wonderfully random.”

“Wanna go?” the director asked.

“Yeah…”

~~

The camera aimed at a downcast Tsumugi, a frown depressingly obvious over her features. The voice behind the camera popped up, “Wanna try Celestia at the math club again?”

“And get told that only people she hates more than her own clubmates are theatre kids and then get called theatre kids and yelled at to get out again?” the girl grumbled, letting her microphone fall down into her lap as she sat slumped against the wall, “No thanks, Monokuma.”

“I mean, she’s not wrong,” the camera turned to show off the boy going by Monokuma with heterochromatic black-and-red eyes, half-and-half dyed hair between white and black. He snickered, “Yeah, I’m a big theatre kid. It’s unfortunate. You are, too, just let it go.”

“She might be right, but it’s still mean!”

[chilling-seavey]

ABM Daniel taking the girls (or any of them) to their school play and just being the most supportive dad ever known ++ 🥺 making sure he gets front row and cheering the loudest to let them know he’s there 🥺

I can just imagine him being the parent all the other parents gush over & complimenting his daughter’s performance and he’s so proud

Stop I actually love this because it’s so true to him!! Here’s him being a supportive dad for all three girls!!

Clementine

The audience watched the stage like a tennis match, the points going from side to side between the teams from the two different elementary schools. It wasn’t terribly thrilling to watch eight twelve-year-olds discuss if zoos are unfair to the animals held captive, but the city-wide semi-finals were not to be taken lightly. Being only seventh-graders, the teams worked together to form their arguments to either prove or disprove the topic depending on what side the judges assigned them, but Clementine always liked to take charge and her fellow team members didn’t seem to mind.

Sitting in the front row – of course – was her family; parents and two sisters, and they watched as she stood up to say her part, spewing out facts a mile a minute to the opposing team. Florence fed six-year-old Lucy slices of melon to keep her somewhat entertained while Daniel was leaning forward in the plastic gymnasium chair with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, eyebrows furrowed up to the stage as his eldest finished her tangent.

“In conclusion, although zoos must improve their kindness to the animals to keep them safe, these exhibits are perfect ways for students and kids and families to learn more about biology and the world and should be kept around for next generations to visit.”

The audience applauded and Clementine sent a proud smile to the direction of her family behind the bright lights of the stage and she sat herself back down, folding her hands together on the tabletop in front of her. The judges took a moment to assess both sides of the argument and the room fell into silence as they waited for the results.

“If she doesn’t win, this thing is rigged.” Daniel muttered to his wife. Florence only smiled at him and ran her hand down his back.

The judges took to the centre of the stage with the microphone in hand, a second judge holding the debate team trophy for the winning school with four others for the winnings students to take home.

“The winner of the Toronto District School Board Elementary Debate Team Competition is; Market Lane Elementary.”

You best bet Daniel was the first one out of his seat to applaud, cheering the loudest over the rest of the parents and Clementine just beamed as she and the rest of her team went up to collect their trophies.

“That’s my girl!” Daniel shouted over the applause, “Show ‘em how it’s done, Clemmie!”

The teams shook hands and then the lights in the gymnasium rose again and Clementine bounded right down the steps of the stage with the trophy in hand. She was beaming and jumped right into Daniel’s waiting arms and he lifted her right up off the ground.

“Oh my gosh, you did great, angel!” he praised, “We’re so proud of you!”

“So proud of you! You sounded so grown up on that stage!” Florence gushed, petting Clementine’s neat blonde hair that was tied in two identical braids over her shoulders.

Clementine only grinned wider, pressing her cheek right up to Daniel’s from her place in his arms, her arms wrapped around his shoulders snugly, “Just gotta throw their facts back at them.”

“And you certainly did.” Daniel smiled, pressing a kiss to her head before setting her back on her feet. “Go thank your teacher, okay?”

“Kay!” Clementine skipped off to her teammates and coach.

Florence and Daniel got the youngest two ready to head out while they waited and another family from the opposing school approached them.

“Pardon me, but I must say that your daughter is an incredible debater.” the mother said kindly, “I didn’t mind our boy losing out to such a quick-fired little girl…she really knew her stuff.”

“Oh, thank you.” Florence smiled politely, cracking a bit of a joke, “We have no clue where she gets it from honestly.”

“I speak from experience; she could be an incredible lawyer one day. You must be so proud.”

“We are. She’s our treasure, that’s for sure.” Daniel beamed with nothing but pride, his smile only growing as Clementine rushed back over to them.

She wrapped her arm around his back and glanced up at him, “Can we go to McDonald’s for dinner, Daddy? To celebrate?”

Daniel tugged gently at one of her braids, “Anything for you, baby.”

Penelope

The kindergarten classroom was packed with parents along the back wall, the children sitting on the colourful carpet in preparation for their show-and-tell day where they had a chance to stand up and talk about one of their little projects. Daniel took the morning off work and everything, dressed up in a nice little button-up for the important occasion and let his five-year-old daughter direct him to her chair in the classroom. Florence sat next to him, giggling softly at how he looked with all 6’1” of him crammed into a tiny kindergarten chair with his knees almost by his ears.

Penelope sat amongst her peers, legs criss-cross-applesauce and her hands folded sweetly in her lap. She kept glancing back at her parents as the other kids went up for their turns in alphabetical order by last name, her blue eyes nearly full of worry as if she was expecting them to not be there when she turned around again. But Daniel sent her a smile every time she looked back at them just to reassure her.

Soon, her name was called by her teacher to come up to the front of the classroom and talk about her painting she had done. Penelope sat frozen in place as everyone looked at her and she nearly tried to fold in on herself.

“Come on up, Penelope, it’s your turn!” the teacher encouraged.

Without a look back, Penelope scrambled up from the carpet and made a beeline right to her father, throwing herself at him and hiding her face in his chest. The other parents’ ‘awe’d out loud as Daniel scooped up his daughter onto his lap and held her close, her little hands clinging onto the front of his button-up shirt. Daniel’s heart could have completely burst right then and there.

He pet a hand over her brown hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before whispering down to her, “Want Daddy to come up there with you?”

Penelope sniffled and nodded, peering up at him with tears in her light blue eyes.

“Okay, bug.” Daniel carefully got up from the tiny chair, set his daughter on her feet again, and took her hand. They walked up to the front of the classroom together and the teacher handed Penelope her artwork. Daniel crouched down beside her and Penelope stayed right close to him as she turned her paper around to show the crowded room.

She blinked, not saying a word.

“What’s your picture about, Penelope?” the teacher encouraged.

Daniel set a soft hand on his daughter’s back and simply his presence was enough to calm her nerves.

“I…I painted mountains.” Penelope said as strongly as she could, glancing down at her artwork in her hands. “And the sky. And…and trees.”

“What colours did you use for your painting, Penelope?” the teacher asked.

Penelope took a small shaky inhale, “Green…blue…and grey. And white. And…and yellow.”

“Very good! It’s a beautiful painting!” the teacher started the applause and the class and the group of parents joined in.

Penelope smiled bashfully, her chubby cheeks dusted in a shy pink blush, and Daniel pressed a kiss right there.

“That’s my girl.” Daniel praised sweetly from beside her. He stood up and led her back to their seat and Penelope bounded over proudly to her mother, shoving her painting into Florence’s hands.

“Wow, Penny, this is so good.” Florence beamed, reaching to caress her daughter’s pink cheek as she admired the messy painting. “So proud of you, my brave little girl.”

Daniel sat back down and pulled Penelope onto his lap, draping his arms around her to cuddle her close to his chest and he peppered kisses to the top of her head, “Our perfect little artist.”

Her very first art show, going without fault thanks to the presence of her father. And he went to every single one thereafter.

Lucy

“Excuse me…Pardon me…Sorry.” Daniel shuffled down the auditorium row, a bouquet of flowers in one arm and Penelope’s hand in his other. He was determined to get to the seats front and centre, rushing to snag the last few available before the auditorium filled up, squeezing past a few families that had already claimed their seats.

Penelope and Clementine followed behind him, the eldest with her nose in the programme to find her youngest sister’s name among the lists. Daniel sat the girls down before taking a seat himself, making sure to claim the fourth with the bouquet of flowers to save a spot for Florence who was helping Lucy get ready backstage.

“Found her!” Clementine grinned, thrusting over the small booklet to show her father and her sister the thin printed line, ‘Lucy Seavey’ under the list of seven-year-old tap dancers and again under the ballerinas.

Daniel grinned at the formality of it just as the lights started to dim.

“Mommy’s gonna miss it.” Penelope whispered.

“She’ll be out in time to see Lucy.” Daniel assured her softly as the toddler groups started their dances up on the stage.

Sure enough, after a few songs, Florence was shuffling down the row in the darkened auditorium to her seat beside Daniel and he moved the flowers for her.

“She’s up next.” Florence whispered excitedly. “She looks so cute in her costume.”

Finally, the current song ended and the younger dancers rushed off the stage in exchange for the seven-year-old group. As the lights rose again, Lucy could be seen front and centre in her purple leotard and purple sequin skirt that matched her friends’, her hands on her hips and toe pointed in perfect position as the song started.

Daniel’s smile seemed to rise with the music volume and soon the group of seven-year-olds were click-clacking across the wooden stage, Lucy’s wide performing grin and sparkle sprayed tied blonde hair standing out amongst the almost clumsier girls with her. Her big move that she had been practicing was her splits and – as expected – nailed them with excellent precision and Daniel couldn’t help but let out a cheer and a little clap, making Florence giggle and lean into him adoringly.

“Daddy, shh.” Penelope scolded softly from his other side.

The dance concluded and the girls on stage hit their final poses with wide grins and the crowd applauded, Daniel standing right up in a single standing ovation as the lights dropped again. Florence pulled him back down into his seat as the girls rushed backstage again.

“Gotta go for costume change.” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him.

Daniel grabbed her wrist before she could slink off, “Tell her she was so good. And I love her. And she was incredible.”

“You’re going to see her in twenty minutes.” Florence giggled, kissing his cheek before shuffling back down the aisle.

Daniel watched the other dance groups impatiently, waiting for Florence to return which would mean Lucy’s second performance would be starting. She returned within ten minutes and fell back into her seat with a sigh. Daniel slipped his fingers into his wife’s and pulled their intertwined hands up to kiss her soft skin just as the lights dimmed again and it was time for the second performance.

Honestly, as much as Lucy rocked her fast paced routines, Daniel loved her dancing ballet the most. She always looked so graceful and pretty and happy and Daniel’s heart could just soar with pride over his youngest.

By the time the soft song came to a conclusion and Lucy fell into her final pose ever so gently, Daniel nearly felt tears in his eyes as he applauded the loudest out of the entire audience and he was sure he caught a small smile tugging at the corner of Lucy’s serious expression as the lights dimmed again.

The girls were allowed to go find their families after their last performance and Lucy shuffled her way down the row at intermission, still in her blue ballet leotard and white tutu with her bag slung over her shoulder and a huge grin plastered on her face.

“There’s our girl.” Florence smiled.

“Oh, Princess, you were incredible.” Daniel gushed, bending right down to engulf her in a hug before passing over her congratulatory flowers.

“Thank you!” Lucy beamed, taking a sniff of her fresh cut flowers as she sat herself down on his lap, hugging the bouquet to her chest.

“The best out of the whole troupe.” Daniel boasted softly for only their little group to hear.

Lucy giggled bashfully, “I know…a few of the other girls kept messing up their steps.”

“Not our tiny dancer.” Daniel pressed a kiss to her head, getting a bit of her layers of sparkly hairspray on his lips in the process.

“You cheered so loud, Daddy.” Lucy said, taking her packed intermission snack of cheese and crackers from Florence.

“Too loud.” Penelope added.

“Get used to it.” Clementine finished sassily, reaching over Penelope to steal a cracker from her youngest sister. 

[mypunkpansexualtwin]

WIP Wednesday

I am, again, untagged but undeterred! Who wants more Wingman? No? Too bad, that’s what you’re getting!

I... haven’t slept yet. Consider yourself tagged if you want to do this and please please tag me in your WIPs, I really love seeing what my friends, mutuals, and followers are all working on. Part of this is under a cut, mostly for the sanity of Future Me.

About halfway down the block, they realized at about the same time that they had nothing to talk about.

“So…”

“So...”

So. Akira didn’t remember how to have a normal damn conversation. He wasn’t going to blame that on the fact that the only people who’d spoken to him on a regular basis in the past five months were all eccentric to say the least, but it definitely hadn’t helped. One of the top five current sanest people in his life was the drag queen proprietor of a bar in the red light district, for crying out loud. Not to mention he’d always been more of a listener to begin with because it was less stressful. So long as the person talking wasn’t a harried reporter who could only ever be found at the aforementioned drag bar. Or his homeroom teacher being blackmailed into dubious side work by a late student’s family. Or an ex member of the goddamn yakuza. Being “robbed of one’s place to belong” apparently also did a number on one’s sanity.

Akira was pulled from his thoughts by Ono awkwardly clearing his throat.

“I, uh, heard that one of the Japanese schools staying here is Shujin. That you?” Jason hazarded. 

“Yup.”

“Phantom Thieves Shujin?”

“That’s the only one I’m aware of.” Akira responded blandly. Not the best topic for small talk considering the apparent state of his brain-to-mouth filter, but better than walking along and twiddling their thumbs until one of them decided to leave. Probably.

Jason cracked a smile and jokingly asked, “Do you know them?” Even half-expecting it, the question still caught him a little off guard. Although not as much as it would have a few months prior, considering he’d gotten it just as jokingly from several of Leblanc’s regulars since May. Meaning he’d had time to practice his answer.

“Oh yeah,” Akira responded, pouring every ounce of sarcasm he had into a completely truthful statement, “I found them on accident and they made me their leader.” Then he rolled his eyes for good measure. Who needed to be a good liar when you could just tell the truth in a way nobody would believe?

“Pff, why would they do that?” Jason snorted, indulging the “joke.” Akira shrugged in response.

“No idea,” he answered, again, completely honestly. “My unparalleled charisma? My superior adaptability?” He paused for his date to stop laughing before he continued, “My cool glasses?” That earned him a scoff.

“Clark Kent you ain’t, buddy.” Ono retorted dryly, but the effect was ruined by the smile trying to break out across his face. Topic successfully deflected.

“Definitely no Superman, either.” Akira stretched and laughed softly.“Too gangly.” He was finally starting to actually relax a little when an arm snaked around his waist and tugged him close, effectively shooting his progress in the face.

“I dunno if I’d say gangly. Lean, maybe?” Ono’s voice was close to his ear again and his hand was ridiculously warm where it rested on his hip. “Whatever you wanna call it, it definitely suits you.” 

“Uh. Th-thanks.” A few moments passed, allowing Akira to attempt to scrape together something resembling a brain cell.

“Y’know, if you’re here to make memories, maybe we should get on that.”

Attempt failed, try again later. Something about the guy’s voice, especially with the way it ghosted across an apparently very sensitive spot just behind his ear, seemed to have a vendetta against Akira trying to think. Purely on impulse, with no input from his higher functions that had all abandoned him at that point, Akira turned his head and hummed his assent against the corner of Ono’s jaw. He felt a shiver run through the taller boy and a decidedly Arsene-shaped sense of smug satisfaction in the back of his mind. Akira wasn’t sure if he should offer his inner self thanks or wonder where the hell this kind of helpful nudge was earlier that afternoon with Ryuji. Or at literally any point with Ryuji. Maybe it was for the better, he really didn’t have the nerve to follow up on a move like that. And if he couldn’t with the guy who’d arranged the damn date, there was no way he’d have been able to after probably ambushing his unsuspecting best friend. There was no point in dwelling on that, though. Instead, he met the hooded gaze Jason levelled at him with a smirk meant to cover his rising nerves. 

Anyone who knew Joker, Infamous Leader of the Phantom Thieves would have recognized that particular smirk as the prelude to him being a little shit, but Ono did not. He had no idea what to expect when Akira replied lowly, “I think you might be onto something there.” The blond leaned in a little, eyes fluttering shut as Akira reached up to settle one hand on the back of Jason’s neck--

--and shattered the moment with a quiet click from his phone’s camera. Ono blinked a few times, looking up to where Akira was holding his phone up for the selfie he’d just snapped, and back to Akira’s face. Double take. Triple take. And then he fixed him with the most unimpressed face Akira had ever seen in his life, which had to be some kind of world record.

“Uhhh, say ‘cheese?’” He cracked a smile and tried hard not to laugh as that look somehow turned even more unimpressed.

“Ha freaking ha.” Ono pouted up at the camera. “Seriously. I’m gonna crack a rib laughin’ here. You’re hilarious.”

“Are you saying you don’t want a picture of yourself when you look this good?” Akira replied innocently and lowered his arm a little. Maybe it was unfair to push the buttons of a guy so obviously and aggressively walking the fine line between confident and vain, but the way his pout deepened before twisting into a smile was too cute.

“Fine, twist my arm why don’t you?” Jason rolled his eyes good-naturedly and settled against Akira before looking up into the camera. Halfway through the burst of pictures Akira took, Jason exacted his revenge and pressed a kiss to that sensitive spot he’d ghosted his breath over a moment ago. Thankfully the camera didn’t pick up the deeply embarrassing yelp that particular move elicited from Akira, but there was no hiding the way the phone suddenly jerked in his hand halfway through the dozen or so pictures, or the way his face had gone completely scarlet in all of them from that point onward. It was his turn to pout as he swiped through his camera roll and deleted the blurriest ones. “Ooh, definitely send me that one. And those two.” Ono instructed with his chin hooked over Akira’s shoulder. Naturally the guy wanted the pictures with the worst of Akira’s tomato face, but at least the rest he requested were nice. Maybe Akira wouldn’t be spending the rest of the night too mortified.

The incoming text notification that dropped from the top of his screen said otherwise. Goddammit.

“Oh man, the timing on that’s almost spooky. Hell of a coincidence.” Jason laughed as the preview of Futaba’s ‘who the heck is that guy???’ disappeared into the notifications bar. Akira groaned.

“Not a coincidence.”

[haleybellax]

Senior Counselor

I’m a sleep away camp counselor, we’re on a camp out, in the middle of the woods and the girls are starting to brush their teeth. There’s a song leader who came to sing them campfire songs, and I’m walking him back to his clay covered car in an attempt to flirt with him. I’m bitching about how late the kids are gonna try and stay up, I have no idea what’s in store. I hear them scream and I laugh, it must be another wasp.

Until I stumble through my walk back, butterflies in my stomach of the way he smiled at me, until I see our trip leader screaming into the phone, until I see my camper’s sobbing around the fire we just sang to, until a camper turned getting her toothbrush from her bunk into a suicide attempt.

I’m a high school senior. I don’t yet know where I’m going to college or what I’ll do with myself once I get there. I’m worried about an environmental science quiz, and the photos I have to take for the school paper. People are gossiping all through lunch, I put headphones in and ignore the chatter.

My science teacher looks at me like I’m repulsive. Like the very idea of me standing there makes her want to vomit, I’m confused, I haven’t cheated in this class, I turn my work in on time, I shouldn’t be memorable. I’m barely even sitting before they call me out of class, she walks me to the door and puts her hands on my shoulders before I leave; she watches me walk down the hallway. Until I reach the library I have no idea what's happening, until I see the tissues and the unfamiliar district guidance counselors, until I see my favorite teacher hysterical at a desk meant for student, until my friend became their statistic.

See but now, I’m a camp counselor. I’m their parent, teacher, friend, confidant, I’m all they have. My feelings are second priority to the 40 something girls sitting around a fire trying to get the screaming out of their heads. I don’t have the strength to tell them that this moment will be there forever.

They don’t teach you this in training, how could they? This is the one percent to their 99 success rate, this is the thing they promise parents won’t ever happen to their child. We’ll love and nurture them here. I wasn’t aware that pulling 11 year olds off of ledges they try to jump from was part of that.

And I remember sitting there as the guidance counselor pronounced her name wrong, and watching people start to cry and wanting to cry but not remembering how to and that’s the strangest feeling imaginable. I was in such shock I didn’t know how to cry.

Tears wouldn’t come for weeks until the funeral and then the movie I watched to forget the funeral and every movie I’ve watched since the funeral. Emotions have a funny way of working like that.

See but when I did my interview for this job I said that it had been a hard year for me. The woman on the other side of the line tried to care but how could she get it? She promised me camp had a lot of little problems, of lost water bottles and middle school disagreements. I was naive to forget the first time I had a friend hurt themselves was in the 6th grade. Since then, I’ve become almost numb to scarred wrists, hips, and stomachs.

But now that very same woman is telling me that these kids won’t be scarred from this. That eventually they’ll barely remember it. Part of me wishes that she, as a mother, could empathize with the idea of a child, the very same age as her own, feeling this pain, or witnessing it. But part of me hopes she never does, and as relieving as the sensitivity and respect would be, that part of me never wins out. No one should ever feel that pain.

But now I’m at this fire and I’m one by one dragging girls back up to the platforms their friend just tried to jump from, as someone else is holding her while she dry heaves, starting to feel the true meaning of the action she just attempted. I’m huddling with six girls I don’t even know the names of, but one of them looks at me with cracked glass for eyes and quietly asks me to sing. There are 8 other counselors trying to bring back the innocence in 8 other platforms as I close my eyes and start to hum. And maybe half way through the verse I’m not singing for them any more. But by the chorus the whole campsite is silent.

You couldn’t ask me what I sang, or how long I went from simple melody to simple melody, my pitch was off and overall shaky, as shaken as I was but in that moment, it gave them something to focus on. Hell, it gave me something to focus on.

And I remember she always used to play music so loud I could hear through her headphones. And when my government teacher played music she sang it just quiet enough that only me, in the seat directly in front of her, could hear. He stopped playing music. Told us in 20 years of teaching it had never been his desk left empty. I left the classroom, silence was deafening.

See I couldn’t let those girls fall asleep in silence that night. They deserved a comfortable blend of majors and minors, and that, that I could give them. The other counselors applauded me for thinking so quickly on my feet for a distraction. The girls thanked me for singing for hours. But to me it felt like seconds, felt like nothing, didn’t feel till the next morning when my throat was raw from belting. I didn’t feel the tears on my face that night, or the next night, or until someone else wiped them away.

And my therapist tells me I’m “doing so much better” and that “grief is a process.” I’ve been dying my hair for five years ruby red. Every time it processes and looks perfect, it eventually fades and grows and the process starts all over again. I ask myself if that is what grief is. I hope the answer is no. I can’t take the endless cycles of anger and acceptance. I can’t sing to make the pain go away anymore. The noise won’t cover her permanent silence.  

Maybe I should stop writing about her, it can’t be healthy.

See I wonder if my campers will one day be in a therapist's office sitting, pamphlet flipping, asking themselves why they’re still thinking about the moment when they watched her on a ledge. Feeling the warmth of their 11 year old self round a fire crackling into the silence of the camp site. I wonder if they will wonder about me, about the rest of their staff that they once saw as strong adults, understanding we were all just kids ourselves. Most of us are not old enough to get a drink, rent a car, not rely on our parents. I wonder how much this will truly affect them. I hope it doesn’t, that’s naive but pure.  

[themonotonysyndrome]

The Holy Quintet in Twisted Wonderland!

While I was having a writer’s block for ‘A Modern Fairytale’, I complained to my friend and we chatted on Discord. I told her about TW and she asked me if TW ever gonna have an anime adaptation since Magia Record:PMMM had an anime after the game is released. We love the Madoka Magica series and since they’re some similarities between the two, I thought why not have the main girls (I haven’t watch Magia Record yet though I’m aware of the existence of Doppels) react to the world of TW? 

For those who don’t know about Puella Magi Madoka Magica, here’s a brief summary: It’s basically an anime about cute magical girls fighting evils where absolutely nothing bad ever happened. Like, ever. 

Anyway, hopefully by the time I’m done with this, I can get my flow back for my previous writings...  

*Since the First-Years are 16, I aged up the Holy Quintet just to match. 

Homura could’ve unleashed a thousand bombs and grenades onto the wretched white rat the moment she realise that they were no longer in Mitakihara City or even on Earth! 

Her day has been going on so well, too.

Morning arrives with the same monotonous routine. It’s a new day and a new timeline which means a whole new planning she needed to do before the fated day. But that can wait after school.

The teachers and students followed their scripts perfectly. Homura deftly ignore the hallway where the History teacher would request her help carrying the journals for the woman’s next class, spin around before the clumsy girl from the class next door would spill her water bottle onto her and even freezing time to whisper into Hitomi Shizuki’s ear who is lingering outside their shared class; how she had been neglecting her dear friend Sayaka lately in favour of Kyousuke Kamijou, how unfair her treatment of Sayaka has been lately. 

By the time recess roll by, Madoka is alone just like Homura planned. Sayaka is pulled away by Hitomi. It wasn’t hard to wait quietly in her seat before the other girl spotted her and asked if they could have lunch together. 

Homura accepts without hesitation. 

She let the hours went by at their own pace until the moon is high in the sky. There’s a Witch that has been causing quite a ruckus near the shopping district. One that Homura would have no problem killing on her own, but Kyouko found it first and not even a day later, Mami caught wind of it as well. 

As the clock is about to strike midnight, the Holy Quintet are standing in front of the Witch’s Labyrinth; the back door of a luxurious shoe shop. Homura ponder on what was the connection of the shop and the Witch, before Kyouko suddenly declare to kill the Witch herself. 

“Hey, I was the one who found it first! This kill is my right!” The redhead Magical Girl announced with a Pocky stick pointing sternly at them to back off.

“Shouldn’t we work together to stop the Witch? Tomoe-san mentioned that it’s strong...” Madoka softly countered. Kyouko’s loud voice didn’t scare her but since the prize is a Grief Seed, everyone wanted it. Madoka wouldn’t dream of rebuking her friends of it. Not when they dearly need it for their magic. 

“I don’t want to add more to the fire, but if we work together, who’s going to claim the grief Seed?” Sayaka interjects, her hand up in the air as if they were in class. They haven’t transform for battle yet; it’d be a waste of magic to transform only to have half of them returning home later or search out for another Witch all night long if Kyouko won’t budge from this one. 

Madoka, Sayaka and Kyouko all turn to Mami when she remains silent for too long. 

“It can’t be help then.” Mami shrugs. “If Kyouko is adamant to kill this Witch, then we should leave it to her. She was the one to discover it after all.” 

When Kyouko whoop and cheer, Sayaka went ahead to scold her. But their relationship had progress to a stage where they could banter easily with no hard feelings involve, so Madoka is at ease. 

Homura, however, is not as it slightly deter from the script but she wisely keeps it to herself. 

Homura’s day went wrong when Madoka sweetly offer, “I still have some Grief Seeds on me, so I’m more than happy to help Sakura-san out!” 

“Madoka - ” Homura automatically begin, she would rather have Madoka reserve her magic but luckily Kyouko beats her to it. 

“Aww, it’s fine Kaname-san. I’m a big girl, ya know? I can’t handle one Witch.” Kyouko assured her with a bright smile that’s enough to dissipate Madoka’s worries. “Beside, you guys have been working hard these past few nights hunting Witches. You guys deserve a break for once.” 

“I can’t argue with that...” Mami ruefully reply. The girls all decide to leave this Witch to Kyouko’s capable hands and was about to make their way home (with Mami escorting them back even if she didn’t have to) when the door to the Witch’s Labyrinth suddenly flings open. Light, colours, myriad of voices and music flood out from the shop. 

“D-Did the Witch realised we’re here already!?” Sayaka said through gritted teeth. The corrupted Magic that’s spilling from the door is overwhelming, trying to pull the girls inside. 

“That can’t be!” Kyouko retort with her spear already in hand and stab to the ground to anchor her. Her other hand is gripping Sayaka’s to hold her steady in place. “A Witch only have absolute reign in its Labyrinth. Not in the real world!”

The Magic then began to slowly drag their feet towards the door. Madoka, who is the closest to Homura, touch her Soul Gem. Homura didn’t want her to fight, she’d rather deal with the Witch herself. 

“Madoka, wait!” Homura shouted and lunge to grab her. Her Shield is already on her arm despite that she’s still in her school uniform. She just needed to freeze time and then  - 

“Now this is interesting. This doesn’t feel like a Witch’s magic at all.” Perch on top of the many lamp post and unbothered by the overwhelming magic is Kyuubey. The Incubator blink its pink, beady eyes before jumping down and landed beside Homura. 

“You - You’re not needed here!” Homura hissed viciously.

“Look carefully through the door there, Akemi Homura. Doesn’t that look like a mirror?” Kyuubey instruct in a pleasant tone that irked the girl. 

“What are you - ”

“Akemi-san, look! There’s a mirror!” Mami’s urgent voice snapped Homura to attention. 

Indeed. There’s a black mirror inside the shop, floating in air. 

“Is that how the Witch noticed us!?” Kyouko is already brandishing her spear to throw it straight through the mirror.

Before any of the Magical Girls could do anything, the mirror forcefully yank them towards it and swallow them whole. Silence descend on the streets. 

Homura fought to stay awake but the magic lull her to close her eyes and sleep. 

-

“Did.. did a mirror just appear from the ceiling and spat out... girls?” An unfamiliar, incredulous voice was what stirred Homura up. Something feels off.  

When Homura open her eyes and realise that she and her friends are surrounded by people in strange robes staring at them as if they were aliens, a man wearing a mask and a mirror with a green face floating in it, she immediately went for the offence. 

She withdraws a gun from her Shield and aim straight at the masked man standing beside the mirror, her eyes never waver away from the crowd in robes in front of her. With a quick glance underneath her, Madoka and the rest are still unconscious before focusing on the enigma of this world and something in her whisper that she should hold the masked man accountable. 

“Where are we?” Homura demanded in the calmest voice she could muster, her finger is light as a feather against the trigger. The scripts has gone completely off the rail. “Who are you people?”

“Well now, I think that would be my question!” The masked man rebuked. Homura’s ears picked up the dumbstruck and lividness in his tone. “Really... a mirror suddenly summoned in the middle of the dorm sorting ceremony and you girls interrupted it!” 

A bullet wheeze past by the masked man’s head, only grazing a lock of his hair. Just like that, the crowd is silent. Finally realise the strange and uneasy atmosphere that curtains them, courtesy of one Magical Girl.

“I won’t ask again.” She threatens. Her eyes narrowed when a few of the people in front of her shifted. A short boy with red hair and a bespectacled boy with a beauty mark on his lower lip. She studied them warily and they did the same towards her. The fingers twitch to a small... pen? The red and grey gems will become her targets if they so much as move. 

“Geez... the situation suddenly turn dangerous.” A voice said through a floating tablet. He sounds meek and scared. 

Murmurs follow soon after. She's losing control on the situation. 

“Well?” Homura pressed and this time, she aims the gun right between the masked man’s eyes. Adults in strange coloured clothings that stood behind the mirror with the green face slowly tried to separate Homura from the crowd. Their expressions severe and cautious. 

They don’t feel like familiars. This strange room doesn’t feel like a product of a Witch’s magic. What’s worse, Kyuubey is nowhere in sight. 

“Young Miss, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here but you’re in the prestigious Night Raven College. Did you and your friends forcefully unlock your coffins?” The masked man asked, with his hands on his hips like a scolding parent yet tentative when addressing Homura after her warning shot. 

“Night Raven... College? Coffins?” Homura repeated, growing confused by the minute. She’s never heard such institution before! 

Her gun lowered slightly when she caught pieces of conversations floating from the crowd. 

“... a mistake? Night Raven College is an all-boys school after all.” 

“We woken up every first year students before coming here. There’s no way we could missed them!”

“So they somehow broke out from the coffins on their own earlier?” 

“...that in her hand? It looks some kind of weapon but I’ve never seen anything like it...” That came from the floating tablet. 

“It happened so fast that headmaster couldn’t even react! Whatever that thing is, it’s dangerous.” The short redhead boy added, his fingers nearly brushing his red gem now. 

“Where is Mitakihara City?” Homura asked instead.

The masked man titled his head at her question. “Mita... what? There’s no such city with a name like that. Did the mirror where you came from malfuction? And what’s with your clothing, Young Lady? Is that supposed to be a school uniform?” 

This is bad. Nothing makes sense. “Students of this college would already be wearing their ceremonial robes the moment they step out of their coffins.” The masked man continued, oblivious to Homura’s concern. The other Magical Girls remain sleeping. It’s up to her to get them out safely or try to figure out what’s going on. 

This couldn’t be the incubator’s game. 

Homura pulls her gun back and relax her shoulders just a little. Enough to show that she’s calm and not going to attack any time soon. “A college you say? My friends and I were forcefully pulled in through a mirror and then I woke up here. Tell me, are we even on Earth?” 

Now the masked man is perplexed. “Earth? I’ve never heard such a word before! Why, this is Twisted Wonderland!”

Homura bit her lower lip to prevent herself from calling the masked man out as a liar. She doesn’t have any prove or any information that the man is joking after all. 

Homura comfort herself by tugging on her magic and grip her gun. Good. She still has her full arsenals and useful items as well as her magic is in its peak form. 

Her mind is racing now. If one wants information, one must offer their piece first, yes? 

“I believe there’s been a... mishap. My friends and I aren’t from here. We came from a place call Mitakihara City. Twisted Wonderland doesn’t exist for us.” Homura begins. That should suffice for now. 

The floating tablet floated near Homura although there is still some distance between them. “A-Are you serious!? A bunch of girls literally isekai’ed into Night Raven College!? I can’t believe this is actually happening! My manga is a reality!” 

Homura is taken aback at the sudden enthusiastic voice. Truly not expecting a 180 from his previous meek tone. 

“Eh? Another world? Did you and your friends came from another world!?” A white haired boy with ruby eyes intervenes. Despite how odd the situation is now that he said it out loud, he’s excited about the notion. 

“It would seem so...” Homura murmus. If this is meant to be a college then the crowd must be students and adults here are their teachers. There’s magic lingering in the air. It’s unfamiliar to Homura but it’s magic nonetheless. 

“The sorting ceremony must continue on.” The mirror with the face boomed. Its voice deep and unsettling. The masked man react accordingly to it. 

“Yes, yes, we musn’t dawdle! Now then Young Miss, if you’d be so kind to help bring your unconscious friends here beside me so that the others students could - ”

“Step forth you who have mastered time and space.” The mirror with the face ordered. 

Another silence descend the room before the white haired boy with red eyes shattered it. 

“So they ARE students! This is so exciting, isn’t it Jamil? We never had students from another world before!” The boy exclaim with a beaming smile. Somehow, his smile reminded Homura of Madoka’s when she’s in a really good mood. 

“We still don’t know what’s really going on, Kalim.” A boy with complex, braided hair chastise him. Though it doesn’t deter his friend’s excitement at all. “After all, she was willing to attack the headmaster.” 

“I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding! Won’t you be confused and scared too if you’re suddenly teleported to a strange land, Jamil?” The white haired boy countered before shooing Homura to the mirror behind her. “Go see what the Mirror of Darkness has to say! Maybe it could help you.” 

The masked man sigh. “I guess it can’t be help. Young Miss, please address the mirror properly.” 

Homura tucked the gun back into her Shield and slowly turn around. The mirror with the face doesn’t strike fear in her like Kyuubey or Walpurgisnacht do, so she slowly padded towards it. 

And thus begin the Holy Quintet role as students in the world of Twisted Wonderland right after each one of the girls has been sorted. 

-

The next continuation will be dorm sorting! It was a little tough trying to sort 5 of them when there are 7 dorms but I have a idea how to get around this. Hope I did Homura justice and you guys enjoyed this piece. I adore crossovers! 

A big shoutout to @twsted-caramel​ (I hope it’s ok to tag you here) for giving me the big inspiration. Please check out their crossover of KNY and TW pieces! It’s amazing!)              

[spirit-shroud]

what are some roles that have been largely changed for cityrune? since you said queen was an influencer now :]

hi ty for asking me im vibrating. havent gotten to talk about this au now for three years and now that chapter 2 is like real and this time i can like........draw occasionally and i have more understanding of nuance...... [grips table] [screams]

this isnt quite what you asked but heres what's everyone from chapter 1 has been Up To with a little bit of context (and under a read more bc it got LENGTHY):

kris - professional stay at home teen (they live w/ asgore n help run the flower shop sometimes. this decision was entirely bc i dont like toriel). was wrongly diagnosed w Sudden Soul Rejection when they were incredibly young and given an experimental transplanted soul as a replacement. it works for them fine, give or take having to see gaster once a month for checkups. but sometimes the soul makes them skittish n decides they're going to sit in front of the pc and play 30 consecutive hours of a certain simulation game and not even let them drown people in the pool. if it were entirely up to them, they'd be like. passing out on the sofa to documentaries about bigfoot. or practicing cool knife tricks to impress their friends at their next tabletop meetup

- EDITED IN: the soul is kind of their friend. they are wearing a hypothetical get along shirt. most of the time, they agree on actions and things to do. tends to refer to themself + their soul as we/us which originally was just something they did in their head but they kept slipping in speech/text n just became a Thing of how they talk. switches to 'I/Me' whenever smth is wrong.

- also edited in: they believe the soul they have is their original soul bc nobody has told them otherwise. whenever theyre like 'oh yeah we think about our soul n view it as a separate entity to us like. all the time. it likes to hurt if we make too many choices it doesn't seem to like and kind of forces us to be a toned down version of what we want to be but thats just how souls are haha' and everyone is like.... 'Hey Kris That's Really Not How It Is.' theyre like. 'huh. gonna ignore that for now' - this was going to be a plot point

toriel - head of H0MEWOR1D (H01)'s department of education; kind of lost her roots as a simple math teacher as she was pushed into a lot of power she didn't even really seek out. divorced asgore over some miscommunications in their relationship; also loosely as a result of grief from asriel's death

asgore - the same. runs a lil flower/gift shop. people come in more to talk with him than to buy flowers most of the time, though

asriel Flowey - he's back in flower form, thanks to the government an accident. causes a lot of technology glitches wherever he goes, and wants revenge. isn't sure how to go about it. asriel "died" around 8 years before the story takes place and kris still misses him and refuses to even THINK about even the IDEA of calling someone their sibling after what happened, just in case it somehow happens a second time

susie - more of the same really. she spends most of her time either at grillby's (she's sort of become his assistant n helps with opening/closing. it just happened) or getting into low-stakes trouble w/ kris

noelle - she's in the city's equivalent of college and shes so tired. shes So Abysmally Tired n got kinda pushed 2 follow in her mom's footsteps. she's rarely around anymore except through text or on monsters & mages (dnd) night. (however.........she will come back w/ a long break n hang out w everyone again)

berdly - tbh i didnt even consider berdly when i made the au initially. idk what he's doing. probably in a similar situation to noelle??? canonically got kicked out of the M&M group due to clashes w/ other players but lurks in their group chat to posts memes sometimes

didnt rly think of any other of kris' classmates (+ their families) after ch1 and probably will continue to not, until chs 3-5 come out and i gotta whip up roles and histories for like. a lotta guys all of a sudden. i also forgot about noelle's parents

sans - runs a convenience store that everyone kind of thinks is a front, but also it has really cheap snacks and the local teens make a point of stopping there after school. so essentially, more of the same papyrus - similar to ut. is a very polite and sweet boy but you'll know when he's coming

grillby - he's back. he runs a bar like back in ut but the cozy vibes and weird-for-a-bar hours keep attracting kids who need parents, so half of his menu is comprised of overly sweet mocktails. usually only frequented by monsters

QC - same as usual. has a "rivalry" with grillbz but, theyre besties and have a book club

mettaton - he's real and he's back. he's similar to how he is back in ut w/ his EX body. likes to hang out at grillby's and talk to unsuspecting fans. has a show for everything

napstablook - similar to how they are in ut. helps mtt with making music sometimes. doesn't leave the house too often, but spends a lot of time posting on undernet

undyne - unfortunately. more of the same. she is a cop in the monster district. i am also upset by this but couldn't think of anything better for her

alphys - a doctor studying under dr. gaster in the hopes she'll one day take over his research. she spends most of her time as a nurse with a bigger title, though, and blocks out the weirdness of her job with anime.

gaster - weird guy. H01's top soul researcher and resident House wannabe. trying to manufacture the ultimate soul that can be controlled with simple internal switches, but so far he's only had 1 (very limited) success with a certain human. monsters just melt, and darkners just sorta......get weird... he's onto Something, though.

ralsei - lonely boy with some very strange hobbies. popular on UnderNet for poetry, baking videos, and general cryptid vibe. is the DM for the monsters & mages group (also seems to think everything is actually very fine in H01 when it is very much not)

lancer - about the same. professional Round Boy. lives w/ rouxls full time. follows susie around like a lost puppy and calls himself her "underling."

rouxls - runs a hotel/casino kind of deal where the objective Bad Guys hang out, and usually ends up doing any of the spade king's paperwork.

spade king - mafia godfather. kind of a dick. don't play cards with him

seam - works with the spade king as his right hand cat more or less because they have for a lot of years and are in that 'sunk cost fallacy' zone. thinks of retiring to a quiet life in the monster section of town like, daily

jevil - used to work with the spade king, but got imprisoned for Crimes. got weird after The Accident (separate from asriel's accident)

temmies (all) - dont really get mentioned except offhandedly but they run the monster space station. so far, are the only monsters who have ever been to space.

as far as chapter 2 goes:

yeah i dont have much so far for characters. in the original version of the au i accidentally made darkners as a whole just kinda..... not great? like all sorts of weird organized crime ties n sort of going out of their way to be A Problem to the city (not even in like. a revolution way. in a working against them but with the same goals kinda way). with the whole context it worked At The Time, bc i just had the spade king to look to as a villain, and also in this au the darkners are just trying to survive a world that ultimately was not built for them (that humans think they own, and monsters sort of... seeing this and wondering what it'll mean for them whichever one wins), but w/ new info abt how the dark world works n more guys to work with i want to kind of. edit the vibe a bit. like yea darkners will ultimately do whatever it takes to take over H01, but maybe in a better way than like. idk. all this. it doesnt have to be peaceful or anything it just has to be more adaptable as we meet more kinds of darkners

however yeah i thought up 'queen as some sort of childless mommy blogger/influencer' and that completely revived all memory i had of this au. she should be on mtt's talkshow. also she sells collectible wine glasses w/ her likeness

spamton is another one of gaster's failed soul experiments, but he hasn't melted yet, and seems............fine? sort of. so he hasn't gotten decommissioned yet. he does want to give you malware tho. hot monster singles in your area n all that

im blanking on the rest of the guys but i hope any of this was comprehensible

[moonraccoon-exe]

Hi, Connie. I know it's been a while since you did any headcanons and idk if you still do them, but I'm curious of your opinion. I realize the wall is one giant quarantine bubble, but the people are still free to do as the please inside it. How do you think each of the chocobros would handle an Insomnia-wide quarantine like what's going on in most of the world right now? What if one of them got sick (assuming a FFXV equivalent of COVID-19?) How would Regis, as King, take care of his people?

PS: Aparently the Keep Reading line is having some troubles. May appear right under the question (how did it get THERE?) or nowhere at all lol pls forgive tumblr he trying. 

HEEEEEEEEEELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It’s definitely been a while since I did any headcanons, but that’s because school has kept me busy like crazy, and when I have spare time, I put it into my two big fanfics going on (I don’t want people to wait too much!) but I’ll definitely keep doing these, every single one of them, until I finish, even if it takes me years and years <3

The ask prompts are one of my favorite things in the world so of course I’ll keep them going!

HOH

YOUR PROMPT IS SUPER INTERESTING!!!!! AYYYYY, let’s see what this raccoonie brain has there!! 

FFXV Insomnia in a quarantine

First things first, the government

Regis, as King:

Regis is going all the way into making sure EVERYONE can stay home.

Regis is going to ask the other countries to lend Lucis money. As in. M I L L I O N S.

“Your Majesty, you ARE aware we’re nowhere half to repaying that debt in a near future?”

“THIS IS A LITERAL PLAGUE WITH NO CURE YET THAT’S KILLING DOZENS SOME OF WHICH THEIR FAMILIES CAN’T SAY GOODBYE TO AND YOU W O R RY  A B O UT   T HE  E  C O NO M Y   ¿¿¿? ?!??”

Regis has brain and, most importantly, humanity. He’s definitely going to put the country in debt for the next 15 kings is that helps people right now.

Mostly because he’s aware it’s no one’s fault. 

Regis is announcing what he’s going to do to keep people safe publicly:

The next three months of any loans are forgiven. Mortgage, rent, water, electricity, and all the public services will be free for the next three months. If you own any debts, be it a house or a little clock, you don’t have to pay on the next 3 months, and instead that amount will be divided into future months in small amounts so it’s recovered in the medium or long run. No one needs to spend one gil in any of the basics, don’t worry about that, it’s covered, government’s got you, SO PLEASE STAY HOME. 

Regis is aware that some people can’t stay home because what little they earn is what they spend in basic food; Regis is going to spend lots of the money he burrowed in them.

Regis is going to pay as well to teachers and artists for online classes and entertainment, because he’s aware of the mental/emotional distress people can be in after certain time indoors. 

Regis is going to put most the money in the medical and cleaning services.

Regis is going to keep online and phone polls for people to fill in particular cases (I still need to go out because I need to go look after my mother each friday, I still need to go out because I need to go get medicines each certain time at this district) so the Citadel’s intel know best what to do.

Regis is going to make sure to have teams sanitizing public transport and places everyday.

Regis is a no-game man, dammit.

((Regis is the reason Insomnia only needed three months before being free))

Makes sure the media broadcasts not only the death cases, but also and most importantly the healed cases. Not gonna let the media get stupid with this for money or paranoia, no sir

Noctis, as prince

DID YOU THINK HE WAS JUST GOING TO MOP, THIS IS THE PRINCE

(Remember the game tells us he was a damn good prince as in politically? what a bean <3)

Noct was taken more off guard; Regis acted immediately like a (good) madman, Noctis still needed a bit to process it

Noct is who comes up with some ideas that Regis puts into action (the phone/online polls, the online classes, for example)

Noct too manages some of the intel going on during quarentine to see how the city is progressing and how else they can help.

Noctis is in charge of the interviews along the...health minister (?) everyday, while Regis stays at work and intel.

Noctis makes sure to do a livestream each certain days to greet the people, answer questions, or just have a bit of fun, and to remind them to stay home and to keep the spirits up. We know Noct would rather rot in boredome in his sofa because Sleepy Boy, but he knows the effect he has on his people, so he does the livestreams for them; to keep them entertained, informed, and simply to keep them sane.

Noctis came up with the idea of making an app/text service for those that suffer of domestic violence; “staying home” sounds easy to him because he has a huge house and a good family, but he’s aware that not do everyone. 

(Putting a keep reading here)

Noctis

Sleeps it away lmao

Honestly Noct doesn’t have much troubles with the whole “stay home” thing. He likes home. He LOVES staying home. LET HIM STAY EVEN AFTER QUARENTINE IS OVER.

Noct has videogames and his bed. You don’t need to tell him twice to stay home. 

Noct sleeps most of the day. 

Noct decides to not shower everyday.

The only trouble Noct goes through is that his room starts getting super messy everyday and Ignis isn’t going to appear to help him out. 

Noctis spends his time doing homework and mumbling about how “teachers didn’t use to give us this much homework until quarentine, this is just their excuse goddammit fuck this shit”

I feel you Noct

Besides that, videogames, trash food, and sleeping.

It’s 9 pm, he’s in pajamas. That he hasn’t taken off in three days. 

It’s 6 am and Noct is out of bed. He hasn’t slept since 2 am.

What is this guy’s sleep schedule.

Despite the careless and carefree attitude, Noct still worries. He still has to stay the most informed, as the prince, of the international and national situation, and it sometimes gets stressful.

When Noct sees numbers grow and a gloomy future, he gets stressed but won’t say it; that careless attitude is his way of coping. Like pretending it’s not true.

Noct worries about the poor, too, and the low and working class. He too came up with more ideas along with Regis to keep them safe too and not force them to work while the middle and upper classes stay indoors like it’s not the big deal.

Noct thinks a lot about Prompto. He knows he doesn’t need to go out too much, but he also knows how much of a terribly, horribly emotional distress Prom is in when staying at his house for too long.

Noct takes up on video-phoning Prom, everyday. His best boy can’t be sad, stressed, or messed up, and he’s going to keep him sane and cheer him up everyday. 

Noct may or may have not ended up inviting Prompto to spend quarentine at the Citadel with him. He hadn’t finished saying it when Prom was already at the Citadel’s door asking to be sanitized before going in.

If he got sick, everyone around him would be more scared than him LMAO

“OHNOTHEPRINCEISILLHE’SGOINGTODIEIAMNOTREADYFORTHISNOOOOOOOOO” 

Noct: so can I skip online school like this?

He’d be looked after with almost paranoia, there’s only two of the Lucis Caelum alive and honestly losing the heir and only one that can have kids at this point to the virus woulnd’t be very epic on history books

Noct IS worried, just pretending he’s not. 

Noct is going to avoid Regis LIKE A PRO. He’s going to ask to live somewhere else, will ask to sanitize his room and keep it locked, will ask that Regis gets nowhere near ANY of his belongings. Basically, Noct is going CRAZY over avoiding Regis...so Regis doesn’t catch it :’’( 

What a pure bean

Even if Regis tries visiting him, and even if the whole place is sanitized and like a little bubble away of the rest of the world, Noct will still not want him to come inside. 

Honestly, this is going to make Regis really, deeply sad and maybe even hurt. He wants to stay positive, but he keeps thinking of what if Noct dies to it, and not only dies, he’d also die without having held him for a last time or seen him.

They meet through the window. They phone each other and just touch through the closed window... :’) </3

Noct knows he may be over protecting Regis, but he’s honestly not going to have it any other way. He has way more than enough watching his old man grow old too fast from the Ring to run the risk of giving him this stupid virus. If he has to make his old man sad in order to keep him healthy, SO BE IT. 

Ignis

He’s fine.

He’s just so cool with this.

“Ah, of course. A plague. It was our turn, as was expected.”

...w...what are you talking about, Ignis.

He’s barely impressed. 

Master of following instructions, they told Ignis to stay home and THAT he did.

The store? The neighbor? Just an inch outside his main door? NO. THAT’S NOT INDOORS.

It’s not that he’s paranoid, he’s just not bothered by the idea fo not going out and he knows that the more he stays home the faster this will pass that he just. Stays in, sometimes not even looking out the window for a day or two.

Ignis still phones Noct each two days to remind him his room is messy do something because I won’t, or do nothing, the cockroaches will help you with the crumbs and leftovers in a day more.

Ignis isn’t bored. He still has home office and paperwork to do, the poor, young, miserable thing. 

In his spare time he likes doing stuff he likes, as he normally didn’t have the time to do. 

Ignis is making sure to call the other chocobros to make sure they’re ok. He’s particularly attentive to Prompto.

Boy is having video calls with Gladio because Best Friends. 

Ignis attempts to do as your raccoonie; will try to finish two-week worth of his paperwork in one or two days t o have the rest of the time free LMAO

(I hope, unlike me, he’s succeeding at that)

Ignis worries mostly about others and the outside Lucis. He takes up on the advantage of being bros with the prince to suggest something, that Noct can suggest to Regis to make it better for as many people as possible.

If he got sick, he’d attend hospital and not go out until he’s 100% okay AND spent 2 weeks with no fall back into it. 

He’d thank the doctors and nurses like every five minutes honestly. Iggy appreciates they’re doing such high risk job, keeps admiring them. Dammit.

He would accept no visits. Is it the prince? tell him to FUCK OFF. 

Mostly the throne family Ignis won’t dare visit even after he’s healed.

“IGNIS IT’S OK YOU’VE BEEN FINE FOR A MONTH”

“TALK TO ME WHEN QUARENTINE IS OVER AND/OR THERE IS A VACCINE, GET THE FUCK OFF MY FRONT YARD”

Ignis is not overly worried about the illness. He has stupidly strong defenses and can see himself getting out of this. He worries just what’s normal but keeps spirits up with all the numbers of healed cases.

Go Iggy! 

Gladio

Surprisingly, he’s taking this really well.

Gladio’s sort of more scared than the rest at the news; he was so prepared for physical enemies, the idea of an abstract, non-physical one suddenly sweeps him off his feet.

But he handles it well. So long he doesn’t watch the news.

Gladio won’t listen or read the news on the virus; he’s aware of it, he’ll take care and be careful, but he won’t read or hear numbers or updates, he’ll just live this out until it’s over.

Gladio takes his mind off it with indoor exercising, lots of it. 

Gladio’s job was mostly physical, so he takes on the advantage that he has nearly no chances of home office to do stuff he likes; mostly, this nerd will drown in history documentaries on KupoTube, will watch the equivalent of Disney and Dreamwork movies, will read like the world is ending, and will take up on online courses.

He likes crafts. Okay? Leave him alone and let him give his baby steps into watercolor painting. 

Gladio is video calling Noctis. To force him to exercise LMAO

“OY, NOCT, THIS IS PRE-RECORDED, DO YOU THINK I’M AN IDIOT? COME BACK HERE TO YOUR COMPUTER OR IT’LL BE WORSE”

Gladio is holding back a Desperate-To-Go-Out Iris.

She’s not irresponsible, she just HATES INDOORS LET ME GO OUT IT’LL BE JUST AROUND THE BLOCK

Gladio’s not letting Jared go ANYWHERE

“SOMETHING HAPPENS TO YOU AND I DIE, YOU STAY HERE, I’LL GO BUY GROCERIES AND DON’T YOU DARE GET ANYWHERE NEAR ME AFTER I’M BACK UNTIL I’VE SHOWERED”

Gladdy it’s ok :’)

A bit paranoid when it comes to others, though will still be a bit paranoid about himself.

Gladio is mostly calm about it; just a few times every now and then he’s stressed and a bit too troubled for an easy sleep.

Video calls Iggy every day because Best Friends.

Iggy keeps him sane, the baby :’(

Honestly, Gladio also makes sure that Ignis is ok. Ignis is always looking after all other three, but Gladio is who’s most aware of looking after Ignis. Ignis won’t say it, but he’s probably feeling very lonely after a month indoors, as his family won’t pay much attention to him. Gladio’s making sure to keep him happy, distracted, and in good spirits, and in company.

If he got sick, he’d probably have a very bad emotional time at first.

Gladio would cry and think nearly for sure that he’s dead already.

Not like in drama, he would seriously get sad and be very, very scared :’(

Same than Noct, he wouldn’t let Clarus near him or any of his belongings, nor Jared. Not Iris either, of course, but he worries more for the older men.

Gladio would probably not do very well emotionally in hospital. He’d spend there the necessary time, but then he would probably like most to be in an apartment for himself if available or in his room without letting anyone near. 

Gladio will keep thinking of the chances to live or die, of how scary the idea of a virus with no cure is, will get really gloomy and negative on it.

His family try to provide emotional support, but every time they call Gladio just drowns himself in ideas like what their family would do if he died and it just makes him sadder

The doctors and Iggy are what keep his spirits up, to be honest.

The sadness lasts the first days. AFter that, Gladio’s going to handle the ilness like a DAMN WARRIOR

“YOU INJECT THAT THING, DOC, BRING IT ON”

A new treatment and the consequences are unsure? BRING IT ON.

Whatever it is, Gladio’s HEAD IN FOR IT

Baby boy just needed some time to process it. After that he’s just taking it so lightheartedly, even the doctors get cheered up at his bright attitude towards it.

“You’ve progressed on a 1%”

“HELL YEAH ONE PERCENT!!!!!!!!!!! :D”

What a beautiful boy omg

Prompto

This one is the chocobro that REALLY gets hit by quarentine.

Prompto’s not hyperactive, he can stay indoors if they ask him to...the problem is his house.

Prompto gets easily anxious staying at home for too long. He spent his childhood locked away in there, isolated. No parents, no friends, nothing. He stayed locked away in what was the toughest moments of his life. He doesn’t hate indoors, he hates indoors at his house. It brings all of that back.

Prompto’s trying to keep all the lights on to make it less like in his childhood; gets easily guilty remembering the huge debt the King put himself into so he doesn’t have to pay for electricity and now he’s wasting it. 

Prompto gets easily anxious around food nowadays. Remembers it was staying indoors doing but eat what got him so fat and lonely.

(Prommy it’s ok, fat is not bad :(( this poor angel )

Honestly Prompto’s so busy emotionally stressing over being indoors at his house that the pandemic in the world isn’t even super concerning, it’s just as if there was a storm outside; he knows it’s bad and that not everyone can stay safe from it, but he’s just worried in his own situation at home.

His parents get to stay indoors with him for home office, which is as good as it is bad.

For some reason it’s not so comforting because it makes Prompto think of how absent they used to me. For some reason, it also IS comforting because unlike his childhood, at least they’re there now.

Prompto tries to make the best out of this and tries bonding with them when they’re not busy.

It actually works <3 They don’t get overly emotional or anything but they get to spend some good time together, watch movies, talk more, etc.

It helps Prom with the food issue that Dad does the cooking this time.

Good as his parents are with him during quarentine, it’s home, like the physical place what keeps gnawing at his emotional health.

Prom is going to try EVERYTHING to keep himself distracted. 

Iggy phones him constantly, which helps a lot. Noct videocalls him everyday, which really keeps him up.

Prom is taking BUNCHES of online courses and classes, bECAUSE THIS BOY LOVES DOING AND LEARNING STUFF

Week 6 of quareantine, Prompto has made his own jacket out of kitchen towels. It’s...actually impressive.

If he got sick, he too would be paranoid.

More than sad, Prompto would be openly scared and nervous.

EXTRA

The chocobros as a Four:

They’re having online video parties and meetings.

The four got a pizza each. They’re video meeting, and pretending it’s the same pizza lol

“YOU ATE THE LAST SLICE HOW DARE YOU, I TOLD YOU I WANTED IT!!! >:’‘(”

The guys are showing their quarentine achievements to each other.

“Look, I’ve let my feet nails long because I don’t need shoes anymore and I shaped them like I’m a dragon haha”

“Oi look, I learned a new trick with my yo-yo”

“Look how GREASY my hair is right now haha. what do you mean if I’m attending the national interview later like this, of course I am”

The chocobros are sending each other online courses that they think the others or one of them will like

They’re having one of those online movie in different computers together. 

Also multiplayer games because they can.

Ignis wins every time. 

The chocobros are playing a 4-members Squad mode in Battle Royale games. Noct and Prom are okay. Ignis is the Pro. Gladio is the bait.

Iris:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Cor: 

Cor is surprisingly calm about this.

Cor is spending his time meditating.

Cor has barely any paperwork, as his work is mostly physical, so he gets a lot of time free with Regis’ politics for a proper literally-no-need-to-go-out politics. Meditation that is.

Cor is phoning Prompto each now and then, too. 

Prompto would answer happily that he’s fine and with no virus. Cor finally once tells him he’s not asking if he’s ok about the virus. Prom needed no more explanation and just said he was ok, if a little sad.

Cor is working out at home.

Cor is getting bored.

Cor is reading, watching series, or meditating, or cooking just for the sake of it.

Cor just has one problem.  He’s a workaholic. You give him no work, this man starts slowly having a meltdown and descent into the abyss of madness. He needs to die of stress, how else do you expect him to live?

The first weeks were fine. After the first few weeks Cor starts getting anxious about needing work to do.

Cor you stupid thing 

Cor is starting to get distracted in meditation because he keeps getting anxious about working in something.

Cor starts phoning Regis.

“Do you have any paperwork for me now?”

This is every two days. 

Regis COULD have given him something. Regis doesn’t. Cor needs to learn to know how to be AT PEACE FOR FUCKING ONCE.

Cor is making paperwork up to work on lol

Cor was diagnosed with the virus. They put the virus in quarentine for its safety. 

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Start Line (Part One of Two)

M/F Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 7.2K

Genre: Boys over Flowers AU! Strangers to enemies to potential lovers!

Summary: Starting a new school is never easy, but the four rich and popular boys who pretend like they’re above the rest of the student population? Well, that makes everything even worse.

A/N: You don’t need to watch the show to understand, but it might be fun! AKA this is a Kdrama recommendation. 

Also, I’m super sorry to the anonymous user who asked for this and probably impatiently waited for me to get a grip!!! 

Tagging @skzwriternet​

For my entire life, I’ve had to work harder than everyone else to secure the things that I wanted the most. 

Which is why nothing could enrage me more than the sight of the four boys sitting on the bleachers together in my new school’s gymnasium.

I had just recently transferred into the school on a swimming scholarship, and a young student assistant offered to give me a tour of the facilities before my first day of scheduled classes. Her name was Suzy, and she had enough intel on the school’s population that even the CIA would be jealous. 

I wasn’t normally one for drama, but Suzy’s warning about the school’s infamously named “F4″ was enough to leave me feeling cautious: “You see those guys over there?” she had asked when we sat down together on the bleachers. “It’s fair to say that they run the school, so most people try to avoid pissing them off.”

The boys in question were all starters for the school’s accolade-heavy basketball team. Apparently, that meant a lot in this affluent and well-endowed community, and I could tell that they considered themselves with the highest regard. Especially the oldest, a handsome blonde whose killer accent was surely the ruin of any one of those poor girls who flocked around them like they were desperate for attention.

“Bang Chan,” Suzy informed me. “He’s the leader, and his family owns an entire line of luxury hotel chains.”

“I guess that means something special?” I remarked, and Suzy gave me a curious look. 

“His family owns the school, but if we’re talking worth, then his parents pretty much own this whole town.”

“So, he takes advantage of that,” I noted, and Suzy nodded her head before indicating to the other three boys.

“They’ve all been friends since they were kids, but everyone knows that Chan and Changbin are super close.”

“Changbin?” I questioned, and Suzy pointed to the introspective and sullen-looking student who was ignoring all of the other girls with narrowed dark eyes. 

“His parents died when he was young,” she explained. “He lives with his grandfather.”

“Oh?” I wondered, and I looked at Changbin again with a fresh perspective - as someone who had experienced trauma that would follow him for the rest of his life.

“Felix and Minho are the real fuckboys,” Suzy continued. “They’re notorious for the weekend rule.”

“The weekend rule?”

“Find a college party, hook-up with a nameless girl, and then leave her before she’s too attached.”

“Fuck boys,” I grumbled in agreement, and Suzy sighed as if she had personal experience...but I seriously doubted that someone of her caliber would stoop so low knowing full well what kind of reputation she was dealing with.

“The entire school is at their beck and call,” she said. “They do whatever they want, and nobody ever questions them.”

“Well, I’m here to graduate and find a good college for swimming,” I said, meeting Chan’s gaze from a distance. “I don’t have time for games.”

The ominous faction leader smirked as he held my stare, eyeing me up and down with a flicker of interest that I chose to ignore when Suzy asked if I wanted to finish the rest of our tour.

Day One

On my first day of classes, Suzy was kind enough to stick close to my side, although I was beginning to see that she wasn’t very popular, and we were mostly ignored by the rest of the populace. Which was just fine with me.

“Check it out!” she exclaimed. “Our schedules are almost identical.”

“I’m glad,” I said, ducking my head to avoid a couple of rough-housing football players who were “playfully” knocking each other into the lockers. “I’m pretty sure you could get lost in here.”

“Well, ideally, most students start here in Elementary school, and they stay all the way through High School,” Suzy said. 

“A pretentious education at its finest,” I remarked, wondering how much money was literally walking by me with every Luis Vuitton bag and Gucci-made uniform that passed in opposing directions. 

“Do you start swimming after school?” Suzy asked, making easy conversation as we entered our first classroom - advanced biology.

“Yeah,” I said, following Suzy to the back of the room. “There’s a tournament this weekend.”

“Already?” Suzy gasped, and she plopped down into one of the desks next to me. “Will you have enough time to practice?”

“I’ll be fine,” I reassured her, reaching for a spare notebook as the teacher walked in to begin one of the most intense lectures that I had ever attended.

But the school’s Academic reputation was no joke, and I imagined that they hired the finest teachers that the school’s infinite endowment could afford - a budget that would eclipse the remainder of the public schools in the district. Yet, no one seemed to blink an eye at how obviously unfair that was, as if these well-off students deserved a high-class education simply because their parents made more money than they could spend.

My new socio-economic environment was becoming more and more apparent, and I was suddenly feeling every part of the outcast who wandered into the wrong part of town with good intentions. But a moralistic attitude would get you nowhere in life if everyone else refused to acknowledge the fact. 

I learned quickly that the students at this school were only looking after themselves, but the lesson was hard to accept. Which might explain my uncharacteristic heroism when it came to defending Suzy later on that afternoon when she agreed to give me a ride home after swim practice.

I was outside, sending a message to my mom, when I noticed a black SUV careening backwards at a speed that was far too fast. Meanwhile, Suzy had settled down inside the car to start the ignition, messing with the dials on the radio, when a powerful jolt sent her jerking forward. “What the hell?” Suzy shrieked, turning around in her seat only to startle with that “deer in the headlights” look of absolute horror.

“Shit!!” she cursed, and I watched her get out of the car before taking a deep breath and joining her on the opposite side of her smashed trunk where a huge crowd of students had started to gather around us.

They were talking rapidly amongst themselves, and I figured out why they were so interested the minute Bang Chan and one of his friend - Felix, perhaps? - walked up to Suzy with a bored expression. “You do this often?” were the first words I ever heard from Chan. “I can’t believe you got in my way.”

Suzy immediately bowed her head - submitting to the older Senior. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, but I couldn’t stand to watch her expose her most vulnerable position. 

“Hey!” I shouted, walking around Suzy’s crumbled form to stand toe-to-toe with the infamous Bang Chan.

“You must be the new girl,” Chan remarked, eyeing me up and down with vague interest. “I kinda expected something more when I saw you the other day...”

I seethed when his gaze fell lower, as if pointing out something that only hormonal teenage boys would care about. “I’m not here to impress you,” I replied, and he arched one brow.

“I don’t need to be impressed,” Chan said. “But your little friend disrespected me, and I think she should apologize.”

“You’re the one who wasn’t looking!” I snapped. “Anyone with eyes could see that you were too busy on your phone to pay attention!”

There was a collective conversation from the crowd, and Chan studied the growing conglomeration of students surrounding our confrontation. “Do you have proof of that? Or, is it your word against mine?”

“Someone with any sense of dignity wouldn’t act this way,” I countered, and Chan immediately started laughing.

“Oh? Isn’t that cute,” he said, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You have a lot to learn around here.”

“The only thing I’ve learned is to stay away from you,” I said, and Chan rolled his eyes like it was the dumbest thing he had ever heard.

And the torment only continued.

“Hey!” I snapped when he knocked his shoulder against mine, coming to stand in front of Suzy again with disdain.

“Pay for the damages,” he ordered. “And then apologize to me.”

“Chan-” Suzy started, but I grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn around. 

“I wasn’t finished,” I said, and our noses almost brushed from the minimal distance I allowed between us. 

“I don’t want to hear anything else about your idea of honor or whatever,” Chan sneered, but he paused when I held up my phone, pressing the play button on the video which provided convincing evidence of the incident.

“What about this?” I asked him, and I could practically see him come undone.

“Give that to me!” he demanded, but I took several steps away from him, returning my cellphone to my pocket. 

“But I’m sure the police would be interested in seeing it.”

Chan’s eyes perceptibly widened, and I felt a surge of triumph in knowing that I had the upper hand. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” I taunted him, briefly glancing over my shoulder at his friend who had started snickering - like he was enjoying our fight. 

“Fine,” Chan huffed. “What do you want?”

“You’ll pay for the damages to my friend’s car,” I said. “And...”

“And?” Chan snapped, clearly impatient.

“You can apologize to her instead,” I finished, and there were several consecutive gasps from the student population.

“Is he gonna do it?”

“There’s no way Chan will give in!!”

“Someone film this!”

My smile continued to widen at the jeers of my classmates, and Chan was finally at his wits end, spinning around on his heels to growl an imperceptible attempt at an apology to Suzy who could only look at him in awe. “We’re done here,” Chan said, and I shrugged nonchalantly, watching him storm away with his friend in tow behind him.

I sighed once they were both gone, feeling a sense of profound justice after proving that even the great Bang Chan could be defeated, but then Suzy appeared in front of me with a grave look in her eyes that told me this whole ordeal was far from over. “Y/N,” she whispered. “What have you done?”

Day Three

The next morning, I walked to my locker feeling every gaze turned in my direction. I frowned at each of them, wondering if this was the aftermath from the incident with Chan and his stupid friends. Yet, when I finally paused in front of my locker, an uncomfortable sensation of dread sent me into a cold sweat when I saw what was taped to the front of the door. 

It was a red card with a black skull at the top and the infamous “F4″ written across the bottom.

“She got the card!” someone announced from off to the side, and it didn’t take long for other students to rush in my direction.

“The card?” I whispered to myself, remembering Suzy’s previous warnings concerning the exploits of the F4 boys. It wasn’t an accident that I had received this ominous warning, and I knew that I was in trouble.

Quickly, I darted through one of the exits leading outside, placing me somewhere on a small veranda where I leaned against the bannister overlooking the school’s athletic fields. “What the hell is wrong with this place!” I screeched, projecting my voice across the fields, and I didn’t expect anyone to hear me...

“Why the hell are you screaming?” 

I paused at the sudden question, widening my eyes when I realized it was closer than I expected. “You come up here often?”

I staggered backward at the interjection, spinning around to locate the voice that had uttered the simple question. “Hello?”

There was a sigh, and then a familiar sweep of brown hair appeared from around the corner. “This is my spot, you know?”

“No,” I said, cringing at my tone. “I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

The recipient in question was none other than Changbin, one of the four members of the school’s notorious F4. His dark black hair was wind-swept across his forehead, falling in thin strands over attentive brown eyes while he leaned against the wall of the small patio sectioned off from the rest of the veranda. “Lesson learned,” Changbin continued, swaggering up the stairs to stand next to me, looking out over the playing fields. “I guess I can’t come here anymore.”

“What do you mean?” I found myself asking without really thinking about what it might look like to show that I was concerned. After all, he was a member of the same F4 that had just terrorized me with their stupid calling card.

“You’re here,” Changbin replied as if the answer might suffice. “I have a feeling this place will be too loud.”

He sighed then before starting for the exit. “W-wait!” I stuttered, unable to put together a logical sentence before Changbin was already walking back inside.

But Changbin’s unexpected appearance proved to be the least of my problems.

For the remainder of the afternoon, I faced an onslaught of humiliation courtesy of my classmates. Everything from jeers between classes, to more insulting pranks like decorating the desk on my homeroom classroom with vulgar language and pictures.

Yet, worst of all was coming face to face with Bang Chan himself who smiled some kind of sickening smirk at me before quietly asking if I had had enough of the torment. “This is nothing,” I growled at him.

“Oh? Well, it’s only gonna get worse,” Chan promised, and he left without another word, leaving me to stew over a powerful combination of anxiety and frustration.

However, Chan’s idea of worse was, indeed, inexcusable. And I nearly screamed when I went to swim that afternoon, only to discover the pool littered with trash. But there was nobody around to help, and I spent the entirety of my scheduled practice time cleaning up with water, wrinkling my nose at a few questionable banana peels.

“I guess he went through with it,” a familiar voice interrupted my trash session, beaming through the haze of disgust lingering with every brush of my fingers across sodden newspaper or moldy plates.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded of Felix and Minho - the infamous duo who were practically glued to Chan’s side.

“We just wanted to meet you,” Felix said, and I watched through narrowed eyes as they brought over chairs from the side to sit down at the poolside.

I frowned. Couldn’t they help? “Why are you interested?” I asked instead, bringing another load of trash to the edge.

“Well, it’s been awhile since anyone stood up to Chan,” Minho explained, and there was a playfulness in his gaze that left me feeling uneasy in concern to their real intentions.

“Doing what’s right shouldn’t make me a martyr,” I said.

“But it does,” Felix replied with a cheeky smile. “He’s gonna keep up the torture, you know,” he continued, waving his hand around to indicate the trash still floating on top of the chlorine-caked water. 

“Forever?” I grimaced, hating that the word had slipped free without really thinking about what it would mean to admit such things to Chan’s friends.

Minho smiled, looking up at something over my shoulder. “I’m surprised to see you here, Changbin?”

I turned around as if it was instinctual, watching the same person from earlier on the veranda walk inside from the locker room. He seemed even more out of place than Minho and Felix, studying the pollution of trash swimming with me. “She’s interesting,” Changbin said, and I was surprised when my stomach did a few somersaults at his confession.

“I agree,” Felix inserted, leaning back against his elbows with his shirt sleeves rucked up high on his forearms. “It’s been a while since Chan has been this invested in something.”

“It would be nice if he could stop,” I grumbled, and I met Changbin’s sincere gaze as he knelt down next to the poolside.

“He’ll give up when he thinks you won’t back down,” Changbin finally decided, and I watched as he started gathering the trash floating in his direction.

Day Seven

In hindsight, my imagination ran wild with scenarios that were more insane with each progressive image that crossed through my head. 

But what could you expect from someone who had just figured out that she was being followed by three burly men wearing suits like they were the Men in Black. 

Each time I started to walk faster, they would also do the same. Until it got to the point where I was zigzagging around corners, doing my best to dodge out of their sight, only to find myself once again confronted with the strange men who had no intentions of leaving me alone.

Eventually, I paused on the sidewalk outside of the school’s entrance. I was running late that morning, which meant nobody else was around to witness this madness. But I was a strong, independent woman with a a no-nonsense attitude that compelled me to project my voice across the well-polished front lawn. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” I began, holding up my hands when they grew closer. “What seems to be the problem?”

“We have orders to bring you to our boss,” they said, which only confused me even more.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know who you’re talking about?”

“Our apologies, miss,” the first man continued. “We were informed that you might try to resist.”

“Like I’m just gonna skip school and leave with a couple of strangers who have no conception of personal space,’ I glowered, but when I tried to spin around on my heel, I found myself colliding with an enormous chest, and I sighed, realizing that they had clearly been distracting me long enough for the third guard to sneak up behind me. “Fine,” I muttered, rolling my eyes when he grabbed my arm, leading me to the sleek black car running at the front of the school.

From there, my day only continued to grow even weirder, especially when I found myself walking up the steps of a gigantic mansion that looked like it could grace the cover of Vanity Fair magazine.

“Where am I?” I tried to ask, but the guards ignored my question, bringing me inside the house where I felt a twinge of misplaced guilt for treading my dirty sneakers across the pristine marble floors that practically shined with my reflection looking back at me.

“Greetings, miss,” a friendly tone greeted me, and I studied the older gentleman who dismissed the guards with a wave of his wrinkled hand. He was dressed impeccably in a suit with a long coat-tail, balding gray hair styled atop his head in a delicate swoop.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, but the butler was silent as he indicated for me to follow him. Down the crowded corridors, decorated with large, extravagant paintings, and down the granite staircase descending to the floor in a circular pattern.

Down a stretch of never-ending hallway that led to a bedroom at the end where two younger women - identically matched in uniform - greeted me by name before ushering me inside.

“Can you at least tell me where I am?” I asked the butler who followed us inside, giving out instructions as I was forced onto a stool in front of a vanity mirror, wincing when the woman immediately started to yank a brush through my long hair.

“This might take a while,” she said, and I frowned at her tone, coughing when a fresh puff of powder was streaked across my face - compliments of another girl who had a palate of make-up balanced on her hand like it was a paint tray and my skin was her canvas.

“I’d like to know something,” I insisted, but I was met with silence, crossing my arms across my chest as I resigned myself to the unexpected makeover since it was a thousand times better than my earlier scenarios where I envisioned myself dying from a James Bond-esque death.

It was only a half-hour later when the women declared themselves finished, standing back to admire their work while I had a staring contest with the girl looking back at me in the mirror. Because it was hard to believe that it was me with neat ringlets decorating my scalp, and sticky globs of mascara and foundation hiding the blemishes on my face.

I looked amazing, but it wasn’t really me. Still, I wasn’t given much time to study my new appearance, and I hesitated when the butler extended a black dress in my direction. “Our boss wants you to wear this,” he informed me, and I hesitantly accepted the expensive fabric.

“Who’s your boss?” I tried once more, but the butler simply smiled at me before waiting outside for me to get dressed, and I squeezed myself into the exquisite gown that swept the floor at my feet, hugging my curves and accentuating my figure in ways that my sweatpants and t-shirts couldn't.

When I finally walked back out, the butler smiled at me in approval before waving his hand in a grand fashion. “He’s waiting in the living room.”

I swallowed hard, following him once again through the maze of the house while wondering who I might be meeting. A rich donor? A potential Sugar Daddy?

They were all grand ideas that proved to be far better than the truth, and I could only gape in surprise when I was led into the living room, only to meet Chan’s eager gaze from across the expanse of white, designer-brand carpet.

“You!” I hissed in an accusing tone, watching the butler leave from the corner of my eye.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Chan asked, eliminating the distance between us with a few calculating steps. “They were right about the dress. You actually clean-up nice, Y/N.”

I scoffed at the backwards compliment. “Are you serious?” I nearly growled. “You kidnapped me for this?!”

Chan looked at me in disbelief, and I wondered if it was the first time that he had ever been rendered silent. “Do I not get a thank you?”

“A thank you?” I repeated. Incredulous.

“I brought you here,” Chan said, but he was clearly hesitating. “I thought you might like the attention? The clothes aren’t to your taste?”

“Shit, you’re dense,” I muttered. “Why the hell would you think that?”

“It’s obvious,” Chan said. “Talking down to me the other day, pretending like you aren’t affected by the F4 card...you just wanted my attention. And guess what, Y/N? I’m willing to give it to you.”

I blinked once, trying to understand his ridiculous train of bullshit. “What?!”

“You can be my girlfriend,” Chan said, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s a pretty big deal, but I’m sure you know that. I’ll even let you hold my hand between classes, and maybe come to your swim meets or whatever.”

“Chan...” I started, but then I broke off with a sigh because nothing I could think of seemed like an appropriate response. “I don’t think there’s even a remote chance that I would want to be your girlfriend.” I shivered, releasing a groan just saying the title. “Whatever you think is happening…it’s totally warped inside that screwed up head of yours.”

“Y/N-”

“Please,” I interrupted him, holding up one hand. “I’ve had enough, okay? I just want to go home.”

“But...” Chan tried to protested, stuttering around his words when I yanked off the expensive heels, chucking them off to the side. “How could you not want this?” he asked. “The outfit itself cost over $1,000 dollars.”

“$1,000 dollars?” I repeated, widening my eyes when I thought about how many hours my parents would need to put in at our local laundromat business to even make close to the amount he just threw away like it was nothing. “Chan, I might not live in the same world as you, but where I come from? You don’t make friends with money...you make them from the heart.”

“Impossible!” Chan protested, even as I turned my back to him. “Money can buy anything!”

“Is that why I’m leaving?” I returned, reaching down to hold my dress in place while feeling a small sense of satisfaction at having left Chan completely speechless.

Of course, in hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have tossed the shoes because the cement was hot against the soles of my feet, and I had attracted more than one curious look as I stormed down the street in search of the main road to take me back home.

“Stupid moron,” I huffed, practically jogging down the road with bare feet and my dress hiked up my legs to prevent me from tripping over the train. It was probably a sight for sore eyes when it came to the rich socialites who populated the neighborhood.

But like the sun’s rays penetrating the clouds on a rainy afternoon, I heard the sound of a motorcycle growing closer from behind me. Until the bike was right next to me, and the driver removed his helmet to expose a familiar bush of brown locks.

“Do you need a ride home?” Changbin asked, and I swallowed hard as I met his steady gaze. It was a simple question, but the fact that he didn’t even question me about why I was here? Nor could I detect any judgement in those impenetrable brown eyes that held all the allure, sending my heart knocking against my breastbone once again.

“Yeah,” I agreed, taking the extra helmet from him. “It’s been a shitty day.”

“I know how that feels,” Changbin said, and I was surprised by his easy conversation, planting myself on the seat behind him.

“Thank you for this,” I said, wrapping my arms around his waist and shivering at the thick smell of his cologne.

“It seems like you might be worth the effort,” Changbin remarked before kicking his bike into gear, and my heart did something strange that might be considered very dangerous when it involved the F4.

But I couldn’t help it, and I had never been more at ease this close to someone else.

Day Ten

Despite my adamant protests, the school insisted that I needed to take a physical education course, which meant that I was forced to pretend to enjoy dodgeball with the rest of my classmates. Hiding out at the back while most of the other girls did all the hard work. But I was only meant for one sport, and dodgeball was as far from swimming as one could get.

It helped that Suzy had gym at the same time, and we talked between games, with Suzy leading most of the conversation.as she offered introductions for most of our other classmates. “Mandy,” Suzy grumbled at one point, indicating to a tall blonde with long legs and a permanent sneer. “She thinks that she somehow has a chance to be with Chan, even though he’s kinda made it obvious that he doesn’t think anyone here is good enough.”

“Really?” I snorted, seeking Chan out from the corner of my eye, playing basketball on the courts with the rest of the F4. 

“It’s a running thing here,” Suzy continued. “But most people don’t even try since they don’t want to get on Mandy’s bad side.”

“Whatever,” I replied, averting my gaze when Chan’s eyes met mine. “He’s not even worth it.”

“Most of our classmates would disagree,” Suzy said with a shrug, nudging her shoulder against mine when one of the instructors ordered us to begin the second round.

As usual, I lingered at the the sidelines away from my team, making a half-hearted attempt to play along, especially since I seemed to be a recurring target, using other bodies to protect myself from stray plastic dodgeballs. “What the hell,” I grumbled, wondering if that stupid F4 card was to blame for my classmate’s sudden desire to single me out from everyone else.

I crossed my arms at the thought, finding myself once again looking back over at Chan...Did he think it was funny to make me a target of ridicule? Well, at least Changbin was being surprisingly nice, and just the mere mention of the older boy was enough to do crazy things to my poor heart.

But lost in my daydreams, I failed to notice that Mandy and one of her friends had stalked to the edge of the court, rearing back to throw their dodgeballs at me while I was distracted. “Y/N!” I heard Suzy’s voice scream from across the field, and I looked away from Chan only to find myself frozen in place while a dodgeball flew in my direction.

The sickening CRACK! of the stupid thing hitting my nose was audible, and I immediately tasted blood on my upper lip. “Go clean yourself up, Miss Y/L/N,” one of the instructors said, but I was furious that she was treating the situation so nonchalantly.

It was all Chan’s fault. Even if he hadn't thrown the ball, he empowered his classmates to belittle me at every opportunity, and I was tired of being the school’s metaphorical punching bag. And I hated the tears threatening to fall, refusing to show any signs of weakness as I stormed past Suzy for the girl’s bathroom.

“Fuck,” I cursed as I leaned over the sink, splashing some cold water on my face as I looked at my bloody and mangled reflection in the mirror. 

This was the worst incident so far, and I hated that the situation had escalated to something physical, gripping the edge of the sink tightly as I closed my eyes to regain control over my breathing.

“Here,” a voice whispered from behind me, and I turned around with a glare already contorting my expression when I was forced to face Bang Chan once again.

“It’s your fault,” I replied, snatching the paper towel from him as I dabbed at my nose. “What the hell are you doing in the girl’s bathroom?”

“I’m sorry,” Chan said, but I refused to believe it was sincere, turning back around to check the damage of my nose in the mirror. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“You can’t be sorry after the fact,” I snapped. “You had every chance to make things right and leave me the hell alone.”

“Well, I can’t do that now...” Chan trailed off, and it was surprising to see him suddenly look so unsure of himself. “I'm just trying to help...”

“And who asked you to do that?” I returned, looking at him from the corner of my eye. “Even if you were the last person on Earth, I would never ask for your help!”

My exclamation was punctuated by a rather harsh sound after I shoved the paper towels into the trashcan, preparing to leave the bathroom before Chan grabbed my arm to turn me back around. “What do you dislike so much?” Chan whined. “I don’t understand...I’m rich, handsome, smart...”

“All of it!” I interrupted with a harsh tone, and Chan immediately stumbled back against the sink. “You must not realize, but do you think those things matter to me? Because I can’t even consider them when your entire personality is unattractive! Your arrogant attitude, your stupid face, and that ridiculous curly hair!!”

“Are you insane?” Chan asked, and his bewildered expression would be funny under any other circumstances.

“I’m not done yet,” I sharply interjected. “It annoys me that you guys are allowed to do whatever you want at this school, and the whole red card deal? Where you give everyone a free pass to bully other students? Like it’s nothing? That’s the absolute worst thing about you!!”

“Y/N...”

“Do I need to repeat it?” I interrupted once more. “I hate everything about you!”

The harsh exclamation was met by silence as Chan continued to stare at me, and I decided to leave him alone in silence to think about everything I had said, rejoining my classmates with a sense of relief at having stood up to someone who considered himself as better than everyone else.

Day Fourteen

“You should come with me,” Suzy remarked one afternoon, sitting next to the poolside with me as I swam my regular laps. 

“I’d rather not,” I said, pausing at the edge of the pool to consider her request - a night under the stars, as the school’s dance team had proclaimed it, and it was one of the biggest school events of the year.

“Why?” Suzy whined. “The F4 revoked your red card, and you can meet some more people...maybe even score some connections.”

“Right,” I scoffed, thinking the idea absurd, but I guess it wouldn’t seem so outrageous to the ones who had been dealing with these politics for their entire lives. “I’m not really that outgoing.”

“It’s okay,” Suzy reassured me, and I could tell that she really wanted me to come with her, which is probably why I felt compelled to agree. But her smile and cheering was worth it, especially considering just how good of a friend Suzy had proven to be during the past two weeks.

And that’s how I found myself walking up to the school’s gymnasium that weekend, wearing an uncomfortable black dress that Suzy had agreed to lend me for the occasion. “You look hot, Y/N,” Suzy said, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that my reflection reminded me too much of the time when Chan had brought me to his house to play dress-up.

“I can hear the music all the way out here,” I said, following Suzy up the gym steps.

“Yeah, this event isn’t regulated by the teachers, so it’s basically a free-for-all,” Suzy explained, and I desperately wished that I could find the appeal in that statement, especially once we entered the building, washing us in neon colors of purple and pink. “Let’s dance!” Suzy immediately cried, pulling me to the dance floor despite my protests.

Thankfully, I only had to awkwardly navigate the party scene for one song before Suzy became preoccupied with a very cute Senior boy from our homeroom. I was able to sneak away to the punch bowl, ladling some of the red liquid into my cup before bringing it to my lips. “Hmm,” I wondered, eyeing the drink because it tasted so familiar...”Oh well,” I said, shrugging as I proceeded to drain several more cups before sinking down against the wall, never noticing that a pair of eyes had been watching my every movement until a pair of Versace-toed boots stopped in front of me. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Chan remarked, and I was shocked that he had the guts to talk to me after honoring my request to be ignored for the past several days.

“What do you want?” I grumbled, reluctantly taking his outstretched hand to help me stand again because my vision was unusually blurry and my stomach was churning.

“The punch was spiked,” Chan said, chucking at my disheveled state.

“Spiked?” I repeated, finding myself totally incoherent as I leaned most of my weight against him. “When did that happen?”

“The Seniors do it as a prank,” Chan said, and his gaze seemed to soften as he held me close. “Do you want to sit down?”

“That would be nice,” I slurred, allowing him to guide me over to the bleachers where I dropped down with a thud!

“Damn, you’re pretty wasted,” Chan said, looking me over with an uncharacteristic amount of concern.

“I didn’t know...” I trailed off, pointing back at the punch bowl. “It tasted so good.”

“I bet it did,” Chan said, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he cleared his throat. “I saw that you came with your friend, but maybe you might want some company?”

“Sure!” I said, patting the space next to me. “You’ve caught me in a good mood.”

Chan grinned - a genuine smile that I could hardly recognize - as he sat down with a sigh. “This doesn’t really seem like your type of scene.”

“Not really,” I agreed, narrowing my eyes when the room started swaying. “But you’re not my usual type of person.”

“Right,” Chan agreed, chuckling awkwardly as he messed up his hair - straightened instead of curly. “Maybe we could go somewhere else?”

I frowned because, even though I might’ve been a little more than tipsy, I still remembered that I didn’t like Chan, and there was no reason for me to go anywhere with him. “Are you intentionally ignoring everything I said from the other day?”

“No,” Chan murmured. “But I was hoping that I could give you space...and maybe a chance to prove myself?”

“Really?” I snorted. “How much have you changed since the last time we talked?”

“Probably not much,” Chan acknowledged, much to my surprise. “But after everything you said, maybe I’d like to? And I feel like you’re the only person who can be honest enough to help me.”

“Oh,” I replied, slightly disconcerted by Chan’s abrupt change in attitude. “Still, after everything you did...”

“I know I don’t deserve it,” Chan quickly agreed. “But I think you’re one of the rare kinds of people who believes in second chances.”

I exhaled loudly at his words, and in part to keep myself from throwing up after all the alcohol I ingested. “Where would we go?”

“What about a date at the diner downtown?” Chan asked, swallowing hard. “With me?”

“Let’s not call it a date,” I grimaced, and Chan agreed, even though it seemed to be a reluctant remission on his part. “But, yeah, that actually might be nice.”

“Perfect!” Chan said, and he was already on his feet with an energy that was impossible to ignore. “I’ll have Changbin tell your friend. Wait right here, and I’ll come back.”

“Okay,” I muttered, clutching my stomach as I watched Chan run off into the crowd. “Jeez, Y/N,” I groaned. “What are you doing with this guy?”

It might be one of the worst decisions of my life, but something he said struck a nerve deep inside of me. He might be unbearable, but he was right about one thing: people could always change, and I was the type of person who allowed second chances...just as long as someone was willing to earn it and prove themselves.

“Are we taking your car?” I asked, staggering against Chan’s hold as he brought us outside the gym.

“Yeah,” he said. “We can take my car, and you can sober up on the way.”

“Good idea,” I agreed, regretting the decision to drink so much of that stupid punch with every swaying step towards Chan’s expensive sports car.

He had the decency to open the door for me, and I fell inside with a grunt, waiting for him to turn over the ignition before he started fussing over me. “Do you need anything? Something to drink? Are you hot or cold? Should I turn on the music?”

“Don’t ask questions,” I gritted out - a response to everything while I leaned my head against the window.

“Got it,” Chan said, and he dutifully followed through on his promise, never speaking again until we pulled into the parking lot of the diner he had advertised earlier. “Do you feel any better?”

I nodded, an honest response. Because the drive had taken close to twenty minutes, and I had found a water bottle in the floor, downing the contents to settle my stomach and the wave of nausea that only alcohol could bring. “We can go inside,” I said, rolling my eyes when he made a show of coming around to help me out of the car, grabbing my arm despite my protests. “What is this place?” I asked when we walked inside, choosing an empty table near the back.

“My friends come here a lot,” Chan replied. “It’s quiet.”

“Quiet?” I laughed. “There’s no way it’s quiet if the whole school comes here.”

“They don’t,” Chan said, surprising me yet again. “Nobody knows we come here.”

He gave me a meaningful look, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was risking a lot by entrusting me with their secret. “Got it,” I said, miming myself closing a zipper across my lips (perhaps that was the drunkenness affecting my judgement).

But Chan still laughed, and then he went to the counter to order, leaving me to contemplate what the actual hell I was doing with the school’s literal celebrity who treated most people like shit, including me for a short while at the very beginning.

At this point, I really couldn’t blame the alcohol. So, what was wrong with me? Why was I doing this?

“Here,” Chan said, dropping a mug of something sweet down in front of me, effectively interrupting my internal conflict.

“Hot chocolate?” I asked, and I was definitely caught off-guard as Chan shrugged and sat down in front of me.

“I thought you might prefer this,” he admitted.

“Oh...” I started, searching for a good response. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” Chan said, and he smiled as he watched me taste the foam resting on top. “Is it good?”

“It’s nice,” I admitted, and Chan had the appearance of someone who had just landed an acceptance to their dream college.

“You’re different from the others,” Chan said, switching the topic. “I like that about you, and it makes me regret everything I’ve done even more.”

“Yeah,” I huffed. “That red card shit needs to stop.”

“I agree,” Chan said, bringing his mug even closer. “My friends have wanted to stop for a while...”

“They’re way smarter than you,” I said, tilting my head to the side as if it might give me a different vantage point of the confusing boy sitting in front of me. “Did you really want to come here with me?”

Chan nodded, eyes gleaming. “You’re interesting,” he decided, mirroring the exact same thing that Changbin had said to me a while back. “I think I like you a lot, which is why what you said to me at my house and in the bathroom really made me reconsider a lot of things.”

“Oh?” I questioned him, amused by his reasoning, and possibly even endeared by his regretful expression. “I might learn to like you...” I trailed off, laughing at his puppy-dog eyes as he looked at me with obvious desperation. “If you learn to behave.”

“Is that so?” Chan remarked, and his smile was perfectly sincere. “Well, I think you’re the best person to teach me.”

And despite our complicated history together - unwinding after such a brief amount of time in one another’s company - I was more than willing to try for the very strange boy who was starting to show me the intricate layers underneath all the wealth and arrogance - a mere façade for something better, the potential for good if a brave enough person was careful enough to find it.

End of Part One

[kaistarus]

What It Takes To Survive--Hunger Games AU

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Words: 5.7K

Notes: This was a request from @deneuves​ and it took a while to complete(forgive me, but it got out of hand lol) Not all the references are accurate I’m sure, but I did my best. Please enjoy :3

Summary: Bakugou had been training his entire life to become a tribute while you stayed on the sidelines wanting nothing to do with it. What are you supposed to do when there’s a fluke and you’re sent into the arena with no training? And with the boy who you’d finally started working out your feelings with?

You watched his lips form your name with desperation in his eyes, but all you could hear was a faint buzz. You wanted to reach for him except a weight immobilized both your arms and you couldn’t move. Any senses that remained were too slow for you to use properly and you felt helpless as you watched Bakugou’s eyes become watery.

You wanted to reassure him, lie that things would be okay, but you struggled to even form words. He was screaming now. You could tell by the ugly crease he always got between his brows. You were growing dizzier by the second and just wishing you could grab his hand one last time.

This wasn’t fair. You kept repeating it to yourself as Bakugou sneered at the people who were watching you suffer for their amusement.

This wasn’t how your story was supposed to end.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

          It was your least favorite part of the day: gym training. You were off in the farthest corner with Midoriya practicing how to throw knives while he sat on the ground beside you taking notes. Although you tried your hardest, focusing intensely on the body’s center, only two of the ten knives hit their target.

          You let out a frustrated growl and stomped over to the practice dummy.

          “Don’t get upset,” Midoriya said without looking up. “It’s not like we’ll be picked to compete anyway.”

          You raised a brow after collecting the fallen knives. “You used to be so eager to get that number one spot. Where’d that fire go?”

          He lowered his notebook and gave you a dead stare. “I grew up and realized I didn’t want to die just for our district’s monetary benefit.”

          “Wish other people could realize the same thing.”

          He tilted his head before a buzzer rang throughout the gymnasium signaling the end of another sparring match. You both watched Bakugou Katsuki hop off the center mat leaving a classmate flat on his back and out of breath. Bakugou, however, looked unphased and was smirking wildly with confidence. You frowned. It hurt to see that your childhood friend turned into the District 2 show dog.

          A group of girls nearby start to whisper and point towards the center ring. You look back at Bakugou who was now taking a long swig of water and the girls started to giggle while shoving each other lightly. A sneer formed on your face. You turn back towards the target and throw a knife.

          A perfect headshot.

          “Hey! Turns out jealousy is your motivator.” Midoriya nodded his head before scribbling something down. “Who knew…”

          “Wha—” You looked between him and the practice dummy. “I wasn’t—what do you—jealous? About what?”

          Midoriya rolled his eyes. “It’s been ten years. Don’t even pretend like you don’t—”

          “Deku!” You both turned at the rough voice. Bakugou was looking over with his cocky smirk which was never a good sign. “Get over here so I can kick your ass.”

          Midoriya pouted, mumbling curses as he placed his notebook beside him. You just sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. Bakugou always got too conceded when he was on a winning streak, and the teachers never bothered telling him what to do anymore. You were getting sick of it.

          “Fight someone else Bakugou.” You scowled.

          Bakugou raised a brow, smirking. “Yeah? Who ya thinking?”

          “It’s not a big deal. He never goes all out.” Deku looked at you wearily, but you shook your head. Bakugou taking it easy wasn’t the issue. The point was him always getting whatever he wanted just because he could.

          “You gonna fight him?” One of the girls beside you suggested. You looked back at Bakugou and his expression fell for a moment. A round of people shouting in agreeance rang before Bakugou scoffed.

          “Like I’d bother.” He sneered, turning around and walking out the gym. Your face was red as several people laughed. You clenched your fists to help bite back the burning sensation in your eyes.

          “He doesn’t mean it.” Deku frowned, picking his notebook back up. You shook your head at him.

          “Why do you always defend him?”

          Deku mulled over your question carefully, so long you assumed he was ignoring you. “Kacchan has a reason for what he does.”

          No matter how much you wanted to you could never hate Bakugou Katsuki. He was violent, arrogant, and downright disrespectful; but every time he looked at you, you couldn’t fight the truth. You couldn’t erase the years of memories you two had created. Days spent racing through town with Midoriya while you annoyed shop owners for sweets or running through backyards pretending to be tributes branding twigs before understanding what the games truly were. Years of laughter and friendship that were too poignant for you to wipe clean as easily as he had.

          You tilted your head back to where the explosive boy had marched out; just wishing you could understand him for once in your life.

*~*~*~*~*~*

          When he suddenly stopped meeting with you and Midoriya and started focusing on entering the arena you did your best to leave him in the past. When he decided that it was better to play with real swords than brandish sticks and rocks or prank the neighborhood bakers you wanted to push him away. He changed from the person you had admired into something you hated, but you were never able to shake those brave smiles and wild laughter from the younger version of the asshole he’d become.

          You were currently wandering the school’s halls, having forgotten a textbook, when you heard sounds coming from the gymnasium. The room should have been locked at this hour, so you crept towards it. Bakugou was inside, slashing a practice dummy apart with a machete. You watched with an aching heart at the fierce look in his eyes as he zoned out on the target, mindless in his actions. Was there even a shred of the old him in there or had it all been destroyed?

          “The fuck are you looking at?”

          Your eyes shot wide and you straightened up. You hadn’t even realized you spaced out and you couldn’t think of any excuse because the truth was you were watching him like a creep, and there would be no recovery. You cursed internally as he stared at you expectantly for the answer you didn’t have.

          “I don’t understand.” You went for, which was wrong, and you regretted immediately.

           “I already know you’re an idiot, but why are you being an idiot in my gymnasium?” He raised an eyebrow. You narrowed your eyes. His gymnasium? That statement made your heart drop to your stomach.

          “You’re smart, Bakugou. You’ve always been smart. Why are you putting so much effort into this?” You gestured around the gym. “You must know what it really stands for.”

          He took a deep breath. “I don’t have a lot of options.”

          “Killing people is really the best option you can—���

          “Yes.” He looked you dead in the eye and the intensity made you take a step back. “I’ve been raised to do this since I was four (Y/N). You have opportunities, but all I have is this.”

          “You could find something. You’re obviously talented I’m sure—”

          “Fuck!” He ran his hands through his hair. “I can’t… The second I started showing promise that’s it. Whether I fucking want to or not I’m going in that arena. You and Deku were always too weak you never had to worry about it. These fuckers went straight to my parents (Y/N) I never had a choice.”

          Your mouth hung half-open in shock. That must have been what Midoriya meant when he said that Bakugou had his own reasons, but you never could have imagined…

          “I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”

          “Yeah. No fucking shit,” he rubbed his palms against his eyes then looked at you confused before wiping your cheeks. You hadn’t even realized you were crying. “Don’t fucking do that. You weren’t supposed to care anymore.”

          “I wasn’t… what?”

          He took a deep breath. “I stopped talking to you and Deku when I figured it out. It was supposed to make things easier.”

          You felt your heart stop at the confession and you shoved him backward. “You can’t just walk out of people’s lives! That’s not your decision to make.”

          “I was going to come back.” He said. “Just… after I made sure I won.”

          You thought about how intensely he had always trained and how suddenly that change had happened. You had always assumed it was because of his need for attention, but it was because he wanted to live. Even now he was spending nights in the training room rather than at home. You brought your gaze to your feet, unable to face him.

          “I hate you…” You mumbled, half-assed and insincere. It was for walking out your life, for one day entering that arena, and for the fact that you didn’t hate him at all. You never had and you never would.

          You clung tightly to your new dress as you walked home. Although you would not be picked tomorrow it was still important that you looked presentable for the cameras—your district had a representation to uphold. Your mother had spent good money on the shimmering blue piece in your arms, and normally you wouldn’t be caught dead wearing it, but you couldn’t let her money go to waste.

          “That was the plan.” He scoffed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

          It had already been six months since you spoke to Bakugou in the gymnasium and already so much has changed. Tomorrow he would be leaving and although you wanted to believe that he would return home, you still couldn’t hold back the pain that overcame you when you imagined watching him on the television. No matter what happened out there the Bakugou you knew wouldn’t be coming back.

          The lights were on in his home as you walked past, and you debated stopping by to say something. He probably had plenty of people over tonight, so there was no reason for you to bother him. He wouldn’t want to see you anyway after you insulted his very being all those nights ago. If he had he wouldn’t have gone right back to ignoring you as if nothing had ever happened.

          As those thoughts filtered through, you were pulled roughly by the arm and dragged off the main road towards back alleys. Panic flooded your system; your district was filled with dangerous people who were skilled with multitudes of weaponry and martial arts. You were as good as dead. You went to swing at your attacker but stopped short when you saw messy ash-blonde hair.

          “Bakugou?”

          “Quiet.” He kept looking around frantically while you both ran, and you became panicked for a separate reason. What were you running from? He eventually stopped in the middle of an alleyway after reassuring himself you were completely alone.

          “Are you… okay?” You took in his disheveled look. His hair was sticking in every direction and he had large bags under his eyes. He looked awful. His eyes snapped to your face and he scanned it slowly.

          “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

          You blinked several times. “I know.”

          “I… I’m going to have to kill people.” He looked down at his shaking hands. You reached for one and held it within your small grasp, rubbing it soothingly with your thumb.

          “I know.” You whispered.

          “I don’t…” He frowned frustratedly. “I didn’t…” He took a shaky breath and leaned his forehead on your shoulder which made you tense. When his body started to shake lightly you relaxed and started running a hand through his coarse locks. You knew he wasn’t talking for you, but for himself. So, you stayed like this until he was able to stand again. His eyes glistened from unshed tears, but you wouldn’t acknowledge them.

           Instead, you smiled and wiped the stray streams left by the ones that had managed to leak down his face, and he furrowed his brows. He watched you move with calculating eyes and suddenly as if a great realization had struck him, his eyes widened. Before you had the chance to question him, he was leaning down to press his lips against yours and you were jumping back in surprise, smacking your head against the wall behind you.

          “Fuck,” he reached toward your head but pulled his hand back to run through his hair stressfully. “I’m sorry. I just—I couldn’t not… I don’t know if I— I’m sorry. Fuck.”

          You didn’t know what to say. So much was happening so fast, and you were already having a hard time processing your own feelings let alone adding his into the mix. But… In front of you was a broken boy. Someone scared to death that they might not have a future and they were looking at you like you were the answer to their pain.

          And you couldn’t turn him away. Not now.

          So, you grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him down for a proper kiss. It was sloppy, bad, and extremely obvious that you both lacked experience; but it was raw and real, and you don’t think you’ll ever experience this kind of passion where your heart wants to explode again in your life. He tightened his arms around you, and you didn’t attempt to fight back the tears that streamed down your cheeks. You weren’t even sure if you had true feelings for this boy yet, or if this was nothing more than a desperate send-off. But you did know that nothing had ever felt safer than this moment in his arms, and nothing had been colder than the moment he pulled away from your lips.

          “I’m going to win,” he whispered. This time he spoke it like a promise, to who you didn’t know or care. It didn’t matter.

          You were standing amongst the familiar faces of girls you’d known since birth. Everyone was quiet today and the air was heavy as they waited for names to be drawn, even those who wished they were in Bakugou’s position were solemn. Your eyes remained on his broad shoulders as he kept up his usual bravado for the cameras; the girl beside him, however, looked as though she was going to vomit.

          “I know,” you replied, kissing him for the third but not final time that evening. When you finally managed to drag yourself home it was way past your curfew, and you found yourself sneaking in through your bedroom window. In the morning you did your best to avoid the knowing glances from your parents.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

          Eventually, the woman from the capital walked upon the stage and called out one of the boys’ name, Bakugou volunteered the moment they asked, and your heart rate spiked since it was closer to when he would be gone, possibly forever. It hurt. You didn’t even notice your own name being called until the girl beside you nudged you forward. You walked mindlessly, catching a panicked look from Bakugou who let his false confidence slip. You stepped onto the stage and gave a reassuring smile to your family and Midoriya because this was only until the real contender came forward, you were only a placeholder.

          “Do we have any volunteers?”

          Your smile started to slip at the ever-growing silence and the girl in front of you had her hands gripping her hair, breathing heavily. The cameras were on her, but nothing came from her mouth. You slowly processed what was happening and turned to Bakugou who appeared devoid of all emotion.

          “Well, no female volunteers from district 2.” The woman smirked at you. “There’s a first time for everything, I suppose.”

          Shouts of protest arose as hands shot into the air, but the woman waved them away. There was a time and place and the audience hadn’t been punctual, so their volunteering wouldn’t be counted. It would be you going into the arena.

          It was obvious to the country that you weren’t properly trained to compete. Your only advantage was being raised in district 2, but that still only had you scoring in the middle of the group. You were a below-average fighter by district 2 standards which put you at a greater disadvantage since that made you extremely unlikable in the capital’s eyes. If you were lucky, they would want to keep you around for curiosity’s sake, but more than likely they would want to be rid of you immediately.

          You bit your tongue till a metallic taste flooded your mouth in hopes the cameras wouldn’t notice your need to cry.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

          If it wasn’t for Bakugou receiving the highest score and acting like a complete alpha male around the other tributes, you probably would be even worse off. Although he hadn’t spoken to you since you had stepped foot on the bullet train, he was still sticking close to your side anytime someone went near you. The entire capital was eating up his personality and you felt miserable at each event you partook in. If he wasn’t wasting his energy on you Bakugou really could have a chance at winning this year.

          You knew it was selfish of you to reach out to him when he’d made it clear that he didn’t want anything to do with you anymore. Logically, you understood this was best for both of you, but tonight was possibly the last night you would ever have; you couldn’t spend it staring out the window of a foreign room that reeked of inhumane isolation. So, selfishly you stood outside his room with your fist raised trying to gather the courage to knock.

          You took a breath, readying yourself for possible rejection when the door slid open and Bakugou stood before you silhouetted by a radiant, artificial moonlight. Your eyes went wide, and your face flushed as you started to stutter.

          “Wha—what are you doing up?” You asked lamely.

          “Pee.” He started looking you up and down before glancing down the hallway. “Why are you outside my door?”

          You racked your brain for a not weird answer to why you had been standing there for going on fifteen minutes, but you had nothing. “You’ve been ignoring me…”

          The words sounded so much worse when you said them aloud. You didn’t know how else to phrase it in the middle of the night when you were running on little sleep and high anxiety.

          He checked the hall one more time before pulling you into his room. You felt your face turn a deep shade of red. Now really wasn’t the time to be freaking out about being in a boy’s bedroom.

          “They have ears everywhere,” he whispered. “We can’t just… I can’t let them use you against me.”

          You stared dumbfounded as he frustratingly sneered at his feet. You hadn’t even thought about them listening to your conversations before the games, but it made complete sense that they would look for information to manipulate the players. He really had thought of everything when preparing himself all these years. You nodded your head and glanced back to the door, taking a deep breath.

          “This sucks.”

          He snorted, hesitating before grabbing your hand. “Understatement of the fucking century.”

          You looked at your interlocked fingers and let yourself relish in the warmth, rolling around the thought that this may be the last time you get to do this. You were surprised at the level of affection he displayed when he gently placed his forehead against yours.

          “I’m not going to let you die, okay?” He whispered. You furrowed your brows and struggled to grasp at words before he was pulling away and ruffling his messy hair. “You should rest. We have a fucked day tomorrow.”

          You nodded slowly, allowing him to guide you out by the small of your back. You said goodnight to each other quietly and once you crawled back into your too-large bed you felt your heart begin to twist as the implications of his words hit you.

          One of you was going to die in the next few days, but it wasn’t going to be him. You weren’t the one who had prepared for this day and you weren’t going to let him waste his life trying to protect you. He had a chance and you didn’t.

          Bakugou held your arm gently, rubbing some sort of capital healing salve on the cut you’d just received on your bicep. You were both covered in grime, a layer of sweat coating your bodies and slicking your hair into wild styles. Splotches of blood were smeared across his face and you’d been too exhausted to think about who it belonged to anymore. It didn’t matter.

          Bakugou could think whatever he wanted, but he wasn’t going to die for you. Not if you could help it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

          He dug through his knapsack and pulled out a roll of bandages to tie around your wound, fastening it till you winced. You took in the deep circles under his eyes, the gauze wrapped around his leg, and bruises along his jaw. You grabbed his wrist as he reached for more supplies—his supplies. He’d been wasting everything on you since you’d arrived there.

          “Bakugou… we can’t keep—”

          “Don’t.” He stood, tossing everything back into the bag. He handed you the small daggers that’d just been used to slice your arm and some dried meat. “These are yours now. Bitch barely had anything on her.”

          You shivered at the mention of the girl from district 1. The crazy look in her eyes as she came at you full sprint with a bloodthirsty grin. You were as good as dead if it wasn’t for Bakugou…

          A cannon went off. In the sky, a boy’s dangerous smirk flashed briefly. Bakugou let out a relieved breath—it was someone he’d tussled with early in the games who’d inflicted the only serious injury he had. You also felt relief that the strongest competitor he faced was out of the arena, simultaneously it made your stomach churn that you were both getting elated over other’s dying. What had this place done to you?

          “There’s only a few left now…” You pointed out while rotating your fists with the knives in your grasp, trying to mimic how the girl had moved with such ease.

          “Yeah,” a smile spread across Bakugou’s face. “There’s only two more and then it’s just—”

          “Just us?” You raised a brow. Bakugou looked at you for a moment before sneering and turning away. He finished packing things up and tossed the bag on his back. “Bakugou we need to split up before we have to—”

          “I can’t have you wandering around here yourself. You’ll humiliate our district.” He growled. You took a deep breath because that’s the same excuse he’s been using since you entered the arena. “I’ll figure it out…”

          “There’s nothing to figure out Bakugou.” You rolled your eyes. “One of us has to die and—”

          “Shut up!” He shouted aggressively and you just sighed dejectedly. He ran a hand roughly through his hair and looked you in the eyes. “We’re going to the lake. We need more water.”

          You looked after him crestfallen as he stomped ahead of you. You wished you could wrap your arms around him and console him, but there was nothing you could say for comfort. There was nothing to make this situation better. You wanted to walk in the opposite direction, but you didn’t have the strength to leave—mentally or physically. You were too scared and too selfish.

          You had been preparing yourself for this moment since that girl was too scared to take the place as the true tribute from your district. You knew you were going to die, whether at your own hand or by someone in the arena, you knew it had to be you. However, mental preparations didn’t make facing a reality like this any easier.

          You hoped these few moments together—this short time—would be worth it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

          You could tell the moment you started dying. There was never a second you questioned it. The pain you had created in your upper abdomen from the knives Bakugou had given you slowly faded as all sensations lifted from your body. Your limbs grew heavier by the second, and your mind was becoming muddled as you had to consciously fight to get the thoughts you needed.

          The boy hovering above you, who you connected to be Bakugou, was pressing down on your stomach. He looked so beautiful. Was it weird to think he looked beautiful with mud and dirt smeared across his cheeks, his hair slick with days of grease and skin covered in blood that wasn’t his own? You wished he’d stop crying though.

          Why was the cute boy crying?

          Your mind continued to grow foggy and your vision started to weaken. Suddenly there were two Bakugou’s blurred and you felt like giggling, but couldn’t manage, coughing instead. Crimson liquid splattered on the boy’s forearms and he froze with widened and frantic eyes.

          This boy was really cute. What was his name again?

          Your arm felt so heavy and numb. You wanted to tell the boy to get off your arm so that you could move, but again you couldn’t find your voice. He was saying something, but you couldn’t hear so you tried smiling instead. He looked so sad. You wished he would smile.

          The boy… Bakugou. That was his name.

          Bakugou started shouting something at the sky, which you thought was silly because the sky can’t talk. His eyebrow was creased, and you somehow knew he was being really loud even without hearing his volume. You wanted to know what he was saying, but everything was just so dull—colors, sounds, feelings—nothing was right. You couldn’t remember a lot and that really frustrated you, but you felt something poking through the fog, like there was something really important you needed to do.

          You felt water on your cheeks and were confused. Was it raining? No… you were crying.

          You focused on the boy—Bakugou—who was talking to himself frantically as he dug through a backpack seated beside him and words started to flood into your mind. They seemed silly since you don’t remember much about this guy, but your chest ached in a different sort of pain and you decided to fight past it get them out.

          “Bakugou,” you croaked, and he quickly moved to you, starting to talk rapidly and poke at various parts of you. “I.. love…”

          That’s the most you could weakly get out before your coughing fit ensued. It seemed like enough because the boy—B something—seemed to freeze for a moment before a serious look took over his face. You managed a weak smile. His eyes looked so determined and cute.

          You saw him reach for a knife lying beside you in the grass and felt panic flood through you. You wanted to do something to stop him from whatever he seemed set on, but you couldn’t move. You couldn’t talk. You couldn’t do anything.

          You saw him give an ugly scream at the sky, unshed tears shining in his eyes, as he lifted the knife into the air.

          You felt a dull ache spread across your abdomen as consciousness filtered into your body. You blinked slowly, squinting at the bright lights that bounced against the pure white walls and curtains surrounding you. You fought for a semblance of an idea on where you could be, but nothing came to you. As you tried to sit up, pain shot through you and you winced, letting out a soft moan in agony. It was then that you realized how many IVs were attached to your wrist.

          Then the world faded to black.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

          Where were you?

          A distant shouting came from the hallway that gradually increased in volume. It was an unmistakable sound.

          Bakugou.

          “You said I could fucking see her.” He yelled. You heard a quiet voice attempting to calm him, but he cut them off. “I don’t give a shit. I did your fucking interview so where the hell is the room!?”

          Your door was thrown open seconds later and Bakugou stormed in wearing a capital tailored suit. It was enough for you to question the realism of where you’d woken up with your already foggy mind slow to process everything. He was at your side quickly, throwing his arms around you and pulling you close. You winced at the embrace and he immediately let go.

          “Are you okay? What hurts? When did you wake up? Do you know what they’re giving you? Where the fuck is the chart… fuck I’m so happy you’re here. I thought they were lying to me and—”

          “Am I dead?”

          He halted his search around the room for your medical chart and just stared at you. A weak smile formed on his face. “No.”

          “I vividly remember dying…” You observed your surroundings again, finally piecing them together to form a hospital room. “Did… did we win?”

          He came back to your bedside, carefully cradling your face in his hands and bringing your forehead against his. “We lived. I figured it out.”

          “Bakugou… what… what happened?”

          He sighed. “I just… said some things and threatened some people.”

          You pushed him back by the shoulders and held him at a distance. “You threatened some people? What the hell do you mean you—”

          “Look, I did what I had to.” He took your hands into his and squeezed them lightly. “I don’t regret it.”

          You regarded him carefully, scanning his face for answers but still too dizzy to do complex thinking. You nodded your head, but your stomach was in knots as various consequences came to your mind. It was child’s play for them to make people’s lives miserable, you had both found that out the hard way these past weeks, they could really hurt him if he had done something stupid.

          “How did you—"

          Someone in a long coat entered the room to check you over and even though they ‘encouraged’ Bakugou to leave the room he very aggressively denied their suggestion. Even though all of you was still in pain the doctor had okayed you for an incredibly unprofessional discharge which had left Bakugou eagerly carrying you out of the room. You realized, as they failed to prescribe you painkillers, that this was the beginning of the neglect the capital had in store.

          You were forced into an uncomfortable outfit and Bakugou ensured you it was temporary for the short trip to the bullet train. It was tight in all the wrong areas, something you had a hunch was intentional, and from the fierce rage in Bakugou’s eyes, he felt the same. You were ushered to the train and Bakugou ignored anyone asking questions, having already faced an interview that morning he told you to do the same. You had a hard time following what was happening and could only focus on how you really needed a nap.

          Once you were safely on the train that would take you home you were able to change into comfortable clothing and plop onto a couch where Bakugou was anxiously waiting. He still had large bags under his eyes, and you wondered if he had been able to sleep at all since the games had ended. You should probably both take a nap. Instead, you asked him to play the interview he kept mentioning so you could see the end of this year’s hunger games and finally understand what the hell was going on. Finally, you could jog some of your memories and learn why you’re not dead.

          He was hesitant but found the interview repeatedly playing the main television because of course, the capital would be so kind to them. He explained that the game makers wanted just him for the interview to really sell the district 2 bad boy love story the capital idiots had become so obsessed over. You were taken aback by the statement but didn’t know where to begin asking for an explanation. You hoped the recording could speak for itself.

          It was a surreal experience watching yourself nearly die. The memories of your body going numb and you losing grasp of reality had you subconsciously curling into Bakugou’s side. You saw yourself give a love confession and you turned red because you hadn’t remembered that happening. You felt your eyes burn with unshed tears as you watched Bakugou whisper your name and gently shake you, begging you to respond, calling you an asshole for confessing and then leaving him like that. You wanted to punch him when he started cursing at the game makers before picking up a knife off the ground and aiming it toward himself. Then the screen went black and it was just Bakugou and Caesar.

          He fabricated a story about how they had barely known each other as kids, but he hadn’t really thought about her since then. He obviously had never imagined a fluke happening where she’d become a tribute and it wasn’t until the arena that his feelings started to develop. The confession from you just kind of finalized it for him and he couldn’t imagine a world without you in it anymore—it wouldn’t be worth living. The entire audience was clapping and cooing. You were watching with a mouth half-open because Bakugou was one hell of an actor when he needed to be.

          “It’s not like it was a complete lie,” he said, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head. You still had a hard time believing this was real. That you were allowed this moment of peace after everything you’d been through.

          “Which part?” You mumbled.

          “Loving you,” he shrugged. “It wouldn’t have been worth coming back after figuring that out.”

          You rolled your eyes, looking up at him as he gave you a dopey smile. “You’re an idiot.”

          “Maybe,” he said as he leaned down to kiss you. You placed a hand on the side of his face, holding him there. Your heart raced uncontrollably, and you knew this was it. That whatever was going to come next would be worth it. You had faced hell together and no matter what the capital tried to do you’d be able to face it if you had each other.